Genius Noble With System
Chapter 297: Celestial Sword Monolith (Part-1)

Chapter 297: Celestial Sword Monolith (Part-1)

"Fuck! How is this possible?"

"It had to dream. Did it really happen?"

"How can somebody break the ninth barrier? Isn’t it just a made-up myth?"

The crowd burst into exclamations and couldn’t believe it was impossible. Apollo cleared all three tests and broke the eternal myth. How could they believe what had just happened?

All of this feels like a fantasy to all of them like they were cast in an illusion.

Serena, standing in the crowd, was also shocked, as it seemed the more she knew about him, the more terrifyingly unbelievable it became.

’Lord is really out of this world.’

He didn’t care about the thoughts of others in the crowd, but instead, he smiled as he knew what breaking the ninth barrier meant. He always believed his eternal sword aura had unimaginable potential and power, but this test just proved that his thoughts were true.

"I passed, didn’t I?" He asked the elder, who was the tester, calmly.

"Ah!!"

The elder, who was horrified, quickly returned to his senses and couldn’t help but think, ’If you aren’t considered passed, then no one passed since the beginning of this place.’

The elder’s voice cracked mid-sentence, his hands trembling as he stared at Apollo like he was looking at some ancient monster reborn.

"I’ll take that as a yes," Apollo said softly.

The elder nodded so fast it almost looked painful. "Yes! Yes! Passed! Passed with glory unseen in all of history!"

And then a sword token appeared on his hand.

At this moment, the monoliths quietly dimmed, as if even they needed time to process what had just happened.

Apollo took a step back, hands resting lazily at his sides. His calm posture made the whole thing feel almost effortless, which only added to the sheer terror everyone felt toward him.

The crowd parted instinctively as he walked down the platform—no one dared to block his way. Some of the older swordsmen, even at True God Realm, bowed slightly as he passed, an unconscious show of respect born from pure instinct.

He didn’t say it aloud, but deep within, he knew—his path of the sword had only truly begun.

The shock was terrifying, and he knew he had to leave this place quickly, as the group of people would be too much. For this, he already had a plan.

He had brought a divine mask for changing his face and aura. His result was too shocking and could not be hidden.

Before anyone could react, space twisted around him like a liquid mirror. In an instant, Apollo grabbed Serena’s hand, and the two disappeared into thin air—leaving behind only a faint ripple of spatial energy.

The crowd was stunned silent for a moment.

Then—

"Where did he go?!"

"Find him!"

"He can’t just vanish like that!"

"He actually ran right after passing! That kid’s no joke!"

The panic and madness erupted like a volcano, but by the time anyone tried to lock in his presence, it was already too late. Even some Eternal God Realm masters who specialized in tracking and divination found nothing.

Apollo didn’t care; he and Serena returned to the spaceship silently. The ship’s engines roared to life, and the vessel silently shot toward the nearest space portal, cutting across an endless void at unimaginable speed.

Their destination was the Celestial Sword Monolith in the forgotten star region. Now that he had received the sword token.

Legends spoke of this monolith as something far beyond mortal comprehension—a sword left behind by a Primordial Sword Deity, its aura so ancient and vast that even Eternal Gods dared not linger near it for too long.

The Celestial Sword Monolith, according to legend, is not just a monument—it is a sword itself, larger than mountains. A sword so vast, so ancient, that it had pierced directly into the heart of a dead star. Its blade stood taller than the tallest mountains, its hilt lost somewhere among swirling storm clouds, and its tip buried deep into the molten core of the land itself.

The monolith constantly radiates sword rules, turning the entire land into a sacred ground for swordsmen.

The closer one gets to the monolith, the stronger the pressure of the sword rules becomes. However, approaching is no simple task. If a swordsman cannot withstand the power of the sword rules, they risk severe injury—or, in some cases, death.

The space crossing the portal appeared on the other side. From the moment Apollo’s spaceship entered the outer region of the Forgotten Star Region, he felt it—the hum of sword rules.

