This High Martial World is Too Crazy!!!

Chapter 304 -301: Ziling and Nurturing the Sword

‘Huh, why’d this sword go soft?’

Inside the Sword Tomb, Fang Can had unleashed the full power of his Gloomy Soul-Devouring Palm. The purple sword stiffened for a moment, then fell silent.

After all, not even Yan Chqing, a Fourth Turn practitioner, could withstand his sneak attack.

How could a mere Fourth Turn Sacrificial Artifact with Spirit Communication possibly resist?

Once it stopped resisting, Fang Can gently pulled the purple sword from the white stone block.

But he immediately saw that under the pull of gravity, the entire blade bent slightly downward. It was a Soft Sword, as thin as a butterfly’s wing.

He gave it a couple of gentle shakes. The tip quivered, humming like a spirit snake flicking its tongue. Fang Can directly infused it with his AT field, forcing the blade straight.

He reached out and flicked the blade, his fingertip producing a clear, trembling ring.

Gently stroking the smooth surface with the pad of his finger, a flicker of satisfaction appeared in Fang Can’s eyes. It was indeed a fine sword.

With no matching scabbard on hand, Fang Can gave the Soft Sword a flick, wrapping it around his waist. Held in place by his force field, it transformed into a snug, light purple belt.

Gazing at the various swords buried all around, Fang Can, having already chosen his ideal blade, didn’t linger. He strode out of the Sword Tomb.

But as he reached the entrance, he could still faintly hear the soft hum of the dozen or so swords he had connected with earlier.

“It seems you’ve made your choice.”

When Liu Qingmeng saw Fang Can emerge, her gaze lingered on his figure before finally settling on the shimmering, purple-patterned belt. A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

“I never thought you’d be the one to choose Ziling. That was the personal sword of the second-generation Sect Ancestor.”

“Does this sword have any special effects?” Fang Can asked.

“You don’t know?” Liu Qingmeng looked at the clueless young man with a touch of bewildered surprise.

“Since the sword chose you, you two should have a spiritual connection. You ought to have some inkling of Ziling’s effects.”

Behind his mask, Fang Can’s expression grew a little awkward.

‘What spiritual connection? I just used my AT field to force it into submission.’

“Ziling’s effect is ‘Infinite Reach.’ Its attacks ignore distance.”

“Whether it’s one meter or ten thousand meters, as long as you can observe your target, you can strike it.”

Hearing Liu Qingmeng’s words, Fang Can drew Ziling from his waist. His force field, taking the place of his eyes, extended outward in a needle-like projection.

Focusing on the yellow earth supporting an ancient tree dozens of meters away, Fang Can made a light slash with Ziling.

With a HISS, a fine sword mark appeared in the distant soil.

“It can harm anything you can observe, regardless of space or distance. The only limitation is the target’s Heart Image. When fighting someone of the same Realm, you must break through their Heart Image to land a hit.”

Liu Qingmeng had naturally studied the personal swords of the past Sect Ancestors. She had already chosen her target before ever entering the Sword Tomb to select her own blade.

‘A decent weapon,’ Fang Can thought, growing even more pleased with his choice.

Seeing the young man’s spirited expression, Liu Qingmeng continued to advise him, “For us on Jiejian Mountain, a sword is a second life.”

“Divine swords undergo Spirit Communication. A Fourth Turn blade already possesses a mind comparable to that of a small beast.”

“Though you are not a Disciple of my sect, you must still take good care of Ziling. Don’t mistreat it. It’s best to spend time maintaining it every day.”

“How do I maintain it?”

“Infuse the blade with your Heart Image every day. Combat will inevitably cause wear and tear, and a Sacrificial Artifact can absorb your infused Heart Image to repair itself,” Liu Qingmeng explained simply.

Fang Can nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the Purple Rhombus Sword in his hand, which had been completely still ever since he’d hit it with the Gloomy Soul-Devouring Palm.

