All Heavenly destiny reduced to ashes -
Chapter 45 - 45 45 Divine Sword Spirit
45: Chapter 45: Divine Sword Spirit 45: Chapter 45: Divine Sword Spirit “Embracing the Void Cataclysm.”
These stories, An Jing himself had also vaguely seen only partial glimpses of them in ancient texts; it was history from at least tens of thousands of years ago, when records were very obscure.
The ancient fairy folk finally drove out the Heavenly Demon and went on to establish many countries once more, with the progenitors of Da Chen being among them, ultimately becoming the largest state in the North Mysterious Sacrifice Continent during the long warring period.
The content of the murals was drawing to a close, and the closer to the inner part, the more complete and enriched the content of the murals, some of which were clearly added and modified in subsequent eras.
Yet An Jing’s expression grew increasingly solemn.
For he saw the resurgence of the Heavenly Demon.
In the long flow of years, even when the statues of the Sword Immortals from past ages had collapsed, Demonic Qi spewed from Hanging Fate Valley, faintly forming the visage of the Heavenly Demon.
It guided the waters of hundreds of rivers to scour the originally valley-less Hanging Fate Valley, eroding the seals, intending to break free, while the ancestors instead took advantage of this, constructing a Earth Vein Formation based on the mountains and rivers, re-sealing the Heavenly Demon again.
That was the origin of the Hanging Fate Valley as it is now.
“The Heavenly Demon actually woke once before?”
An Jing murmured in a low voice, “Subdue Evil, you didn’t awaken then?”
“I don’t know…” Sword Spirit also spoke gravely, “My memory… lacks too much.”
“When did I break?
It seems to have been some time after the Heavenly Demon was vanquished.
I even remember my fragments being worshipped here, with someone intending to use the Power of Worship from the Ten Thousand and the stimulation of the Heavenly Demon to awaken me for rebirth, which is the prototype of the Great Formation that triggered your awakening of Fate Pattern…”
“Yes, the original Hanging Fate Valley indeed had no rivers, and there were many Ritual Sacrifice caves on the walls of the valley…
but I really don’t know much about the details of the Heavenly Demon’s resurgence and the second sealing.”
An Jing slightly nodded as well, as he had also sensed something amiss: the hilt of the Sword Spirit was unearthed in the Northern Border, which was his own hometown, and by a twist of fate, it came to the northwest’s Hanging Fate Valley where it was kept in the Demon Sect’s treasury.
The power concealed in the hilt went unnoticed, the Sword Spirit’s consciousness resided on the hilt, but the fragments had no awareness.
The Demonic Qi invaded Hanging Fate Valley and not even the Demon Sect dared to enter, but the Qi was suppressed once the Sword Spirit arrived, showing Its restraint over Demonic Qi.
But the ‘fragment’ within the valley never reacted violently to the Demonic Qi and required a Ritual Sacrifice to suppress it.
Although the Sword Qi called forth by the Ritual Formation did prove its existence, its condition was probably not optimistic.
On this note, Sword Spirit’s fragments scattered across various places in the past, some even lying in another world…
An Jing instinctively felt that the matters behind all this were complex.
Indeed, a Divine Sword shattered from a Sword Immortal, the background behind it must certainly be immensely complex.
This was the cause and effect he ought to shoulder by borrowing the Sword Spirit’s power, so after exhaling deeply, he continued onward.
Soon, the end of the long corridor came into view.
A gigantic, unambiguously artificial, semi-circular hall appeared at the depths of the canyon.
Before entering the hall was a ‘√’ shaped staircase, hence the interior of the hall was quite clean and tidy, showing no signs of being flooded, with the decaying remains of a meditation cushion faintly visible in the center.
An Jing stepped out of the corridor and into the man-made semi-circular hall.
And then, he saw it, the ‘Divine Object’ placed at the deepest part of the hall on a towering jade altar.
[Fragment of the Broken Blade]
A piece flashing with silver and cyan brilliance, an unusually thick diamond-shaped broken blade.
An Jing paused slightly, a remarkably familiar feeling bursting forth in him as if he had seen this fragment millions of times—but he quickly realized that this sensation was transmitted to him by the Sword Spirit.
