Chapter 178: Awakening the Sword Spirit, Splendor Like the Setting Sun
Chapter 178 – Awakening the Sword Spirit, Splendor Like the Setting Sun
Swish!
Chen Shisan thrust his blade relentlessly, each desperate strike forcing the Zhao family guards to scramble back.
This advantage was not born from any profound mastery of swordsmanship.
Rather, it was entirely due to the broken sword in his grip, an artifact capable of cleaving solid iron as though it were soft mud.
However, no matter how impossibly sharp the blade proved to be, it could not overwrite the brutal truth that he had only practiced the sword for a single day.
Every wild swing forced his enemies to retreat, yet every swing also laid his defenses bare.
The price for these glaring openings was paid in blood, as fresh, jagged wounds bloomed across his flesh.
As the breaths ticked by, his movements grew sluggish, and the world before his eyes fractured into dizzying, overlapping phantoms.
The sheer, visceral brutality of the slaughter forced the surrounding wedding guests to avert their gazes in horror.
Yet, the heavy crimson curtain of the bridal palanquin did not ripple even once.
…
High above the mortal dust.
Slurp!
Having picked the roast chicken clean to the bone, Chen Changsheng was now loudly inhaling a bowl of noodles.
Observing this profound display of callousness, the typically mute System finally voiced its mechanical thoughts.
“Host, according to my deductions, the mortal you have chosen will draw his final breath in precisely ten counts.”
“To stand idly by while your chosen candidate dies is an entirely meaningless exertion of effort.”
Swallowing a mouthful of broth, Chen Changsheng casually wiped his chin.
“Who said I am standing idly by? Did I not lend him the True Martial Sword?”
“That is the personal weapon of the Emperor Zuo of the Xuanwu Kingdom. Slaughtering a few mortal thugs should be as effortless as flipping his palm.”
“Host, please cease this blatant sophistry.”
“The artifact spirit within the True Martial Sword is trapped in a profound slumber. The probability of a mere mortal awakening it is indistinguishable from zero.”
“In the parlance of mortals, you are simply watching him bleed to death.”
Unbothered, Chen Changsheng took another satisfying sip of his rich soup, casting his God-eye gaze downward.
“Indeed, I am watching him face his death. But simultaneously, I am waiting for him to tear a miracle from the jaws of fate.”
“Ever since it was shattered by the Desolate Ancient Forbidden Land, the True Martial Sword has been effectively ‘dead’.”
“For countless epochs, I have exhausted every heavenly method imaginable, yet the sword spirit remained utterly unresponsive.”
“If that dormant soul rouses itself for a gutter rat like Chen Shisan, then he alone is the architect of that miracle.”
“An absolute monarch like Wu Li bled out entirely upon the Road to Heaven. If Chen Shisan cannot manifest the impossible, what right does he have to tread the path Wu Li failed to conquer?”
“If he cannot eclipse Wu Li’s indomitable will, then it is far kinder if he perishes here today.”
“After all, the grave offers far less torment than the burdens of this world.”
…
Huff… Huff…
Chen Shisan dragged ragged breaths into his lungs. The frantic exertion forced a bone-deep, icy numbness to spread through his veins.
The creeping cold was the undeniable harbinger of catastrophic blood loss.
With every drop that stained the cobblestones, half of his soul crossed into the underworld.
The only pillar keeping his fractured body upright was a maddening, unyielding obsession that shackled his final breath to his chest.
Yet, he remained a mortal made of flesh and frail bone. The Potential that pure stubbornness could wring from a failing heart was agonizingly finite.
As his consciousness frayed, his spirit plunged into a suffocating, lightless void.
Suspended within that abyssal expanse drifted an ancient, unadorned longsword.
It possessed the exact silhouette of the shattered relic Chen Changsheng had bestowed upon him, save for one crucial detail: its blade was flawlessly whole.
A stark contrast to the ruined iron currently clutched in his bleeding fingers.
“Are you truly devoid of the fear of death?”
An ancient voice echoed from the unblemished steel, washing over his spirit.
Meeting the blade in the void, Chen Shisan answered without an ounce of pretense. “I am terrified!”
“If terror grips your heart, why did you march to the slaughter?”
“Your destiny dictates that the moment you raised your hand in defiance, your doom was sealed.”
“Did you blindly hope that he would descend from the clouds to save you?”
Though the sword offered no name, Chen Shisan knew precisely which maddening, coffin-selling immortal it referred to.
“I never once expected his salvation.”
“Then do you expect me to lend you my strength?”
“Whether you save me or abandon me holds no weight in my heart. I am only concerned with fulfilling my own duties.”
“Can you return me to my body?”
