The Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus, the Light Cloud of Origin Mysteries, the Mysteries of Swordsmanship, the Sword Ancestor’s Sword Soul, the Heavenly Sword Spirit, the ultimate rules of swordsmanship, the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill, sixty-eighth level mental strength, the presence of divine swords, and the perfection of swordsmanship at the Saint King realm.
These ten conditions, even if other Great Saints of the Hundred-Shackle Realm possessed just one or two, would allow them to condense a top-tier fourth-grade swordsmanship saint intent.
Zhang Ruochen, possessing all ten, could only strive for a sliver of a chance to condense a third-grade swordsmanship mystery.
The difference of a single grade in saint intent is a world apart.
From ancient times to now, only he, at the Hundred-Shackle Realm, could achieve this, blessed with such perfect timing, location, human harmony, and external aids.
Zhang Ruochen meditated for an unknown time, believing he had reached his optimal state. With a thought, he declared, “Unite!”
Streams of swordsmanship rules converged.
At their centre, a gaseous sword slowly took shape.
This sword was flawless, with the proportions of its body, edge, tip, and hilt perfectly balanced, as if crafted by the creator as the ultimate work of art.
Every line of the sword aligned with the Heavenly Way, as if it could slip through space or meld into time.
Saint intent is profoundly mysterious, representing a cultivator’s insight into a path, capable of being formless or manifesting tangibly.
At this moment, Zhang Ruochen’s swordsmanship saint intent took the form of a sword, exuding an aura of “invincible under heaven, supreme above all.”
The six divine swords sensed the imminent formation of an ultimate swordsmanship saint intent, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
“Such a powerful swordsmanship saint intent, the mere force it stirs in the world can shake my body. I weigh as much as a star, incredibly heavy,” one sword remarked.
“He’s truly exceptional. Look, in this space, a phenomenon of ten thousand swords paying homage has appeared,” another observed.
Under the blood moon, in the dark red space, thousands of sword-shaped qi automatically formed, turning the entire area into a sea of swords.
Bai Qing’er, witnessing this spectacle and hearing the ceaseless sound of sword qi slicing through the air, her delicate face tensed. “Could he actually succeed?”
If Zhang Ruochen successfully condensed a third-grade swordsmanship saint intent and gained control of the six divine swords, his first act might be to wield them against her.
Then, she might have to use the favour Zhang Ruochen owed her to beg for her life.
But would Bai Qing’er ever stoop so low? She would rather die than wait helplessly.
The sword-shaped saint intent grew increasingly solid, its radiance ever brighter, but Zhang Ruochen sighed and dispersed it.
It was not perfect, missing a fraction.
That fraction, unbridgeable, forced him to let it go.
This method had failed.
The phenomenon of ten thousand swords paying homage collapsed.
Bai Qing’er exhaled slightly, a smile gracing her enchanting face. If Zhang Ruochen failed to condense a third-grade saint intent, no matter how unwilling, he would have to cooperate with her.
Give her his blood, aid her recovery, and help her break through.
Zhang Ruochen’s state of mind gradually calmed, returning to a state of emptiness.
“What is the strongest swordsmanship?”
“What is the perfect swordsmanship saint intent?”
“What is the meaning of the sword?”
His heart questioned repeatedly.
Unknowingly, the swordsmanship saint intent began to form, growing from within him, expanding larger.
It took human form.
At that moment, not only did the space within the altar manifest phenomena, but the entire Origin Temple ruins and the whole Sword South Realm saw strands of strange, ancient power converging towards Zhang Ruochen, merging into the human-shaped swordsmanship saint intent, over ten miles tall.
The human-shaped saint intent’s form became clear, resembling the Sword Ancestor Zhang Ruochen had seen in the ancient well of Sword Mountain.
It was as if the Sword Ancestor had been reborn, exuding an aura of unrivalled dominance.
The six divine swords felt a strong sense of familiarity, yearning to fly into the giant figure’s hand, to fight alongside him, slaying all foes.
