Chapter 2558: Sword Courage, Sword Spirit
Zhang Ruochen grabbed the Abyssal Ancient Sword, his hair disheveled, and staggered to his feet. He gazed proudly at the tombstones and the densely packed floating swords all around, saying, "Come on, strike me down. My heart knows no fear."
"Swish, swish."
The swords transformed into a rain of light, all flying and stabbing toward Zhang Ruochen.
From a distance, it looked like a massive vortex of sword rain had formed.
At the center of the vortex stood Zhang Ruochen.
"Fight!"
Zhang Ruochen swung the Abyssal Ancient Sword repeatedly, knocking away the swords that flew at him.
But there were too many swords; he simply couldn't block them all.
In an instant, his chest and abdomen exploded. His skin, flesh, bones, and internal organs all turned into a mist of blood. No matter how strong his regenerative abilities were, they couldn't reverse this.
No matter how powerful his physical defense, it couldn't withstand it.
His legs exploded, his arms exploded, his head exploded...
Zhang Ruochen's physical body was completely destroyed, reduced to a cloud of blood mist. This was an even more thorough death than the last time in the Kunlun Realm, when he had been attacked by a million sacred artifacts from the Hell Realm army.
Last time, at least a skeleton remained.
This time, not even bones were left.
After killing Zhang Ruochen, the swords all flew back into their tombs.
A Le knelt on one knee, using his iron sword to support himself so he wouldn't collapse. His usually resolute and cold eyes now shed tears as red as blood. The pain in his heart at this moment far surpassed the agony when his sacred soul had been severed.
In the distance, Kai Luo Di Shi, who had witnessed this scene, burst into excited laughter.
How could there be such an unbelievable thing in the world?
Zhang Ruochen, whom countless cultivators from the Heavenly Court and Hell Realm had schemed and failed to kill, had actually died in this forest of tombs, killed by his own oath.
Good, very good.
Having witnessed Zhang Ruochen's death with his own eyes, he had completed his mission.
Suddenly, A Le keenly sensed a faint spark of life within the cloud of blood mist that remained condensed and hadn't dispersed.
"Hua—"
The blood mist trembled, transforming into a massive, rapidly spinning blood cocoon.
The life force grew stronger and stronger.
The blood cocoon quickly contracted, condensing into a figure of extraordinary heroic bearing. His flesh and blood body was completely intact, his eyes containing stars and universes, his brows as sharp as divine sword edges, his arms smooth as jade yet showing defined muscle lines.
"Zheng!"
A sword cry rang out.
The Abyssal Ancient Sword flew into his hand.
Zhang Ruochen's eyes held a trace of confusion. He looked at the sword in his hand, then examined himself internally, and finally understood many things.
The myriad swords didn't seem to intend to kill him. Although the sword energy had been rampant, it had only destroyed his physical body, not harmed his Qi Sea, sacred soul, or spiritual power.
Otherwise, even if he had refined the White Pale Blood Earth, he couldn't have recovered.
Not only that, but after the myriad swords had cut through him, it was as if they were helping him cultivate, removing some harmful substances from his body and leaving him with sword dao mysteries he had never encountered before.
For example, the Blazing God Leg that the Moon God had once helped him fuse—most of the substances belonging to the Blazing God had been cut away by the myriad swords, leaving only a hundred million fire divine patterns and some divine nature material.
Previously, Zhang Ruochen's demigod physical body had already been very powerful, but it was like a fat person with only weight—he couldn't use his physical body alone to fight a demigod, let alone contend with the Supreme Dharma Body of a Supreme Realm Great Saint.
But the power of the myriad swords had helped him cut away the harmful things from his demigod body, making it stronger and more refined.
Additionally, impurities in his sacred soul and spiritual power had also been removed.
At this moment, Zhang Ruochen felt as if he had stepped out of a swamp, indescribably relaxed and refreshed, as if he could soar into the sky.
