Wails of the Demon Sword

Wails of the Demon Sword...

Qin Wentian cast a discerning eye over Zong Hong, immediately assessing his cultivation level—he was at the ninth level of Yuanfu. Engaging in a confrontation with Zong Hong would unquestionably be a case of overwhelming strength against the weak, a situation that left Qin Wentian feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

Zong Qian regarded Qin Wentian with a bewildered expression. The longer he knew Qin Wentian, the more enigmatic he found him. Whether facing Li Ran and Li Nian, or confronting Zong Hong, Qin Wentian remained as tranquil as a serene lake, his composure unwavering. Such individuals, capable of maintaining such temperament, were exceptionally rare, and they were often the ones who could wholeheartedly focus on their cultivation.

However, perhaps Zong Qian was unaware that Qin Wentian never once considered these individuals as his true opponents. Therefore, why should he allow himself to be provoked by them?

"Indeed, he's behaving in the same manner as when Li Nian challenged him. Someone with such character traits, how could he possibly befit the role of Sword Son in our Zong Clan?" Zong Hong sneered coldly, and those around him joined in the laughter. Clearly, they were all disgruntled about the clan lord's decision to select an outsider who carried a different surname.

Many struggled to accept this decision.

Suddenly, a buzzing sound filled the air as a sword materialized right in front of Zong Hong. He froze, the sword hovering just inches from his eyes, emanating a formidable sword intent that felt as though it could shatter him.

"Now that you are aware of my identity as the Sword Son, if you persist in showing disrespect, don't blame me for showing no mercy," Qin Wentian declared icily. With a slight gesture, he summoned the unsheathed sword back to him and began to walk away, completely ignoring Zong Hong and the others who stood there in stunned silence.

"Kacha!" Zong Hong clenched his fist tightly, his eyes gleaming with intense hostility. "I don't believe you can hide in your shell forever."

Qin Wentian acted as though he hadn't heard Zong Hong's threat, continuing on his way as planned. A few days later, another rumor began to circulate.

Word had it that Qin Wentian, an outsider who had been appointed as the Sword Son, might be chosen to participate in the battle for the rights to the sword range. This gossip spread like wildfire within the Zong Clan, and some started labeling him as cowardly as a mouse. They criticized him for not daring to accept Zong Hong's challenge and for previously retreating when facing Li Nian. The rumors surrounding Qin Wentian grew rampant.

Qin Wentian understood that this turmoil was the consequence of assuming the mantle of Sword Son. Defeating Zong Hong wouldn't resolve the issue—there would always be another, or ten more, or even a hundred Zong Hongs appearing to challenge him. If he wanted to silence the younger generation members of the Zong Clan, he had only one option: to display such overwhelming talent and might that they would be rendered speechless.

In the quiet confines of the Zong Clan's library, Qin Wentian sat cross-legged, engrossed in reading ancient scrolls.

These scrolls held the secrets of sword techniques, meticulously engraved by generations of sword experts, along with accounts of their cultivation journeys.

Qin Wentian's focus was on deciphering the Mandate of Swords. The first level was a common foundation, shared among all cultivators. However, the second level depended on one's destiny and luck. He hoped to gain new perspectives and broaden his horizons by delving into the experiences of past cultivators.

"I read about a sword expert who meditated for seven years, merging his heart with his sword. Eventually, he unlocked the second level insight known as Sword Heart," Qin Wentian murmured as he perused the scroll.

Although the first level insights were uniform, the power of the second level varied greatly among different Mandates. Sword Heart allowed one to resonate their heart with the sword, causing their sword intent to connect with their opponent's heart, instantly rending it apart. The might of this second level insight surpassed even his Heartbreak Echo technique.

"Another swordsman grasped the second level insight, Sword Shadow. Each slash of his sword turned ethereal, transforming his sword shadows into tangible, bewildering attacks. This insight made killing an opponent nearly undetectable."

Qin Wentian continued reading, captivated by the intricacies of these second level insights. In battles between cultivators of the same realm, a well-wielded sword could snatch away an opponent's life in an instant.

Swords were the sovereign weapon, capable of harvesting lives within the blink of an eye. Engaging a formidable sword expert required extreme caution.

"I need further tempering before I can grasp such insights. Sitting here and poring over books can only take me so far. Time is running out," Qin Wentian reflected before returning the scroll to its place and exiting the library.

The night had already fallen, and under the shroud of darkness, Qin Wentian soared into the sky. A sword formed from astral energy appeared beneath his feet, carrying him swiftly in a particular direction.

Many cultivators in Sword Reverence City traveled on flying swords, so Qin Wentian's mode of transport didn't draw undue attention.

After a brief flight, Qin Wentian arrived at a precipice overlooking Sword Reverence City. Descending towards the precipice, he observed the sword range bathed in the silvery glow of the moon.

A formidable sword intent pressed upon him, but the astral sword beneath his feet steadfastly resisted the force.

Finally, illuminated by the moonlight, Qin Wentian beheld a colossal sword, nearly one thousand meters long, buried deep within the earth. A potent sword-might emanated from the blade, warping the surrounding mountains into the shape of a sword under its immense pressure.

Several cultivators stood guard nearby. As Qin Wentian approached, one of them called out, "The sword range is restricted. You are not permitted to go any further."

Zong Qian had informed Qin Wentian that for the past decade, the Heavenly Sword Sect had controlled the sword range. These guards were likely members of that sect.

