Ch. 15 - Sword Sovereign

Lin Ruhu looked at the cultivation technique Xu Zimo had written down. After reading it once, his eyes lit up. He felt that the cultivation method suited him perfectly. In the past, he hadn’t been very interested in cultivation, his current technique had even been chosen by his grandfather. But now, after seeing the technique Xu Zimo gave him, he felt a spark of excitement he’d never experienced before. The technique, Strength Scripture, required the user to absorb the blood of countless heavenly beasts into their body, specifically those known for their immense physical strength. Around midday, a bald man in black clothing arrived at Xu Zimo’s courtyard. “I am Dark Thirteen. By the order of the Vice-Lord, I’m here to accompany you to Skysword City,” the bald man announced. He wore all black, had a burly frame, and a prominent scar across his face. Combined with his bald head, he gave off a very intimidating presence. “Dark Thirteen... He must be one of my father’s Dark Legion,” Xu Zimo thought to himself. He turned to Lin Ruhu and said, “Ruhu, go to the Missions Chamber and post a mission. As for the details, just write that it's to accompany me on a trip to Skysword City. The reward is ten spirit crystals per person, and I only need three people. Their cultivation must be at the Meridian Forging Realm or higher. We depart in three hours.” “Got it,” Lin Ruhu nodded and left for the Missions Chamber. Xu Zimo looked at Dark Thirteen and asked with interest, “What’s your cultivation level?” “I’m at the Desolate Meridian Realm,” Dark Thirteen said, scratching his bald head with a goofy smile. Xu Zimo rubbed his chin and mused, “If nothing unexpected happens, the strongest in the Chang Clan should only be at the True Meridian Realm, having opened three Meridian gates at most.” That afternoon, Lin Ruhu returned from the Missions Chamber with three others. Two men and one woman. Among them, the man and woman were at the Meridian Forging Realm, while the other man in green robes had reached the True Meridian Realm. “Junior Brother Zimo,” they greeted upon meeting, then introduced themselves. The man and woman were named Tang Huaiyuan and Xiao Yu, respectively. The young man at the True Meridian Realm introduced himself as Feng Buyu. “Thanks for coming,” Xu Zimo said with a smile. The three quickly waved their hands, saying, “We don’t deserve the thanks.” The group then went to the sect’s Beast Pavilion, where they hired a few first-rank spirit beasts, Soaring Sand Horses, for travel toward Skysword City. Among the group, only Dark Thirteen had reached the Desolate Meridian Realm and could fly on his own. The others had to ride spirit beasts. As they left the sect, Xu Zimo suddenly felt something and looked up at the sky. He saw Elder Six, Xiao Yuexuan, flying overhead with a young girl. The girl seemed to sense something too and glanced down, locking eyes with Xu Zimo for a moment. “Oh? The plot is finally starting,” Xu Zimo smiled. “Bai Lixiao, welcome to the True Martial Sacred Ground.” After a long journey, by dusk, the group arrived at a small village and decided to spend the night there. “Ten-Mile Desolate Village,” Xu Zimo read the name on the stone marker at the village entrance and chuckled. “Interesting. Very interesting.” They were greeted by the village chief, a middle-aged man in a black fur vest. “I’m the chief of Ten-Mile Desolate Village. You can just call me Wang Tao,” the man said heartily. He then led the group to his house. Along the way, villagers peeked out from their homes, curiously eyeing the outsiders. They politely declined the dinner Wang Tao had prepared and returned to their rooms. “There’s something strange about this village,” Feng Buyu said, frowning. “What’s strange about it?” Lin Ruhu asked curiously. “I feel it too,” said Xiao Yu, the only woman in the group. “Something’s off, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” “Why overthink it? Just get some sleep,” Xu Zimo chuckled and headed outside. “Brother Zimo, where are you going?” Lin Ruhu asked. “Just taking a walk,” Xu Zimo replied, then turned to Dark Thirteen. “Thirteen, don’t follow me. I can handle myself.” Leaving the house, Xu Zimo walked toward the west end of the village. He walked along a cobblestone path. A light breeze blew by, and a few dim lights flickered from the houses on either side. He arrived at a small shop in the western corner. A yellow banner fluttered on a wooden beam above the door. On it were the words: -Ten-Mile Blacksmith Shop- It was already late, and the shop’s light glowed a dim amber. Inside, a man in black clothes was still hard at work. He wasn’t particularly muscular, if anything, he was a bit skinny. In one hand, he held an unfinished sword. In the other, a heavy hammer. Every time the hammer fell, a loud “clang” rang out. The man pounded away tirelessly. If one watched long enough, they’d notice that his strikes followed a consistent rhythm. Xu Zimo sat on a stone stool outside the shop, watching the man with great interest. The man worked swiftly. Once the sword’s form was finished, he placed it into the forge. After a while, he pulled the red-hot sword out, bare-handed, and blew on it gently before plunging it into a nearby water tank. Hisssss, a cloud of white steam burst out. The water around the blade actually began to boil. “Want to learn?” the man suddenly asked, turning to Xu Zimo. “You couldn’t teach me,” Xu Zimo replied with a grin. The man didn’t argue. He took the sword from the water and walked back inside. “Even if you're the Sword Sovereign, it wouldn't be enough,” Xu Zimo said calmly. The man’s steps halted. He slowly turned back around. In his eyes, it was as if countless swords exploded into view, sword energy slicing through the air as his aura grew stronger and stronger. He stared intently at Xu Zimo. “I’m curious,” Xu Zimo said without flinching, “Why would the Sword Sovereign, Tenmile Vastsky, choose to live as a humble blacksmith in a tiny village?” “It’s none of your business,” Tenmile Vastsky replied with a calm, magnetic voice. “I think I can help you,” Xu Zimo said. He knew Tenmile Vastsky was currently lost. The man had already opened five Meridian gates, reaching the realm of a Sword Sovereign. The next step was to forge his own unique martial dao. But he was stuck, uncertain. After dedicating his life to the sword, he now hesitated. He wasn’t sure which path to take, or which one was right for him.