'Huaixu Great Calamity.'
These stories—An Jing had glimpsed fragments of them in ancient texts himself. That was ancient history from at least tens of thousands of years ago, and many records were vague and unclear.
The ancient immortal peoples finally drove out the Extramundane Demon and established many nations anew. The founder of Great Chen was one of them, and through the long Warring States era, it ultimately became the largest nation on the Northern Xuan Continent.
The murals were nearing their end. The farther inward they went, the richer and more complete the scenes became; some were clearly painted or retouched in later eras.
An Jing's expression grew graver.
Because he saw the revival of the Extramundane Demon.
As the long years passed, even the statue of the ancient Sword Immortal collapsed. Then, from Suspended Fate Valley, a towering surge of demonic qi erupted, faintly forming the image of the Extramundane Demon.
It guided the waters of a hundred rivers to scour Suspended Fate Valley, which had not originally been a valley, wearing down the seal in its attempt to break free. But the ancients turned this to their advantage, constructing an Earth Vein Grand Formation based on the mountains and rivers, and sealed the Extramundane Demon once more.
That was the origin of Suspended Fate Valley as it is now.
'The Extramundane Demon actually revived once?'
An Jing murmured, 'Fuxie, weren't you awake then?'
'I don't know...' the Sword Spirit said, its tone grave as well. 'My memory... too much is missing.'
'When did I shatter? It seems it was some time after that Extramundane Demon was slain. I even remember my fragments being enshrined here. Someone intended to use the sacrificial power of the people and the stimulation of the Extramundane Demon to awaken and revive me. This was the prototype of the grand formation that awakened your Destiny Patterns...'
'Yes, the original Suspended Fate Valley truly had no river, and there were many sacrificial caves on both sides of the valley walls... But later, the Extramundane Demon revived. As for the details of the second sealing, I truly don't know much.'
An Jing nodded slightly. He had actually noticed something odd: the Sword Spirit's sword hilt had been excavated in the Northern Frontier, his own homeland, and only by chance had it come to Suspended Fate Valley in the Northwest, where the Demon Sect kept it in its vault.
The power hidden in the sword hilt had not been discovered. The Sword Spirit's main consciousness resided in the hilt, while the fragments had little consciousness of their own.
Suspended Fate Valley had been overrun by demonic qi, and even the Demon Sect dared not enter. Yet when the Sword Spirit arrived, it could suppress the demonic qi, clearly showing its power to counter demonic qi.
But the 'fragment' in the valley had never shown any violent reaction to the demonic qi; a sacrificial rite was needed to suppress it.
Although the Earth Vein Sword Qi summoned by the grand formation of the sacrificial rite proved that it did exist, its condition was likely far from optimistic.
Speaking of which, the Sword Spirit's fragments had scattered across many lands back then, and some were even in other worlds...
An Jing instinctively felt that everything behind this was complicated.
Indeed, the shattering of a Sword Immortal's immortal sword must have had an exceedingly complicated background behind it.
This was the karma he had to bear for borrowing the Sword Spirit's power. After letting out a breath, he continued forward.
Soon, the long corridor came to an end.
A huge semicircular hall, utterly unlike anything natural, appeared deep within the canyon.
Before the hall was a check-mark-shaped staircase, so the interior was quite clean and tidy, with no traces of flooding. In the center, the rotted remains of a meditation cushion could faintly be seen.
An Jing stepped out of the corridor and into this artificially polished semicircular hall.
Then he saw it—the 'divine object' placed at the very back of the hall, atop a towering jade altar.
[Sword Blade Fragment]
A rather thick, rhomboid sword blade shimmered with a silver-green light.
An Jing was briefly stunned. For an instant, an extremely familiar feeling arose in him, as if he had seen this fragment millions of times—but he soon realized that the feeling was being transmitted to him by the Sword Spirit. The rusted sword trembled faintly in his Divine Sea. 'This is my sword root... But strange, where is the protective formation?'
