Chapter 83: The Resting Place of the Flying Swords

Facing the colossal sword, Dongfang Shun seemed to have fallen into a state of profound realization. He stood motionless at the front, not taking another step forward. Ji Yao frowned, hurriedly retreated three steps, only to find there was little space left behind her. Reaching back, her hand encountered an invisible barrier.

Seeing sword aura rising from Dongfang Shun’s body, Ji Yao immediately sensed danger and tried to fall back, but, to her dismay, the passage had cut off their escape the moment they entered. The current situation made it clear: the other's comprehension was too keen, and as the one following closely behind, she was now trapped, caught in a dilemma with no way forward or back.

To forcefully sever another’s chance at enlightenment would shorten her own lifespan. For someone whose life span was already numbered and registered with the Lord of the Underworld, she dared not disturb Dongfang Shun’s breakthrough, especially as his aura grew ever more formidable.

Left with no choice, Ji Yao produced the highest-grade defensive array disc she had crafted, quickly activated it, and a protective barrier rose to shield her, sparing her the agony of being shredded by sword energy.

Hiding within the protective shield, Ji Yao could no longer sense Dongfang Shun’s aura ahead; all she could see were streams of sword energy swirling ever faster over his body.

Suddenly, the sword energy converged inward, then burst out again, forming a protective aura around Dongfang Shun, encircling him in a wild dance of blades. Ji Yao could see these sword energies repeatedly slicing at her shield, the spiritual energy from the array disc draining rapidly from her hand.

What irony—to gain nothing and perhaps even lose an array disc in the process. She could only hope this wasn’t a losing bargain.

In truth, it wasn’t only Dongfang Shun who was touched by the sword’s presence; Ji Yao felt something as well. From her first glance, she had sensed a stirring deep within her spiritual sea, something eager to break forth.

Yet she had never been drawn to that lofty, domineering sword intent that looked down on all things. Her own sword cultivation favored following her heart, moving as she pleased, not a relentless pursuit of aggression. So with a single thought, she suppressed that feeling.

Fortunately, the torment under the sword aura did not last long. Ji Yao silently counted the strikes against her shield—after a dozen or so, the energy was consciously withdrawn.

As soon as the sword energy dispersed, Ji Yao hurried to lower her shield, somewhat pained as she sent the disc into her storage to recover.

Dongfang Shun, having dispersed the sword aura swirling around him, turned to see Ji Yao pressed into a corner, standing with her sword in her arms and looking rather unwell.

He opened his mouth to share his joy, but seeing her state, the words stuck in his throat and he instead offered an apology.

“Sorry! I was too focused just now…”

Ji Yao raised her hand to stop him. She had no use for empty apologies; only something real could make up for the “torment” she had just endured.

“If you’re done, let’s move on!”

She was a little curious—apart from the massive stone sword, there was nothing else in sight. Where, then, was the entrance to this so-called Sword Tomb?

Dongfang Shun seemed to notice Ji Yao’s mood. Driven by his own anticipation, he wasted no time, stepping up to the towering sword and releasing a stream of sword energy onto its spine.

The sword’s ridge split open, the crack widening until it was large enough for a person to enter, then stopped expanding.

Dongfang Shun turned to signal that time was short—they had to go in quickly.

Ji Yao slipped forward, motioning for Dongfang Shun to enter first; she didn’t want his suspicious nature to cause any more trouble.

From the outside, the crevice appeared pitch-black, impenetrably dark, revealing nothing within.

Upon entering, she felt what it meant to be surrounded by sword energy. A towering mountain rose abruptly from the center of the space, its peak piercing the sky.

Set into the cliff face before them were more than a hundred flying swords. It seemed no one had visited in ages; every sword was more or less covered in moss, some even wrapped in earth where tiny white flowers had bloomed, leaving none of their original sharpness visible.

Following Dongfang Shun in, Ji Yao stroked her chin, scrutinizing each sword embedded in the cliff. These rustic flying swords, just by their shabby appearance, gave no clue as to their true quality.

She wondered if there was some technique in the cultivation world to see through appearances and discern the real from the false—how convenient it would be to spot hidden treasures at a glance!

Of course, if Sitong Jing—the grandmaster whose “Compendium of Techniques” spanned both the mortal and celestial realms—heard such a thought, she would look at you as if you were a fool.

There were indeed eye techniques to pierce illusions, but none that could simply identify treasure by cultivation alone. If such a thing existed, the world would have long since been stripped of all its hidden gems.

Ji Yao prodded Dongfang Shun’s lower back with her sheathed Xuechen Sword.

“Hurry up and find the sword of inheritance you’re looking for.”

Dongfang Shun was a bit at a loss. How was he supposed to choose? He couldn’t possibly pull out every sword and inspect it one by one, only to put them back!

Truth be told, Ji Yao rather liked that idea. Since Dongfang Shun was to choose first, it was only fair he did the work of identifying the swords. She could simply watch and learn from the side.

Though their relationship was no longer as close as before, Ji Yao had no wish to trip him up. With so many swords, examining each would be exhausting, especially for someone at the Qi Refining stage. The time needed just to tell good from bad would be considerable, and she had no intention of wasting her precious time.

Reflecting on the style outside the Sword Tomb and the sword intent Dongfang Shun had just comprehended, Ji Yao reasoned that the so-called sword of inheritance must reflect the temperament of its original owner.

“You just grasped the unique sword intent here, didn’t you?” Ji Yao tapped her forehead, questioning Dongfang Shun.

“Yes.” Dongfang Shun, aware that Ji Yao was also a sword cultivator, nodded without hesitation.

“Well, there you have it. You’ve come here seeking inheritance—surely you’ve analyzed the style of sword intent left by the one who created it?”

At this, Dongfang Shun, no fool, immediately understood. With a few strides, he stood before the mountain, releasing the sword intent he had just comprehended. If the swords had spirits, they would naturally resonate with his intent.

Indeed, as they had guessed, the sword highest among them began to tremble as Dongfang Shun released his aura. Immediately, all the other swords on the mountain began to stir as well.

Yet it was as if the others were being suppressed; they shuddered, but none as fiercely as the first. Only minor tremors ran through them.

The topmost sword shook more and more violently, shedding its layer of moss as it did so, slowly revealing its original form.

When it was fully exposed, its blade shone with a piercing brilliance, cold and dazzling.

With a metallic clang, the newly revealed sword transformed into a streak of golden light, shooting straight toward Dongfang Shun.

Heart pounding with excitement, Dongfang Shun caught the sword hovering before him without hesitation, pricked his finger, and dripped blood to claim it as his own.

But at that moment, a sudden change occurred!

The swords embedded in the cliff began to tremble violently, emitting a collective, resonant hum. Ji Yao’s heart sank; instinct told her something was very wrong.

Because, amid the chorus of swords, she could hear a faint, sorrowful emotion.

All the remaining swords broke free from the cliff, circling the mountain as if reluctant to leave.

Then, as if reaching a unanimous decision, they lost their spirit and fell to the ground, one by one.

Ji Yao watched in shock as every fallen sword, without exception, snapped in two, broken blades carpeting the ground in a scene of utter devastation.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Heavens! Over a hundred swords forced to leap to their deaths in the Sword Tomb!