"Test of the Sword Spirit?!"
Wang Anfeng's heart pounded heavily, and Shi Huaidie had already stepped aside, nodding lightly, her voice calm, saying: "That's right."
"The Thousand-Year Sword Spirit is closer to the legendary immortals and gods than it is to humans. Its test is likely to be mysterious and inscrutable, not something that can be passed just by having sufficient martial arts skill..."
"I can say no more, and I cannot walk further. How to proceed from here, you'll have to rely on yourself."
A myriad of fragmented thoughts flitted through Wang Anfeng's mind in an instant, but outwardly, he appeared even more composed and calm. He nodded, transferred the blade in his hand to his left hand, and raised his right hand to press it against the door of the grass hut.
Though it's called the dream of the Sword Spirit, the sensation is no different from that of real wood.
He paused slightly, applied a bit of force, and with a creak, pushed the wooden door open inward.
Wang Anfeng stepped inside, and in Shi Huaidie's vision, the moment his hand touched the wooden house, he disappeared, with even the Qi mechanism of a martial artist becoming imperceptible. Even though she had, under the teacher's directive, successfully arrived at this strange scene over the past year, witnessing this moment made her emotions fluctuate.
The Fish Intestine Sword sheathed in its scabbard trembled continuously.
First in the rank of Divine Weapons, first in the rank of Divine Swords.
Even since ancient times, its status was second only to the mythical creations, Divine Weapon: Zhan Lu.
Wang Anfeng's vision brightened slightly; what he saw before was just an ordinary wooden hut, just several zhang in circumference, but with one step out, heaven and earth suddenly changed, concepts of distance and dimension dragged away, and the world before him continuously expanded further inward, seemingly endless.
On both sides, screens stood, on them, scenes of rugged drawings.
At the beginning, a tall man wielded a heavy hammer, leading a man and a woman, traversing the world. Their surroundings constantly changed, and the two he led grew from children to adolescents, then to youths, until they finally stopped walking.
Wang Anfeng's heart stirred slightly, murmuring to himself:
"Ouyang Zhi wielded his fine skills, traveling directly into the depths of Zhan Lu Mountain, setting up a forge at the most superior and remote spot at its foot."
"Is this... the origin of the Zhan Lu Sword?"
He buried the vague premonition in his heart and walked forward.
As he continued forward, the images on the screens on both sides kept changing. Watching these scenes unfold, fragments of phrases he had read in various ancient texts emerged in his mind.
They sought materials for swordsmithing from all over the world, acquiring tin from the Chi Jin Mountain and copper from the Ruoye River.
The Rain God swept the site, the Thunder God struck it, the Flood Dragon cradled the forge, and the Heavenly Emperor packed the coal.
After three years, the sword was completed.
Upon completion, the sword emitted a brilliant light penetrating the heavens, fighting brilliance with the sun and moon, stars evaded in awe, and ghosts and gods wailed in lament.
Originally, Wang Anfeng thought what was recorded in these texts were mere exaggerations, the aspirations of future generations towards that tangled era of myth and history, but if what's depicted on these screens really were events the Zhan Lu Sword experienced, it might not be just the ramblings of literati.
The final scene showed the swordsmith kneeling atop Cang Mountain, holding the Zhan Lu Sword in his hands.
Under the ink-colored sky, that sword seemed like the divine eye of heaven, observing the beings of the world.
The strokes of the image were extremely rough, yet its magnitude was vast and overwhelming.
A voice echoed in Wang Anfeng's ear, as if transmitted from a thousand years past, word by word, like a mighty hammer striking the void, each utterance sincere yet contemptuous.
"This sword, should be unbreakable."
"The blade bears no murderous intent, unsheathed as divine, revered as powerful, to show the world that the benevolent are invincible."
Wang Anfeng's steps paused slightly, and with the voice, winds and clouds surged on the screens; Ouyang Zhi, with a resolute face and graying temples, appeared before him, towering in stature, having spent twenty years for one sword, holding the Zhan Lu Sword, raising its edge, pointing at Wang Anfeng, eyes pure and fervent, said:
"Do you wish to seek this sword?"
Wang Anfeng recalled Lv Yingbo's words earlier, understanding that this was the first checkpoint of the Sword Spirit test, and without concealing his intention, he held the knife in his right hand and said calmly:
Ouyang Zhi laughed heartily three thousand years ago, holding the sword in his right hand, gesturing with his hand, saying:
"Come! Come!" Read complete versıon only at novel fire.net
Holding the knife with his right hand, Wang Anfeng felt as though something swept through his mental state, but to him, there was no abnormality, instead feeling his Qi mechanism smoother by three points, his grip on the knife stronger, seeing Ouyang Zhi already charging with the sword, he collected all distractions, moving forward with the blade.
Holding the Mo Blade diagonally, he suddenly fought back upward.
Knife and sword clashed, ringing sharply.
"Path of Heart Inquiry..."
In the Shaolin Temple, Yuan Ci rarely opened his eyes, looking 'outside'.
Wang Anfeng himself attained the martial arts height of the Fourth Rank, and Ouyang Zhi, an ancient swordsmith, was recorded to have forged five weapons, each divine sword he crafted raised his realm another step, until finally, with the creation of the Zhan Lu devoid of any killing intent, he entered the Great Grandmaster realm, was an exceptionally brilliant figure.
But now he was merely the vestige of a swordsmith Grandmaster of antiquity.
This vestige clashed with Wang Anfeng, who was gradually gaining the upper hand.
The Ancient Taoist discerned the matter, nodded, saying: "I see, it's Heart Inquiry... Only those who gain recognition can qualify to wield the sword, and qualification isn't determined by martial arts realm."