“This is the ultimate swordsmanship aura!”
“The world’s strongest swordsmanship saint intent is born!”
“With such a saint intent, how can we not acknowledge him as our master?”
The six divine swords were ecstatic, forgetting their original minimum standards.
Yet, the Sword Ancestor-shaped saint intent collapsed, dissolving into scattered swordsmanship rules.
All phenomena vanished again.
“What happened? Did it fail?”
“No, I clearly felt it was about to form, absorbing the lingering swordsmanship aura of the Sword Ancestor. How could it fail so suddenly?”
Zhang Ruochen, seated at the centre of the Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus, shook his head lightly. “Still not perfect. Such a saint intent is merely retracing the Sword Ancestor’s path, never surpassing his achievements.”
In the unique environment of the Emperor-Grade Saint Intent Pill, the Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus, and the Light Cloud of Origin Mysteries, Zhang Ruochen’s thoughts were unprecedentedly clear.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up, grasping a key point. He murmured, “The Sword Ancestor represents a peak of swordsmanship, not its end.”
“The sword is merely a tool, not the path.”
“Condensing saint intent is not the ultimate fruit of swordsmanship.”
“Yes, that’s the misconception.”
“All sword cultivators see condensing swordsmanship saint intent as the result, believing it determines the future of swordsmanship.”
“But in truth, condensing swordsmanship saint intent is just the start of a long journey. Ahead lies the peak of the Sword God, and the greater peak of the Sword Ancestor.”
“That’s right. I’m not pursuing the result of swordsmanship now; I’m still on the endless path of seeking.”
“The swordsmanship saint intent should be a beginning, not fixed here.”
Muttering to himself, Zhang Ruochen stood and stepped out of the Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus.
Swordsmanship rules formed a path beneath his feet.
A straight path.
This path stretched endlessly, leading to infinite space, eternal time, as if it would never reach an end.
The Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus transformed into Ji Fanxin’s crystalline form, standing in the chaotic origin, watching Zhang Ruochen walk the straight path. He seemed close, yet as if he had walked billions of miles away, centuries into the future.
After an unknown time, Zhang Ruochen glanced at the path beneath him.
When not looking, it was an endless road.
But when he looked, it became a pillar of light before him, its top seemingly unreachable.
Unseen, it was a road; seen, it was a pillar.
Horizontal or vertical?
Road or pillar?
Suddenly, Zhang Ruochen laughed loudly. “Today, I achieve the third-grade swordsmanship saint intent, named ‘One’.”
The hardest thing in the world is “One,” symbolising flawless perfection and the origin of all things.
It represents the true self, purity, the unyielding and righteous nature of swordsmanship.
It signifies moving forward without hesitation, and being unique.
It represents the endless road of swordsmanship he will never complete, and the peak he will climb his entire life.
Horizontal is one, vertical is one.
Every sword is one.
With a resounding boom, at the centre of the six divine swords, within the Light Cloud of Origin Mysteries, Zhang Ruochen, previously a speck of light, materialised, standing upright, hair flowing.
A pillar of light burst from his body, shooting through his head and feet.
The light piercing his head struck the centre of the blood moon.
With a bang, the blood moon shattered, the blood mist around the six divine swords vanished. The swords rejoiced, cutting through the black qi surging from below, regaining their freedom.
Swishing through the air, the six swords danced, trailing six fiery streaks, their sound like thunder.
“He succeeded, condensing the third-grade swordsmanship mystery.”
“I knew he would succeed. From the moment I saw him, I knew he was extraordinary.”
Then, a change occurred.
The Light Cloud of Origin Mysteries, which had previously rejected Zhang Ruochen, now surged relentlessly into his body.
At first, Zhang Ruochen was overjoyed, thinking he had earned its recognition.
But as more origin mysteries poured in, he could no longer bear it.
Mysteries are powers meant for gods.
Saint-realm cultivators can wield them, but too much would destroy them.
The origin mysteries, lacking intelligence, did not know Zhang Ruochen’s limits, flooding into him endlessly, impossible to refuse.