The Rusty Sword in his Divine Sea trembled faintly, “This is my sword’s origin…
but strangely, where is the protective formation?”
Scanning his surroundings, An Jing noticed that the walls and domes of the entire semi-circular hall were covered with dense patterns of mountains, seas, and clouds, along with the Dragon Seal and Phoenix Scroll.
These motifs faintly formed a massive array on the pale cyan jade stone.
However, it was not operational.
Or rather, it was damaged.
On the pale cyan jade, there were spreading traces of gray and black.
The jade stones covered by these marks were rough, shriveled, devoid of any moisture or spirituality.
They resembled the state of a person after death, the jade stones losing all vitality and moisture, gradually ‘decaying’ over thousands of years into their current state.
“Heavenly Demon erosion,” An Jing muttered, “Only the most central area remains intact.”
“Fortunately, we’re in time,” the Sword Spirit said anxiously, but managed to calm down, “Go take it, An Jing, Sword Bearer, take the fragment of mine, you are qualified.”
“Mm.”
With a slight nod, An Jing moved forward, approaching the altar,
On the steps, layers of pearly white halos lit up, and as the Sword Spirit had said, nothing hindered An Jing, allowing him smooth access to the top of the altar.
At this moment, even with his composure, An Jing’s heartbeat accelerated.
He took a deep breath to suppress his impulsiveness and slowly reached out to touch the shard of the sword blade.
And in that instant, a silver light shone forth.
The original teal color covering the jade broken blade and altar suddenly radiated halos, illuminating the entire hemispherical cavernous hall, while the pale cyan jade inside the hall also shone together, multiple halos interweaving to form a celestial realm akin to clouds and mist.
Standing at the center of this celestial realm, An Jing’s expression changed slightly, for with his touch, the light on the sword blade and the altar was rapidly converging.
The previously sharp and solid silver and the moist spiritual teal were both rapidly fading, turning into the lifeless gray and black of the jade stones corroded by the Heavenly Demon on the walls, like the rotting corpses of the dead.
All vitality and spirituality were condensing into An Jing’s hands, becoming a blur of luminescent fragments!
Then, the fragmented piece of the blade, carrying a curve of Breath of Pure, flew towards An Jing’s forehead—and with the help of the Sword Spirit, entered his brow!
Without retreating, An Jing stood straight, and raising his hand, he touched his forehead, finding no wound, and the wetness was merely cold sweat.
Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
“You gave me a fright, Subdue Evil, next time don’t make it so thrilling, or at least give me a heads up.”
To be honest, An Jing hated how well he had trained himself; if he hadn’t been so fit, he might have collapsed just now, then he could have taken the opportunity to lie down and breathe heavily.
But An Jing’s stance was as steady as if forged from iron, so despite sweating profusely and dampening his entire outfit, he remained erect, exhausting strength and spirit to calm his thoughts bit by bit.
Within the Divine Sea, on the hilt and grid of the broken blade, an additional section of sword body appeared, ethereal and luminous, exuding faint silvery breath.
Indistinctly, it elevated An Jing’s understanding of the Tranquil Sword Manual by a large margin.
He wasn’t worried that the Sword Spirit had just tried to possess him, for the Sword Spirit itself was very astonished, “How could this be…
My sword body, how can it decay, leaving only the soul?”
“I have already ascertained Immortal and Indestructible, even the fragments are Eternally Unabraded, how could it decay to such an extent?”
An Jing didn’t know what realm the Sword Spirit existed in back then, but the other party never acted haughty; all exchanges and suggestions were always cordial and polite.
This was the first time he had seen the Sword Spirit so discomposed.
Despite this, An Jing really wanted to retort: What about Immortal and Indestructible, wasn’t your previous body just a broken Rusty Sword?
Why are you so surprised that the blade has decayed?
But that wasn’t the limit—in the next instant, An Jing sensed a violent tremor within the broken blade in the Divine Sea, along with a voice so startled it was almost bewildered, “How, how can this be?!”
“In my sword body, how come there are no memories of mine?!”
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