An Jing looked around and saw that the walls and dome of the entire semicircular hall were covered with dense mountain-and-sea cloud patterns, dragon inscriptions, and phoenix talismans. On the pale green jade, they faintly formed a vast formation.
But it was not operating.
Or rather, it had been damaged.
On the pale green jade, streaks of gray-black had spread. Wherever those marks covered, the jade was rough, withered, and devoid of any warmth or spirituality.
It was like a person after death. The jade had lost all vitality and moisture, gradually 'rotting' over thousands of years into what it was now.
'Corrosion from the Extramundane Demon,' An Jing murmured. 'Only the innermost core area is still fairly intact.'
'Fortunately, there's still time.' The Sword Spirit sounded anxious, but quickly calmed down. 'Go and take it, An Jing, Sword Bearer. Take down my fragment. You have that right.'
'Mm.'
An Jing nodded slightly and walked forward, coming to the altar.
As he ascended, layer upon layer of jade-white radiance lit up on the steps. Just as the Sword Spirit had said, it did not obstruct him, allowing him to reach the top of the altar smoothly.
At this moment, even with his temperament, his heartbeat quickened.
An Jing took a deep breath, suppressed his impulse, and slowly reached out to touch the Sword Blade Fragment.
At that very instant, silver light burst forth.
The blue-green hue that had originally covered the jade, the broken sword, and the altar suddenly bloomed with radiance, illuminating the entire hemispherical cavern hall. The pale green jade around the inner walls of the hall also flickered in unison, their many halos interweaving and mixing to form a fairyland of clouds and mist.
Standing at the center of this fairyland, An Jing's expression changed slightly. As he touched it, the light on the sword blade and altar was rapidly condensing. The originally sharp and solid silver and the gentle, spiritual green both faded swiftly, turning into the lifeless gray-black of the jade on the walls corroded by the Extramundane Demon, like the rotting corpse of a dead person.
All the vitality and spirituality condensed into An Jing's hand, becoming a blurry fragment of light!
Then, this incomplete sword fragment, following a clear, ethereal arc, flew toward An Jing's forehead—and then, with the Sword Spirit's help, sank into his forehead!
He did not step back. An Jing straightened and raised a hand to touch his forehead. Finding no wound, and that the wetness was only cold sweat, he finally let out a breath of relief.
'You scared me, Fuxie. Don't do something so shocking next time, or at least tell me beforehand.'
To be honest, An Jing rather resented how well he had trained himself. If he had not trained himself so well, he could have plopped down on his butt just now and used the chance to lie there breathing deeply.
But An Jing's horse stance was as steady as if cast from iron. Even though cold sweat poured from his body and soaked all his clothes, he remained ramrod straight, and could only spend energy and mental effort to calm his thoughts bit by bit.
In his Divine Sea, above the hilt and guard of the Broken Blade, an extra section of sword body had appeared. The sword body was illusory, shining with radiance and releasing wisps of pale silver aura. Faintly, it caused An Jing's comprehension of 'Tranquil Sword Contemplation' to rise by a great deal.
He was not worried that the Sword Spirit had just tried to seize his body, because the Sword Spirit itself was also extremely shocked. 'How could this be... My sword body actually rotted, leaving only my spirit soul?!'
'I long ago attained the immortal and imperishable. Even a fragment should be eternal and undiminished. How could it rot to such an extent?'
An Jing did not know what realm of existence the Sword Spirit had been in back then, but its behavior had never been haughty; it had always been calm and courteous in conversation and advice. This was the first time he had seen the Sword Spirit lose its composure like this.
Even so, An Jing rather wanted to complain: What immortal and imperishable? Wasn't your previous main body just a broken rusted sword? Why are you so surprised that the sword blade rotted?
But that was not the limit—the next instant, An Jing sensed the broken sword in his Divine Sea trembling violently, and heard a voice so shocked it was almost dazed. 'How... how is this possible?!'
'My sword body actually doesn't contain my memories?!'
Chapter 45