Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Time flowed differently inside and outside the secret realm. By the time Rong Yu was drunkenly helped back to his room by Rong Baichuan that night, Lu Shitu had already spent three days within the secret realm.

Following the ancient formation he had discovered in old texts, he had transitioned from the mirror-like space where sky and water merged into the secret realm's mountainous terrain. Now, he traversed forests indistinguishable from those outside, with lush green vegetation lining the mountain path and the occasional chirping of birds.

Lu Shitu had reached the general area marked on Rong Yu’s map and began circling, hoping to uncover some clues.

After a few circuits, Lu Shitu gradually noticed a change in the path ahead. He had memorized the landmarks on his first pass and was certain that the current path was not one he had previously taken.

He continued forward, but the path suddenly forked. Between the two diverging paths lay a disheveled old man, his hair wild. His white robe was spotless, yet its edges looked as if gnawed by a dog, resembling a piece of ragged cloth haphazardly draped over him.

The old man lay peacefully on a bluestone slab, languidly reciting, “This road was opened by me.”

Lu Shitu calmly replied, “Indeed. What does this elder require of me?”

Hearing this, the old man lifted one eyelid and cast a sidelong glance. Something in that look seemed to pique his interest. He slowly sat up, scrutinizing Lu Shitu intently for a long moment before letting out a quiet "Huh."

The old man remarked with surprise, “Young man, your destiny is extraordinary. You shouldn’t have crossed my path. Well, never mind. Go pluck a flower from that cliff over there…” As he spoke, he let out another "Huh," narrowed his eyes, and added, “Wait… your cultivation level… How can you be mortal??”

Based on the old man’s words, Lu Shitu quickly deduced that this was likely a sword spirit or similar entity tasked with administering trials. Perhaps more powerful individuals had dedicated sword spirits, while this one was the common sword spirit encountered by ordinary people.

Hearing the question, Lu Shitu remained impassive, replying with calm dignity, “This junior’s spiritual root has been destroyed. I cannot cultivate.”

Upon hearing this, the old man’s expression abruptly turned hostile. “With your spiritual root destroyed, what use do you have for a sword? Don’t even think about it. Get out!”

Lu Shitu watched him calmly, neither speaking nor moving.

After a long moment, the old man said irritably, “Didn’t you hear me? What are you still doing here? Do you really want a sword that badly? Fine. See that cliff over there? Climb up and pluck a flower. If you can’t do it, forget about the sword.”

Without hesitation, Lu Shitu started toward the cliff. The old man behind him seemed startled, his irritable demeanor fading, replaced by a complex expression as he watched Lu Shitu’s retreating figure.

The cliff the old man indicated was nearby—a sheer face thousands of feet high, perilous and daunting. For a cultivator, ascending on a sword would take mere moments. But for a mortal martial artist, such agility was impossible; the only way was to climb, inch by arduous inch.

Yet, to climb it—the cliff was almost vertical, covered with jagged, sharp rocks that resembled blades embedded in the mountain. It was not merely difficult; it was a hellish challenge.

Lu Shitu approached the cliff and grasped the first rock, beginning his ascent. The rock immediately cut his hand, but he seemed oblivious, allowing the blood to drip slowly.

He climbed bit by bit, his hands and arms soon covered in cuts, his clothes torn. The path he left behind was stained with blood, a gruesome trail.

After all, he was human, with keen senses. No matter how strong-willed, it was difficult to suppress his body’s reactions. The higher he climbed, the more his face betrayed signs of pain. Yet he only clenched his jaw, uttering not a sound, maintaining his pace as if unaware that the wounds on his fingers were deep enough to expose bone.

The old man watched him, initially shocked, then gradually showing a hint of pity.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lu Shitu finally struggled to the summit. His face was pale, large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. But without a moment’s delay, he reached out and plucked a vibrant red flower, clutching it tightly before letting out a relieved sigh.