They were everywhere. The space itself had been carved by sword rule as if every atom carried the scar of a blade that once slashed through the heavens. Even the void they travelled through wasn’t truly void—it was filled with faint, invisible sword marks.

The ship’s systems flickered momentarily, unable to fully stabilize under the constant sword rule radiation.

Apollo stepped forward, standing at the front observation window, his gaze locked on a distant point—a thin silver line piercing through endless space.

That was no light.

That was the edge of the Celestial Sword Monolith.

The closer they flew, the heavier the pressure became. It wasn’t merely physical—it was spiritual, directly oppressing the soul of every swordsman who dared to approach.

Each breath he took felt like inhaling blades into his lungs. His Eternal Sword Aura surged on its own, instinctively clashing against the external sword rules, trying to carve out a path for him. Even at 89%, his Eternal Sword Aura resisted the pressure like a king standing tall amidst a hailstorm of swords.

"This place..." Serena’s voice trembled slightly. "Even the space itself feels like it’s been cut to ribbons."

Apollo smiled faintly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Because it has."

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the sheer weight of the sword pressing down on him—a pressure unlike anything he had faced before.

This wasn’t just the aura of a single sword. It was the accumulated will of countless swordsmen who had come before him, each leaving behind a trace of their sword rule, their victories, their regrets, their obsessions, and their madness—every shred of their sword path imprinted into the very air, forming an invisible sea of blades.

Their spaceship quickly arrived at the Sword Star, where the Celestial Sword monolith was.

The sword star was directly ahead—a desolate, scar-riddled world where mountains were split into jagged edges, rivers ran like silver swords, and the sky itself shimmered with sword intent so thick it could almost cut skin just by breathing.

The Celestial Sword Monolith stood at the centre, its presence like a divine pillar of swords, connecting heaven and earth. Even from orbit, Apollo could see its terrifying size—a sword piercing a star, its surface engraved with ancient sword marks that seemed to hum softly, resonating with sword law.

As the ship descended, the outer hull creaked slightly under the relentless pressure of sword rules, and the ship’s protective formations flickered.

Apollo didn’t care.

He stood at the airlock, his hand resting lazily on his sword hilt, his heart calm like still water.

The ship touched down on a vast docking place. He wore a mask that hid his aura, as he knew his performance should have attracted countless people. So, it was better to be a bit low-key as he was here to improve; he didn’t have time or any interest to waste.

The docking zone stretched endlessly before him, divided into multiple sectors, each hosting ships from different forces. Some bore the emblems of powerful sword sects, while others carried the flags of ancient clans.

There were even independent swordsmen, their ships humble but their auras terrifying—these were the true wanderers, swordsmen who walked alone, relying only on their swords.

The area itself was vast, more like a colossal martial city than just a docking platform. Stone paths led to various districts—training fields, trading zones, meditation grounds, and of course, the path leading to the Celestial Sword Monolith itself. Even though this wasn’t as bustling as Empyrean Void City, the quality of people here was far superior.

Every single swordsman here had at least a high understanding of Sword Aura. Many had already reached perfection and understood sword rule.

Everyone here was strong and talented—the elite among the elites.

Apollo’s eyes swept across the scene without stopping.

"All talented. All dangerous. But none matter to me."

He had no interest in duels, no desire to make a name for himself here. His goal was simple—reach the Celestial Sword Monolith, dive deep into its secrets, and forge his Eternal Sword Aura to its true peak.

As he walked, however, more than a few sharp gazes landed on him. Even with his aura hidden, something about the way he moved, the natural rhythm of his steps, triggered the instincts of seasoned swordsmen.

"Who’s that?"

"Strange. Can’t sense his cultivation, but the aura around him is a bit mysterious."

"Just ignore him. Everyone here is a monster in their own right."

Apollo paid them no mind, his pace steady and unhurried, cutting straight toward the distant Sword Path—the road that led directly to the Celestial Sword Monolith itself.

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