Chapter Thirty-Seven: Spiritual Mountains and Rivers

Ruoxi gritted her teeth, faint black threads creeping into her irises. With a sudden shift of her blade, she pointed it directly at Lin Kuang. The once pale blue sword energy began to darken, turning deep and abyssal, as if reaching toward something impossibly distant.

Seeing this, Moshan frowned and lunged toward her. Being already in close proximity, he appeared beside her in a flash of wind. With a heavy strike of his right hand against her shoulder, the black threads in her eyes began to recede, and her body went limp, collapsing like cotton onto the ground. He caught her, laid her gently down, and turned his gaze toward the Soul-Shocking Sword embedded in the earth.

This single strike had fundamentally altered Ruoxi’s fate; he would later realize that this action had been the right one, indirectly saving the girl’s life. Ruoxi had been consumed by rage, causing her internal energy to backflow—a sign of falling into a demonic state. At best, such a condition would cripple a practitioner’s martial arts; at worst, the chaotic energy surging to the brain would leave her a vegetable. Do not underestimate that light strike; it had not only dispersed the chaotic energy and stabilized her meridians, but also initiated the slow healing of the vessels that had ruptured. Such a feat required immense skill; otherwise, the volatile energy within Ruoxi would have backlashed onto the healer himself.

Moshan reached for the Soul-Shocking Sword. Strangely, even though he already held a sword in his hand, he was able to grasp the Soul-Shocking Sword as well. The two hilts slowly overlapped, emitting crackling sounds as if encountering immense resistance.

Frowning, he looked toward a pocket at Ruoxi’s hip, which was emitting a faint glow. He reached in and retrieved the stone that Lin Kuang had thrown to her. As Moshan gripped it, brilliant light spilled through his fingers. A moment later, he opened his palm, and the stone had vanished.

A look of satisfaction washed over Moshan’s face, and he turned his attention elsewhere.

Blackness had replaced the blue. Though the Soul-Shocking Sword had left Ruoxi’s hand, it still crackled with lightning. The sword Moshan originally held now completely enveloped the Soul-Shocking Sword. Wisps of lightning crawled across the blade and surged into Moshan’s palm, making his muscles twitch—the sensation of electric shock.

"A meteorite from the heavens, tempered by lightning—I never imagined its power would be this immense. I feel as though this is the very blade that once severed my body!"

A weary, aged voice emanated from Moshan. He rose slowly, his expression grave. Compared to when his arm was first severed, he seemed vastly improved. His black pupils fixed upon Lin Kuang, his gaze growing sharper, like a freshly honed blade—unstoppable and piercing.

Lin Kuang’s arrogant aura began to wane, replaced by a sense of gravity. He thought to himself, "Who exactly is this person? After losing an arm, he has become an entirely different man. Is there another soul hidden within him, or does he possess a dual personality?"

"From this day forth, this sword shall be named the Mountain-River Sword. From now on, the vast mountains and rivers of this Earth shall rest within my grasp." As he spoke, Moshan spat a drop of blood onto the blade he held. The sword turned entirely black, and the lightning gradually faded. A light breeze swept through the courtyard, and the excess black markings on the blade flaked away, revealing the Mountain-River Sword, which now shimmered with a dark, brilliant luster against the darkening sky.

No sooner had his voice faded than the Mountain-River Sword trembled in his grip. A beam of light erupted from the tip, piercing straight into the heavens. Thunder rolled across the sky, as if in response to his declaration.

Lin Kuang shuddered, the black mist around his body dissipating. His mouth hung open in shock.

A beam of light piercing the heavens—was this not the sign of a divine sword being born? Without even needing to be forged, he had elevated the Soul-Shocking Sword to a divine level, imbuing it with spirit. Was he even human? Was he truly just a boy of twelve or thirteen?

Lin Kuang was flooded with questions, failing even to notice that the black mist had vanished from his face.

Watching the pillar of light connect the earth to the sky in the distance, he sighed and whispered, "A divine sword is born, and the world will once again undergo earth-shattering changes. I only hope humanity can survive this catastrophe," the middle-aged man said, his face etched with sorrow.

"We must act now. They will assume we are the ones who caused this light; it is an excellent catalyst that we must utilize well!" he said, staring at the pagoda before him.

"Understood!" The man in black bowed his head and retreated slowly.