“If you have nothing else to attend to, you should stay here on Jiejian Mountain for the next few days. The opening of the Sixth Turn secret realm is just around the corner. I will call for you when the time comes.”

“If there’s nothing important, just stay quietly in the lodge arranged for you. Don’t wander around and cause trouble.”

As they spoke, the two of them walked out of the main hall.

Liu Qingmeng raised a delicate hand and pointed to a small lodge made of bamboo and stone beside a distant lake. It was a place Jiejian Mountain had built to accommodate guests.

After bidding farewell to Liu Qingmeng, Fang Can went to the lodge. He leaned back against the bed curtains, looking at the Purple Rhombus Sword in his hand.

Following Liu Qingmeng’s instructions, Fang Can slowly infused his Heart Image into the blade. The Heart Image felt like a third arm, moving all around the purple sword, carefully sensing every groove and pattern as it filled with power.

As he stroked the purple patterns with the pad of his finger, Fang Can discovered that the previously motionless Ziling Soft Sword was now gradually regaining consciousness.

The blade coiled around his arm like a spirit snake, circle by circle. It was clearly expressing its shame and anger at Fang Can’s earlier rough treatment, seemingly ready to slice and dice his hand at any moment.

Feeling a stinging pain from his arm, Fang Can had no choice but to silently convert his Heart Image into its second-stage force field.

In an instant, Ziling’s blade, which had just been showing faint hostility, went completely rigid. It then began to tremble in waves, like ripples on water.

After a few breaths, it recovered, and the purple sword bristled again, lunging at Fang Can. He barely dodged it with a tilt of his head.

“You little rascal, wouldn’t it be better to just let me use you obediently?” Fang Can sent the message with his Heart Image, a little annoyed.

Sensing the sword’s spinosaurus-like aggression, Fang Can decided not to coddle it.

The next instant, his Heart Image surged into the blade in wave after wave, carefully controlled to ensure the Purple Rhombus Sword wouldn’t pass out from too much power, but would feel the discomfort even more intensely.

BZZZZZZZZT…

The bee-like humming of the blade’s vibrations continued for the time it takes an incense stick to burn before Fang Can finally disconnected the force field.

Sensing the exhausted yet excited state transmitted by the Sword Spirit, Fang Can communicated via his Heart Image:

“From now on, you’d better behave yourself. Just play the part of a good sword, and I won’t have to force you.”

After waiting a moment and sensing the meaning the Sword Spirit sent back, Fang Can’s expression gradually turned strange.

“You want me to feed you by infusing you with my Heart Image every day? You’re not some kind of… bratty little masochist, are you?”

Fang Can didn’t voice the rest of his thoughts, afraid the Purple Rhombus Sword would get triggered again. Besides, it was just a matter of infusing it with his Heart Image. He had plenty to spare, so he readily agreed.

With the deal struck, Fang Can felt the Purple Rhombus Sword lying across his lap, no longer acting up and as still as an inanimate object. He casually wrapped it around his waist.

Everything back in Great Derivation was already settled. He would just let Boss Ji handle the rest.

With the upcoming opening of the Sixth Turn secret realm, basically all the ambitious practitioners at the Fourth Turn Realm would be entering it.

The various nations would be drained of their top experts, leaving them unable to cause any trouble or threaten the safety of Ji Donglai and the others.

‘I just don’t know how many months it’ll be before I can return,’ Fang Can mused.

The Sixth Turn secret realm connected to another universe, one that was outside the range of his two-world travel ability and not part of the mortal world. A completely new world awaited him.

Gradually clearing his mind, his consciousness sank back into his sea of consciousness. Fang Can picked up his pen and continued to record the day’s events in his mind.

Lately, he had been writing much less—only a few tens of thousands of words over the past several days. It seemed his self-reflection was progressing; those distracting thoughts that disturbed his peace of mind had indeed almost vanished.