"Thank you, seniors, for your assistance."
Zhang Ruochen bowed in thanks to all directions.
Although he didn't know why the myriad swords buried in the tombs had helped him, for someone trying to condense the Heavenly Sword Soul and cultivate a third-rank sword dao sacred intent, this was indeed a tremendous help.
It was like the sword dao sages of ancient times had jointly performed a marrow-washing and foundation-building for him.
Standing at the edge of the sword dao tomb forest, Kai Luo Di Shi's smile vanished. He was dumbfounded, his mental state nearly collapsing. How could this be?
He had been shattered into a blood mist, yet he could come back to life again.
Between Zhang Ruochen and A Le, there were no words exchanged, only a knowing smile.
Then, A Le picked up his iron sword and began the journey back.
Zhang Ruochen raised his sword and continued advancing toward the sword mountain.
"Swords, out."
Zhang Ruochen raised his hand and guided forth the over two hundred million sword dao rules within his body.
The sword dao rules had undergone a tremendous change. Before, they had been like golden needles. Now, the golden needles had taken shape, transforming into small swords.
Each sword dao rule was a sword.
This was the strongest state of sword dao rules!
With such sword dao rules, Zhang Ruochen was already on par with sword cultivators who had cultivated the Heavenly Sword Soul, able to directly sever an opponent's sacred dao rules.
Destroying their cultivation, severing their dao.
If he hadn't experienced the myriad swords splitting his body, it would have been very difficult for Zhang Ruochen, with his current sword dao cultivation, to walk this path.
But now, Zhang Ruochen's sword dao had greatly advanced. Charging and killing all the way, it took him only half a day to cross the sword dao tomb forest and arrive at the foot of the sword mountain.
Looking back, rows of tombstones stood like an endless army of thousands, or like ancient white-robed sword saints carrying sacred swords, standing before his eyes.
That sword mountain was their commander.
Every tombstone, every sword, must have a story, right?
Some might be heroic and stirring, some compassionate, some wandering the world with a sword, some entangled in grudges and rivers and lakes...
Perhaps the undying heroic spirits of those swords' masters were telling their pasts one by one. Or perhaps, the myriad swords had given him their sword dao spirit.
Involuntarily, Zhang Ruochen's heart was filled with extreme sorrow, as if he could empathize. Tears streamed from his eyes, and his heart felt as if it were breaking.
This inexplicable emotion lasted a long time before Zhang Ruochen emerged from it. He said, "Seniors, do not grieve. The sword dao has never declined or perished. The heart of the sword dao will forever exist between heaven and earth."
Zhang Ruochen bowed to them once more, then turned to look at the towering and majestic sword mountain.
On the pitch-black cliff face, several lines of ancient text were carved.
It was a script Zhang Ruochen had never seen before.
Every stroke of each character was like an exquisitely perfect sword technique, interpreting the truth of the sword dao.
For some reason, Zhang Ruochen could understand the text:
"I am the Lord of the Sword Realm, the Ancestor of the Sword Dao. At the height of the universe, I had three thousand sword gods and billions of sword saints beneath me. Wherever my sword pointed, nothing could withstand it. I roamed the world, and all realms bowed their heads."
"Yet, darkness descended, and ten thousand swords were broken. The three thousand sword gods could not prevail, and the billions of sword saints could not stand against it. All were utterly destroyed, body and soul."
"I am the Sword Ancestor, but in truth, I am the Sword's End. The darkness is far stronger than the sword in my hand."
"How lamentable—the sword dao's eternal night."
"How sorrowful—the sword dao will perish."
Zhang Ruochen was struck by an intense shock. Such a powerful sword dao civilization had once existed in the world.
Three thousand sword gods, billions of sword saints, sweeping across the universe—who could stop them?
And the Sword Ancestor, who commanded three thousand sword gods—how powerful must his cultivation have been?