Qin Wentian couldn't help but shiver as he stared at the colossal sword buried in the earth. It stretched an astonishing one thousand meters in length, nearly as tall as a mountain. The rumors appeared to hold some truth, suggesting that this precipice had been formed by a mighty sword strike from this very weapon.

Though Qin Wentian could now see the massive sword, there remained a considerable distance between him and the blade. If they stood on level ground rather than this precipice, the sword would be visible from hundreds of miles away.

"It's no wonder no one has managed to pull this sword out after all these years," Qin Wentian muttered.

Just how heavy was this sword? Even if a Heavenly Dipper Sovereign had the strength to withdraw it, how could they wield it effectively in combat? Its size and weight rendered it utterly impractical for ordinary humans to even lift, let alone fight with.

Above them, starlight descended from the heavens and was absorbed by the demon sword, intensifying the surrounding demonic energy.

"A demon sword of this size... can it truly cleave the earth with a single slash?" Qin Wentian pondered aloud.

Turning away from the awe-inspiring sight, he decided to carve out a cave in the nearby mountains and settled down in a cross-legged position. He harbored no illusions of possessing the demon sword; he had merely come out of curiosity after hearing Zong Qian's story and wanted to experience the sword's energy for himself.

With his eyes closed, he entered a deep meditation. As long as he didn't venture into the sword range, the Heavenly Sword Sect's members would likely leave him alone.

Silent hours passed, and as the night deepened, an eerie wind swept through, accompanied by a faint, mournful wail—a sound akin to the lamentation of the departed.

The noise was incredibly subtle, and only Qin Wentian's acute senses allowed him to detect it. This sorrowful wailing slowly transformed into the pitiful cries of a demon. Amidst these anguished howls, a hint of a sword's lament emerged, growing increasingly distinct.

Qin Wentian's perception was extraordinarily keen, and his sensitivity to demonic beings was unmatched.

"ROAR...!"

Suddenly, a thunderous demonic roar echoed in his ears, and Qin Wentian felt an onslaught of sword intent rushing towards him. In a split second, he retreated with lightning speed, his heart pounding fiercely. When he put his fingers to his neck, he felt a dampness that sent shivers down his spine.

In that fleeting moment, his neck had nearly been sliced apart. The illusory sword intent and the mournful wail vanished as if they had never existed.

The bizarre and unsettling scene left Qin Wentian's heart in turmoil, his mind racing to understand what had just occurred.

"Hu..." Inhaling deeply, Qin Wentian returned to his seated position. He extended his perception, realizing that the eerie wails of the demon were resuming, growing louder and more pervasive with each passing moment.

It was as if a parade of sword shadows manifested before him—a dragon-shaped one, a vermilion bird, a white tiger, and even a Xuanwu. These spectral sword shadows emerged from the very bedrock encasing the demon sword, each harboring a powerful sword intent. After years of confinement, these shadows were on the cusp of breaking free, gaining sentience, and becoming demonic swords.

"Everything I've heard about these demonic swords in the sword range must be true," Qin Wentian murmured, taking another deep breath. Suddenly, the furious, dragon-like roar of a demonic sword surged forth, aiming to strike him down where he sat.

With lightning reflexes, Qin Wentian retracted his perception. In an instant, the oppressive pressure, the sword intent, and the ominous keening all vanished.

"As I suspected," Qin Wentian muttered, his heart racing with excitement. What if he could harness this terrifying energy to aid him in comprehending the second level insight of the Mandate of Swords? What kind of enlightenment might he attain?

Fueled by his eagerness, Qin Wentian plunged himself once more into deep meditation.

Time flowed on as the sun and moon waned. Seven days had passed since Qin Wentian took refuge in the cave. Its proximity to the sword range attracted an increasing number of onlookers, all eagerly anticipating the impending battle for supremacy.

In these days of seclusion, the Sword Son of the Zong Clan, Qin Wentian, had vanished without a trace, sparking rampant speculation. Rumors swirled, suggesting that he was hiding, aware that he couldn't compete with the representatives of the other two major powers.

It was as if, following Zong Hong's challenge, Qin Wentian had evaporated from existence.

Meanwhile, within a specific area of the Zong Clan's estate, two opposing groups confronted each other. Zong Hong and Zong Qian led their respective factions. Zong Hong's voice dripped with sarcasm as he taunted, "Where's that good friend of yours you invited? Hiding, is he?"

"Brother Qin has his own priorities and doesn't need to account for his whereabouts to the likes of you," Zong Qian responded coolly. Zong Hong, however, let out a derisive laugh, his supporters echoing his disdain. They were far from convinced and vehemently rejected Qin Wentian's legitimacy, especially one of them, Zong Peng.

Zong Peng was a "nominee" for the title of Sword Son who had been selected to participate in the decisive Heavenly Dipper level battle within the sword range. This battle held unparalleled importance; winning it would secure their victory. The only exception would be if one of the three major powers won two consecutive battles at the Yuanfu Realm before the third and final showdown.

Zong Peng had always assumed that the title of Sword Son would naturally be his after the battle. To his shock, it had now been granted to an outsider.

"After the sword range battle, I will strip him of his position," Zong Peng declared, locking eyes with Zong Qian. His words elicited cold, mocking laughter from the nearby onlookers, who then shifted their gaze towards Zong Qian.