He paused, his body wracked with excruciating pain, leaving him almost utterly spent. Gasping for breath, he instinctively touched his chest and whispered softly, “Shizun…”

Just those two words seemed to imbue him with boundless courage. He rallied himself, pressed his lips together, and began his descent.

As he climbed down, he missed his footing, stepping into empty space and falling from halfway up the cliff. His first instinct was to protect the flower cradled in his arms.

Just as Lu Shitu was about to crash heavily to the ground, the old man could no longer bear to watch. With a wave of his hand, Lu Shitu found himself standing unharmed before him.

In an instant, Lu Shitu was back on the ground. Aside from a lingering sensation of pain, he looked down to find no injuries on his body, his clothes clean and pristine.

The old man looked at him with a complex expression. “Young man, tell me, why do you desire a sword so intensely?”

Lu Shitu’s face was still pale, his hair damp with sweat and clinging to his skin. He replied calmly but resolutely, “Only with a sword in hand can I protect those who matter. I refuse to stand by helplessly and watch them face danger again.”

The old man seemed taken aback by his words. After a moment, he shook his head regretfully. “You are remarkable, truly remarkable… But in your condition, even if you enter, it’s futile. No sword spirit will accept you. And you must know that entering the secret realm and failing to obtain a sword will inflict severe physical and mental trauma—a hundred times more painful than what you just endured. Why put yourself through such suffering?”

Lu Shitu handed the flower branch to the old man and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Elder.”

The old man watched him for a long moment, then sighed in resignation and pointed to the left path. Lu Shitu walked into it without hesitation, his figure disappearing around the corner.

After a long pause, the old man couldn't help but sigh. “If this young man could obtain that sword, there might still be hope for his recovery… But how is that possible? In this world, no one has been able to wield that sword for a long time.”

“With his physical condition, he’s merely throwing his life away…”

The old man lamented but could only shake his head regretfully before vanishing on the spot.

Meanwhile, not far away, Jiang Ziliu had already completed his trial. He spat contemptuously. “What do you mean I’m not the one? This sword should be mine! If not mine, then whose? That waste’s? And you ask me why I’m here? What a pointless question.”

After passing the trial, Jiang Ziliu had been walking along the path indicated by the young spirit for at least an hour. He began to suspect that the spirit had deliberately misled him. Growing increasingly frustrated, he felt like venting his anger by hacking at the surrounding trees.

But before he could act, his path was abruptly blocked by a cliff that seemed to reach the heavens.

The cliff stood upright in the middle of the path, perpendicular to the ground. Its surface was incredibly smooth, made of a material that was neither stone, nor earth, nor wood. Its color shifted between deep black, gray, and brown, as if changing with the angle of view. A faint, shimmering glow circulated around it, making it strangely mesmerizing.

At the center of the cliff was a seam resembling a door crack, as if waiting for someone to open it.

Jiang Ziliu shivered with excitement. This was the legendary Immortal’s Stele! And the sword he sought—Blaze—was inside!

The Immortal’s Stele was not well-known in the outside world, but within the secret realm of the immortal swords, it was a place everyone knew of. Yet no one knew where it was or when it would appear.

Legend had it that the Immortal’s Stele was erected by Zhao Xijing’s subordinate in his memory. Zhao Xijing had died in the final battle, but his subordinate survived. To commemorate him, the subordinate erected this stele and left his own sword behind to accompany him.

That sword was the renowned Blaze, the most famous fire-attribute sword in the secret realm, coveted by every fire-affinity cultivator.

“As expected! Hahahaha! I am truly the one favored by heaven!” Jiang Ziliu laughed heartily, the built-up frustration in his chest vanishing instantly. He felt exhilarated, wishing the whole world could see his achievement.

That was Blaze! And he had found it!

After his laughter subsided, Jiang Ziliu lowered his head and confidently poured his spiritual energy into the “door” on the Immortal’s Stele.

Soon, a faint figure emerged from within the stele, clad in ancient white battle robes, its figure lonely. A distant voice echoed from the figure, “Who approaches?”