What was the relationship between this "Lord of the Sword Realm, Ancestor of the Sword Dao" and the Sword Ancestor from ancient Kunlun Realm?
Was the Sword Realm the same as the current Sword South Realm?
What did the "darkness" mentioned in the passage refer to? Even the Sword Ancestor couldn't defeat it, and all three thousand sword gods had died?
Zhang Ruochen was full of questions. He searched the cliff face, hoping to find more clues.
Continuing forward, he saw more text on another cliff:
"I am the Sword Ancestor, possessing eight ultimate treasures: Sword Courage, Sword Spirit, Sword Soul, Sword Heart, Sword Manual, Sword Bone, Sword Source, and Sword Dao Essence."
"Today, the Sword Realm is shattered, all living beings are dead. I bury these swords here, intending to go and fight the darkness to the death, yet I know this journey leads to certain death."
"If I die, the sword dao will surely wither."
"After three days of bitter thought, I finally leave my courage and spirit here and flee to the ends of the earth, hoping only to preserve this humiliated body, to survive between heaven and earth, and to find a great realm where I can continue to pass down the sword dao."
"When darkness descends again, the sword dao will surely charge at the forefront, tearing open the black curtain for the living beings of the universe, seeking the final chance for survival."
This passage left Zhang Ruochen almost breathless, his eyes bloodshot.
There was no doubt that the Sword Ancestor of the Kunlun Realm was not a native cultivator of Kunlun but had fled there after the Sword Realm's destruction.
What a magnificent figure the Sword Ancestor was, with endless legends in the Kunlun Realm. He had passed down the sword dao, influencing not only generations in Kunlun but also the sword dao of the Heavenly Court's myriad realms and the ten clans of Hell.
Even the "Wordless Sword Manual" had yet to be fully understood by any cultivator to this day.
Sword cultivators across the world surely revered the Sword Ancestor.
Yet how could a figure like the Sword Ancestor have such moments of powerlessness, helplessness, sorrow, and humiliation? He had been so frightened by the darkness that he abandoned his courage and spirit and fled to the Kunlun Realm.
Just how powerful was the enemy he called "darkness"? Was there truly not a single shred of hope?
Zhang Ruochen firmly believed that if the Sword Ancestor had even a sliver of hope, he would never have fled.
"Hua!"
The "Wordless Sword Manual" suddenly trembled violently, flying out of Zhang Ruochen's hand and toward the summit of the sword mountain.
Zhang Ruochen immediately gave chase, but when he tried to fly, he fell back to his original spot.
Helpless, he had to climb along a stone path, struggling toward the peak.
Halfway up the cliff, he saw a cave dwelling.
Above the cave were four ancient characters carved: "Place Where Sword Courage Was Left."
Beside the cave was a newly carved line of text, carrying the aura of the Underworld King: "Today, I have obtained the Sword Ancestor's Sword Courage. From now on, I fear nothing in this world."
"I shall wield the sword in my hand, upholding the Sword Ancestor's will. When darkness descends again, I will surely be the one charging at the forefront."
The Sword Courage had been taken by the Underworld King!
Zhang Ruochen entered the cave dwelling, and sure enough, it was empty.
So, he continued climbing along the stone path.
When he reached the summit of the sword mountain, he found a stone tablet and an ancient well.
On the stone tablet was carved: "Place Where Sword Spirit Was Left."
The Sword Ancestor had only been able to flee by abandoning his courage and spirit.
If his courage and spirit remained, he could never have escaped.
In other words, the Sword Ancestor who went to the Kunlun Realm could no longer be called the complete Sword Ancestor, and the sword dao he passed down was not the complete sword dao.
It was like the sword dao of the Kunlun Realm, which only knew how to cultivate the Sword Soul. When had any cultivator known that one also needed to cultivate the Sword Spirit?
The soul was the essence.
The spirit was the will.
The Sword Spirit was the spirit of the sword dao.
"Could the Sword Ancestor's Sword Spirit be in this ancient well?"