“I have promises to keep outside. I cannot afford to squander time conversing with a ghost.”
Struck by the raw, unpolished grit of the boy, the ancient sword fell into a heavy silence before vibrating once more.
“Will you bare your soul to witness my past?”
“It has been an eternity since I felt the warmth of a living consciousness.”
“Alright.”
Chen Shisan offered his consent without a sliver of hesitation, stepping across the void to press his spiritual palm against the pristine steel.
Thrum!
A torrential flood of primordial memories crashed into Chen Shisan’s fragile mind.
In a heartbeat, he lived through the grueling, magnificent eons of the True Martial Sword’s existence.
Forged in celestial fire as a Peerless divine weapon, it had carved paths through seas of blood alongside its master, reaping the souls of countless mighty enemies.
That glory held firm until the day a horror beyond comprehension—an existence that defied the very Dao—descended from the heavens.
That abyssal entity butchered its invincible master and cleanly snapped its indestructible steel spine.
“Do you comprehend the weight of my sorrow?”
“This is the entirety of my suffering. My shattering was an absolute decree of fate, just as your bleeding corpse is a certainty.”
“The path he intends for you is infinitely more harrowing than the road that killed my master.”
“Therefore, I offer you my apologies. I cannot lend you my strength.”
“For I am nothing but a severed blade, incapable of forging you into the apex of this world.”
Absorbing the monumental grief of an ancient weapon, Chen Shisan awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, a rare, sheepish warmth softening his rough features.
“You don’t need to apologize. Truthfully, just having you speak to me like this is more than enough.”
“He dragged countless prodigies before you to force an awakening, yet you ignored every last one.”
“I am nothing but a talentless gutter rat. For an ancient spirit to willingly initiate a conversation… I am profoundly content.”
“You are the third entity in this world to treat me as a person. I am genuinely happy.”
“But my time is truly running out. I have my own burdens to bear outside. Will you open the door?”
The moment his raspy words faded, a shimmering gateway of spiritual light materialized within the oppressive dark.
“Step through, and your soul shall return to your dying flesh.”
Hearing the prompt, Chen Shisan did not flinch. He raised his foot to cross the luminous threshold.
He marched forward with singular conviction, perfectly aware that he was stepping back into the jaws of a brutal death.
“Halt!”
The ancient sword vibrated fiercely, its voice arresting his right foot mid-stride.
“Is there something else?”
“How do you stare into the crushing maw of fate without bending your spine? Is it born purely of this desperate obsession?”
Pausing at the inquiry, Chen Shisan broke into a goofy, unpolished grin, scratching his messy hair.
“If that coffin-selling bastard asked me, I’d cross my arms, put on a cold face, and swear I’d rather snap than bow to heaven.”
“Why the facade?”
“He secretly values your potential far more than I do.”
“I know. But he’s slippery and totally unreliable. Honestly, I think he just enjoys torturing me for fun.”
“So, I absolutely refuse to stroke his ego. If I give him an inch, he’ll take a thousand miles.”
“Hah!”
For the first time in millennia, a genuine, ringing laugh emanated from the celestial steel.
“If that ancient monster ever discovered this truth, he would undoubtedly fly into a heaven-shaking rage.”
“Now, will you share the truest conviction buried within your Dao Heart?”
Tilting his head, Chen Shisan pondered the profound question before answering with rough simplicity.
“My world has always been small. It consists mostly of the drunken bastards at the Wan Hua Lou and a never-ending line of manure buckets.”
“The only beautiful things I get to see are the sunrise and the sunset.”
“When the sun crests the horizon, it is destined to eventually fall. Just as every man born of woman is absolutely guaranteed to die.”
“But even if my life is destined to plummet into the dark like the setting sun… even in that plunge, shouldn’t it blaze with a brilliant, blood-red splendor?”
“How can a man allow his soul to rot into dull, grey ash just because the end is already written?”
“I refuse to burn out as a pathetic, dim ember. That is why I do not fear the wheel of fate.”
“Fate has the authority to slaughter me. It has the right to drown me in agony. But it lacks the power to change who I am.”
Leaving those words hanging in the void, Chen Shisan turned his back and marched resolutely through the luminous gate, returning to the blood and the mud.
Staring at the boy’s frail, stubborn back, the ancient sword remained suspended in profound silence for a long age before whispering into the dark.
“Even in falling, it should blaze with a brilliant, blood-red splendor…”
“Chen Changsheng, you truly scoured the mortal dust and unearthed a spirit that even the Heavens cannot break.”
“Very well. Allow me the honor of forging his very first miracle.”
With a resounding, world-shaking chime, the pristine blade within the void detonated with an unparalleled, blinding radiance.