Jiang Ziliu declared confidently, “One destined to be here.”

The figure continued, “For what purpose?”

“To seek a sword.”

“Why seek a sword?”

“To become the strongest under heaven!”

The figure fell silent for a moment before vanishing without another word.

Since Jiang Ziliu had reached this point, he was fated to claim this sword. In truth, the sword already belonged to him; nothing could change that.

The stone slab split open along the central seam with a thunderous roar, like a massive door swinging inward. The entire mountain shook violently, and even the entire secret realm of the immortal swords trembled.

Within the opened “door,” a red light shimmered. A long sword was embedded diagonally inside, its hilt crafted from red spirit stone, resembling a red-tasseled spear at first glance, exuding an imposing aura.

It was Blaze!

By now, many disciples had already obtained their swords and were preparing to return to the ship. Witnessing the earth-shaking event, they stopped in awe and began moving toward Jiang Ziliu’s location.

At this moment, Jiang Ziliu sensed something amiss and immediately turned to look—Lu Shitu was approaching empty-handed from not far away, his brow slightly furrowed, as if he too had come seeking a sword.

At this moment, Jiang Ziliu’s exhilaration reached its peak. He gave Lu Shitu a supremely smug smile, then turned around and yanked out "Blaze" in one smooth motion!

Did Lu Shitu actually think he could compete with me for Blaze? A toad lusting after swan meat—what a joke! Just watch how this sword ends up in my hands!

Immediately after, the two "doors" of the Immortal Monument began to rumble and shake once more, and the entire mountain trembled as if struck by an earthquake. When the shaking finally ceased, the Immortal Monument had closed again, the central seam had vanished, and the shimmering halo that once flowed across its surface was gone. It seemed to have lost its divine aura, reduced to nothing more than an ordinary road-blocking boulder.

The scattered disciples nearby gradually gathered into a larger crowd, and a buzz of discussion spread.

"Blaze??? Is it really Blaze??"

"Congratulations, Senior Brother Jiang!"

"Oh my god, he actually managed to obtain Blaze? That’s incredible!"

Once again, Jiang Ziliu found himself surrounded by a crowd, the center of everyone’s envious gaze. He felt almost lightheaded with euphoria, floating on a cloud. He acknowledged with nods to those congratulating him, accepting their praises without modesty—after all, he had truly achieved it.

Standing once more at the pinnacle, he shot a contemptuous look toward Lu Shitu not far away, only to find that Lu Shitu remained exactly as before—calm and unperturbed, standing quietly to the side.

Jiang Ziliu's temper flared, and he shot Lu Shitu an unfriendly smile. "Could it be that Senior Brother Lu has also come seeking a sword? Too bad for you—Blaze is mine now."

All eyes turned to Lu Shitu at these words. The crowd gradually fell silent, their gazes filled with a mix of sympathy, mockery, and indifference. Everyone waited for his response.

Ever since the conflict between Lu Shitu and Jiang Ziliu during the Qingxu Peak trial, the surrounding disciples had naturally begun comparing the two. Though Jiang Ziliu may have been at a disadvantage before, this time, his victory was nothing short of spectacular.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Lu Shitu spoke calmly, his expression unchanged. "Blaze is an excellent sword. Congratulations, Junior Brother Jiang."

Once again, Jiang Ziliu felt as though he had punched a pillow—his provocation had no effect, and he gained no sense of accomplishment from it.

This time, however, Jiang Ziliu remained composed, merely letting out a cold laugh. "Then Senior Brother Lu should hurry. The Immortal Sword Secret Realm is about to close."

Pretending to be calm, are you? Just wait until you leave empty-handed—we’ll see how you like that then!

Author's Note: The ranking list update is tomorrow! So tomorrow’s chapter will be posted at 10 PM, and there will be two updates. Thank you for your understanding, qwq. After that, updates will resume at 6 AM as usual.