The weapons on the first floor of the Divine Armory Pavilion looked completely ordinary.
There were no radiant glows or fearsome auras, just plain, dusty tools lined up quietly on the walls.
Xu Zimo stepped inside. The air smelled faintly of rust. Because disciples of the True Martial Sacred Ground rarely came to the first floor to select weapons, many of the mortal-grade weapons had gathered a layer of dust over time.
Near the entrance, an old man dozed in a reclining chair. He opened one eye when he saw Xu Zimo and his guard approach, gave them a glance, and lazily said:
“Pick whatever you want. One weapon per person. Just tell me when you leave.”
Then he turned over and went right back to sleep.
“What kind of attitude is that?” Zhang Zhongtian grumbled.
“It’s fine,” Xu Zimo said, shaking his head. He gave the old man a meaningful look, then continued inside.
He didn’t hesitate or search much. He headed straight to a corner of the room, where a wall was densely lined with weapons, blades, spears, staves, even rare and unusual types.
Amid the mass, one weapon in the bottom left corner caught his eye.
It was a slightly curved saber, about five feet long. Its edge looked extremely sharp, and the blade had a gentle arc. It weighed about 15 pounds in hand. The hilt was patterned with a cross-hatched grip, thick and heavy in the palm.
“This one,” Xu Zimo said, ignoring Zhang Zhongtian’s surprise, and walked with the saber to the old man at the entrance.
The old man, disturbed from his nap again, glanced at the saber with disinterest and muttered,
Xu Zimo nodded without a word, sheathed the blade, strapped it to his back, and turned to leave.
“Oh… right. Its name is Shadow Tyrant,” the old man suddenly called out behind him.
“Shadow Tyrant, huh? Of course I know it,” Xu Zimo replied with a smirk, not even turning around as he vanished into the breeze.
Xu Zimo was sure that he would never forget the words his father once said:
“A true saber wielder is someone who can awaken the soul within the blade, and earn its recognition.”
In his previous life, Xu Zimo hadn’t paid much attention to that advice. To him, a weapon was just a tool for killing, nothing more, nothing less.
Until that battle in Nether Dragon Ravine, when Shadow Tyrant was shattered by Chu Yang’s weapon.
Only in that moment, when the saber broke, did Xu Zimo truly hear its cry of sorrow.
Only then did he realize what his father meant. But by then, it was too late.
Returning to his courtyard, Xu Zimo sat down cross-legged and began cultivating.
In his previous life, he started by training in the Annihilation Codex, the technique of the Grand Emperor San Dao.
In his previous timeline, he cultivated it all the way to the Imperial Meridian Realm before he began forging his own path.
Abandoning the Annihilation Codex, he started researching, deducing, and creating a completely original technique, his own.
He named it: Grand Freedom Sovereign Codex.
This technique focused on mastering the past, present, and future.
When perfected, it would allow one to reach the source of time itself, connecting with versions of oneself from the past and even future epochs, traversing multiple timelines.
Unfortunately, in his previous life, after reaching the God Meridian Realm, he hit a wall. A deep emotional knot in his heart blocked further progress.
That’s why he sought out Chu Yang, to resolve that knot. But he failed miserably.
This time, however, after being reborn, something clicked. He suddenly felt more clarity about the concepts of time, past and future.
He believed, without a doubt, that he could complete the technique, and take a step beyond the God Meridian Realm.
Creating your own cultivation method was something every true cultivator had to do eventually.
No matter how powerful a legacy might be, it was still someone else’s path, it could only be a reference, never a perfect fit.
Xu Zimo trained through the night, continually refining his codex.
As dawn broke, he stretched with a yawn.
Even though he hadn’t slept all night, he felt completely energized. That was the beauty of cultivation, at Mortal Realm Stage Nine, he could go seven days and nights without sleep and feel only mildly fatigued.
As the morning sun rose, Lin Ruhu arrived at South Goose Mountain, looking for Xu Zimo.
He was carrying a huge burlap sack on his back, glancing over his shoulder with every step like he was sneaking around.
“What’s with you?” Xu Zimo asked curiously after washing up.
“Zimo, I got you something good,” Lin Ruhu grinned, then opened the sack.
Inside were two unconscious chicks lying quietly.
Their feathers were pure gold, with deep purple combs, shimmering scales of plumage, and crimson tail feathers.
Their beaks looked like they were carved from crystal jade, transparent and flawless.
“Alchemy Sage-Fowls?” Xu Zimo asked, shocked. “Where’d you get these?”
“Oh, I went to Sky Gorge Mountain this morning to see Liao Ruyan,” Lin Ruhu said with innocent eyes, blinking rapidly. “I saw these two chicks lying on the ground. Poor things, so I, uh, picked them up.”
“You stole them, didn’t you?” Xu Zimo narrowed his eyes.
“Hey! We’re scholars, how could you call it stealing?” Lin Ruhu argued. “I just... picked them up conveniently.”
“I don’t mind,” Xu Zimo said with a casual smile. “They’re the Grand Elder’s pets, right? I heard Alchemy Sage-Fowls are raised on spirit herbs from birth. Every part of them, meat, blood, even bones, is infused with dense spiritual energy. Perfect. There’s two. One braised, one steamed.”
“Awesome!” Lin Ruhu licked his lips excitedly.
“But it’d be a waste to cook them with regular firewood,” Xu Zimo said, then turned to Zhang Zhongtian. “Go to Ancient Herb Mountain and cut some branches from the spirit trees.”
“Master Xu, those trees and herbs are the Second Grand Elder’s darlings,” Zhang Zhongtian said awkwardly. “If he finds out I cut his trees, he’ll flay me alive.”
“He won’t find out,” Xu Zimo replied. “At this time of day, the Second Elder’s probably off spying on Outer Court female disciples bathing. You’ll be fine.”
Zhang Zhongtian hesitated, then said, “If anything happens, Young Master Xu, you better protect me. I’m your man now.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ve got your back,” Xu Zimo promised.
“Also, let’s get something straight. You’re my guard, not ‘my man.’ Be careful how you phrase that. People might get the wrong idea.”