It is not until dawn before the spell of the proto-formation ends and the two sword cultivators lie on the ground, breathing heavily. Their expressions have all the tell-tale signs of mental confusion, but also awe and surprise as if they are aware of what happened during their trance.

To be precise, the proto-formation lost its power two hours earlier when they exhausted their Qi and could no longer power its enlightening features. Whether they were still in a state of martial trance or continuing their spar until physical exhaustion is not entirely clear.

But the moment the dawn reached them, the Ancient Sword Graveyard did return to a hibernating, stand-by mode. I wonder what it is exactly about the time of day that has such an effect on this formation. To me, this system is a marvel and worth studying, but in my current state and with my current knowledge, I cannot even begin to unravel its mysteries or optimize its functions.

They lie on the ground next to each other, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders. Cultivators can recover quickly, but something like this — with so much exertion — is not a simple matter to overcome or quickly.

It wouldn’t surprise me if it even shortened their lifespan, but this hypothesis is only due to my own experience with the rather commonplace event of my lifespan being shortened for seemingly irrelevant reasons.

Wu Yulan is the first to speak, but not before she groans and tries to shift her position slightly, only to have her aching bones and muscles remind her that her current position in her inertial reference point is the one most convenient for her continued existence.

“Was that a dream?” she asks, but her tone suggests she already knows the answer. She is happy. There are glimmers of tears in her eyes which suggests that this happiness is not of the ordinary kind, but something that is a formative experience in her life.

Lan Xiaohui also tries to move, perhaps to look at her companion, but she also finds out very quickly that beyond the numbness in her physical structure, there is only pain and fatigue.

“I don’t think so,” she says. My owner has far more experience with life-changing events than her companion, but even she is not immune to this. Her heart swells with pride and joy, not because of the benefits she has gained, but because this is the kind of pride and joy she has never felt before.

To Lan Xiaohui, cultivating the sword has always been for two reasons — at least in her new life. To kill Yu Shun, and then to seek the Dao with me and become immortal.

In the short time that we have spent together, she has slain countless creatures and even other cultivators, but she has never experienced the joy of crossing swords with an equal and enjoying it.

I understand it because I am the same as them. The experience of putting forward that one thing that defines an entity and having it be deemed worthwhile is exhilarating and fulfilling. As it is for me to become the perfect tool; so it is for Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan to become the perfect sword cultivators.

“We really received an Inheritance?” Wu Yulan asks, her voice low as if to not intimidate the reality of what happened, and potentially scare it away.

Lan Xiaohui chuckles, a mild glimmer of disbelief in her own heart, and then nods. “We did.”

I wonder if receiving an inheritance is really such a special occasion. This [Transient Sword] cannot compare to the [Fractured Sword] that I taught to Lan Xiaohui, and with enough blood points, I could create countless more wonders that would make [Transient Sword] seem like a waste of energy.

To begin with, the inheritance does not contain any offensive or defensive techniques.

At its core, [Transient Sword] is the martial art of forcing the sword into a state of sword Qi and sword energy and dispersing it over a large area. The first layer of the martial art contains three techniques: [Law of Transience] which allows one to create and control copies of a sword; [Law of Emergence] which allows for the ability to exert the sword’s force at any point within line of sight; and [Law of Ever-changing] which controls the intrinsic ability of the martial art to transmute the sword’s matter into Qi and energy, and it has some limitations.

First of all, a sword can never become fully immaterial and a small part of it must exist in some way, somewhere; the [Law of Ever-changing] thus also allows for limited shape-shifting.

Furthermore, an object must already possess a significantly spiritual body to use the method effectively and is thus suited for cultivators with a deeper cultivation realm and, most importantly, with high-grade Heavenly Treasures that have a profound Physique or body cultivation.

Wu Yulan’s sword, in this regard, is not simple either, but I do not detect any sort of consciousness within it.

“I only received one half of it,” Wu Yulan says, her tone suggesting an unspoken question.

“I think I received the other half,” Lan Xiaohui says. “I could not attack from afar like you did.”

Wu Yulan smiles and nods. “I am glad,” she says. “It should be this way.”

Lan Xiaohui also smiles, her weak hum of happiness quickly turning into a groan as her lungs protest at this misuse of her organs.

It takes me a moment to understand what Lan Xiaohui seems to understand about Wu Yulan’s sentiment, but I deduce that it must be related to their friendship. Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui must perceive the fact that they each learned a unique half of the inheritance to mean that they have a destined bond — that one is incomplete without the other.

“I am still amazed at how incredible you are,” Wu Yulan says. “You even comprehended Sword Law.”

Lan Xiaohui chuckles and just barely manages to move her neck enough to tilt her head toward Wu Yulan. “You also comprehended it. And your sword Qi is so pure and powerful, it is amazing,” she says. “How did you accomplish that?”

Naturally, my owner — the deviant genius that she is — cannot help but desire to know the method that she will use to improve her own sword Qi.

Wu Yulan shrugs with some great difficulty. “Jade carving,” she says.

“Jade carving?” Lan Xiaohui repeats with a querying tone.

“Yes,” Wu Yulan confirms. “I carved jade with my sword Qi.”

Lan Xiaohui blinks, seems to think about it for a moment, and then realizes something. “How long have you been carving jade?”

Wu Yulan smiles. “Since I was a child. Uncle Zhu Ye taught me.”

“You comprehended sword Qi when you were a child?” This seems to be the most shocking revelation.

Wu Yulan nods. “Mmm.”

Wu Yulan may not be interested in martial arts or cultivation, but it is undeniable now that she was born to follow the path of the sword. It is no coincidence that Lady Yue is interested in this person, or that she has managed to climb all fourteen floors of the Pagoda of Introspection.

It is most likely that Wu Yulan does not realize this, but her entire life, in her own way, she has likely been walking the path of a sword cultivator — from her isolation to her dismissive nature of practicing martial arts.

Wu Yulan is also a genius and prodigy the likes of which even Lan Xiaohui cannot compare to. My owner’s talent is in battle and improvement; Wu Yulan’s is in the very basics and extreme comprehension attributes.

“What do we do now?” Wu Yulan asks.

Lan Xiaohui smiles. “We should continue practicing,” she says. “I want to show you Yaoyue’s inner world.”

“Yaoyue?” Wu Yulan asks. “Your sword?”

Lan Xiaohui nods.

“Your sword has already formed an inner world? That is amazing,” Wu Yulan says, her eyes wide with genuine awe.

With pleasure, I gloat to myself, silently, at this entirely genuine admission of my excellence.

“Time also flows differently inside. We can practice for a lot longer than a few days,” Lan Xiaohui says.

With extreme dissatisfaction, I regret this entirely accurate assessment of my abilities that suggests Lan Xiaohui is not only aware of the variable time dilation of my inner world but also intends to use it and burn all of my Inner World Energy on a practice session.

WeaverofFables

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