5078 Sword Tomb
The mindless sword blanks gradually disappeared, vanishing completely when they reached the halfway point.
In their place, pristine True Swords emerged. Time seemed to have left no mark on these sword blades.
They gleamed as if freshly forged, exuding a rich aura that coalesced into a thin mist.
These True Swords were now more than adequate for ordinary cultivators.
However, in the eyes of Jian Wushuang, they lacked something crucial—resonant sentience.
Only when True Swords possessed sentience could they resonate with their wielders.
Unfortunately, he felt no sentience emanating from any of these True Swords.
At that moment, Nan Xuan suddenly spoke up, "Young Friend, be alert. I sense a significant energy fluctuation at the mountaintop."
Jian Wushuang nodded, feeling the same disturbance from the mountaintop.
There were even more True Swords on the mountainside than at its base, numbering no less than 200,000 by a rough estimate.
Yet, out of these 200,000 True Swords, not one had gained sentience.
Though he was quite puzzled by this, Jian Wushuang still strolled towards the mountaintop.
As the first trial of the three, he did not believe it would be this easy.
As expected, at the next moment, the mountaintop trembled violently. Then, a curtain of countless True Swords descended from the heavens.
Boom!!!
The mountain was shaking. Nan Xuan raised his eyebrows and prepared to attack.
However, Jian Wushuang acted first.
He took a step forward, swung his right arm, and thousands of sword light beams burst forth instantly!
The collision between the two forces sent shockwaves throughout the Sword Mountain, reducing all the True Swords within a thousand miles to dust.
The sword curtain also shattered, dispersing in all directions.
A huge crisis was resolved just like that.
But Jian Wushuang did not pause for even a moment. He leaped straight to the mountaintop!
Nan Xuan followed closely, quickly catching up.
Upon reaching the mountaintop, a unique atmosphere, distinct from that of the mountain's base and slopes, spread out, causing even the clouds to turn a dark red hue.
It was an ancient desolate aura, vast and breathless, a solitude that seemed to transcend the concept of time itself, affecting even Yan Immortals.
As they gazed into the distance, upon the dark-brown, ravaged mountaintops, they saw fragmented longswords, some embedded at odd angles, some buried beneath the earth, all carrying an unspeakable sense of desolation.
Each sword, though broken, retained its sharpness, untouched by the ravages of time.
It appeared as if this place had borne witness to a ferocious battle, the swordsmen long gone, leaving behind a land soaked in divine blood.
"There is only sadness left here." Nan Xuan muttered. Then, he scooped up a handful of soil from the ground under his feet.
The soil was blood-red, as if repeatedly soaked.
"This is not Sword Mountain; it is a Sword Tomb," said Jian Wushuang, eyeing all the shattered longswords.
Despite enduring countless ages and suffering fractures, these longswords retained their sentience.
Jian Wushuang could even sense a faint resonance among them.
At that moment, an ancient voice, seemingly from nowhere, resounded.
"Well said. This is indeed a Sword Tomb, my final resting place."
Jian Wushuang and Nan Xuan became alert at the same time. They even released their Yan power simultaneously.
"Do not worry; I mean you no harm. I simply wish to talk," the voice continued.
With the voice's descent, all the broken longswords emitted a soft hum.
Then, a figure in a black robe appeared atop the mountain peak, descending slowly.
With each step he took, the shattered longswords moved in rhythm, as if welcoming an old friend they hadn't seen in ages.
Jian Wushuang's heart was on edge. He could distinctly feel the dreadfulness emanating from the figure in the black robe, an ancient aura.
"I have been asleep for a very long time, and I haven't spoken in ages," he said.
In a matter of moments, the figure in the black robe stood before Jian Wushuang and lowered the hood that covered his face.
The hood revealed a face that, though aged, bore a resolute countenance, much like a sword, captivating and piercing.
Jian Wushuang remained silent, looking at the elderly figure before him. He strangely felt a sense of familiarity.
As for Nan Xuan, he was rendered speechless. Despite being a Grand Yan Immortal, the aura emanating from the elderly figure easily overwhelmed him.
Hence, neither of them dared to make any rash moves.
Observing their cautious expressions, the elderly figure in the black robe smiled warmly, "Do not be afraid. I am just a broken Sword Spirit, and I harbor no ill intentions towards you."
"A Sword Spirit?" Jian Wushuang's heart trembled, looking at the elderly figure in disbelief.
A True Sword with a spirit could only lead to a deeper level of mastery.
Long before encountering this black-robed elder, Jian Wushuang had speculated about his identity, but the one thing he hadn't anticipated was the Sword Spirit.
To grow to such an extent, what a terrifying existence the Sword Spirit must be!
It was an unimaginable existence, even more bewildering than a Sword Immortal.
To be born as a tool, to transform into a soul, and ultimately become a Sword Spirit, continuously ascending to the pinnacle. And now, this elder was the pinnacle of the Sword Spirit.
At this moment, the black-robed elder chuckled again, "I almost forgot to mention, even before I went into slumber, I was already a Peak Grand Yan Immortal."
"..."
"..."
Peak Grand Yan Immortals, surpassing Nine Revolutions, the closest one could get to Emperor-level cultivation. Even in that Ancient Era, Peak Grand Yan Immortals were exceedingly rare.
And this black-robed elder was not just a Sword Spirit but also a Peak Grand Yan Immortal?!
This completely exceeded Jian Wushuang's imagination.
If a Sword Spirit could reach the pinnacle of the Grand Yan Immortal, what level of existence would its master be?
Nan Xuan was completely speechless. Everything that had happened during his time by Jian Wushuang's side, the encounters with Yan Immortals, and even the legendary Grand Yan Immortals, had all far surpassed his imagination.
What he had once been proud of seemed almost insignificant now...
Jian Wushuang gulped. He had never thought that there would be such a terrifying existence in Sancun Mountain.
The black-robed elder paid no heed to the astonishment in his eyes and continued, "Young one, as the stars revolve and the years pass, I must ask, where is this place where I slumber located?"
Despite the shock he felt, Jian Wushuang, an individual who had experienced countless battles, quickly composed himself and replied, "This place belongs to the Great Si Region."
"The Great Si? Excellent, excellent," the black-robed elder revealed a highly satisfied expression. "Then, let me ask one more question: Who is the Emperor of this Great Si Region?"
"The Emperor of the Great Si Region… Is Zhen Wuyang."
As Jian Wushuang spoke, a realization dawned in his eyes.