When he acquired the Heart of Truth, the Master of the Truth Temple told him that without it, even the strongest could only handle one-tenth of the truth mysteries.
As an eternal path, the origin mysteries must have a limit for cultivators. Though unsure if it was one-tenth, Zhang Ruochen was on the verge of collapse, his saint soul about to burst, his body about to explode, his mental strength about to dissolve.
How tragic!
From ecstasy to despair.
Having just condensed a third-grade swordsmanship saint intent, would he now die from the overflow of origin mysteries?
Such a death filled Zhang Ruochen with unwillingness.
Ji Fanxin transformed back into the Ancient Nether Illumination Lotus, appearing beneath him, transmitting, “Give it to me.”
“Alright!” Zhang Ruochen sat cross-legged, exerting all his effort to channel the origin mysteries into the lotus.
Fortunately, born of origin, the lotus slowly absorbed the mysteries from his body. But the speed was too slow, and more mysteries poured into him.
“The chance has come!” Bai Qing’er’s eyes gleamed, her long-awaited moment arriving.
With a flash, she turned into a streak of light, flying towards the lotus.
A divine sword descended, blocking her path, its light mere inches from her.
“Stay away from our master!”
The other five swords arrived, surrounding Bai Qing’er.
Six waves of divine might pressed upon her, yet she remained unfazed. “Can’t you see your master is about to be overwhelmed by the origin mysteries? Only I can save him.”
“Why should we trust you?” one sword demanded.
From the lotus, Zhang Ruochen let out a pained roar, as if enduring inhuman agony.
Bai Qing’er said, “You have no choice but to trust me.”
The most intact sword, the eldest brother, said, “Let her pass. If our master falls here, we’ll make her pay with her life.”
As the six swords parted, Bai Qing’er’s graceful figure, like a fairy on the waves, landed in the lotus. She smirked inwardly, “Mere sword spirits, played into my hands. Zhang Ruochen, your blood and origin mysteries are mine!”
She resolved that once she absorbed his blood and recovered enough, she would break through to divinity.
As a god and master of origin, she could handle any amount of origin mysteries. Then, she would subdue the Earth Demon Sparrow’s spirit, claiming it, becoming the greatest victor of this Origin Temple journey.
But as she approached Zhang Ruochen, raising her hand to cut his wrist, she found herself unable to move, as if bound by countless threads.
“What’s happening, this power…” Bai Qing’er’s face paled, sensing danger.
“No need to guess, it’s the power of the origin mysteries,” Zhang Ruochen said.
With vast origin mysteries in his body, he could wield their power to suppress her.
A saint-realm cultivator with one percent of truth mysteries is a Truth Emissary, capable of facing gods.
The origin mysteries in Zhang Ruochen’s body far exceeded one percent.
At this life-or-death moment, he pulled Bai Qing’er close, pinning her beneath him.
Unable to move, she was like a cat beneath a hound.
Zhang Ruochen’s intense gaze met her almond eyes. “Want it?”
Her eyes showed no submission, staring coldly, utterly calm. “Why so much talk? Give it to me! I mean the origin mysteries.”
With a flash, Zhang Ruochen pressed a palm to her forehead, transferring the origin mysteries.
“Too slow! I fear you’ll die before you can transfer them. Isn’t yin-yang conversion the fastest way? Don’t you know how?” Bai Qing’er said.
Zhang Ruochen froze. “How does yin-yang conversion work?”
“You’ve pinned me down and ask me how? You, notorious villain, are you purer than me, a newcomer?” Bai Qing’er remained composed, her tone icy.
Zhang Ruochen never expected this supremely proud woman to say such words.
Bai Qing’er had her calculations. If she failed to reach divinity and Zhang Ruochen died from the mysteries, not only might the six swords not spare her, but she would leave without a trace of origin mysteries.
In that moment, her mind became clear.
Having lost the bet, what harm in marrying Zhang Ruochen?
If she was to marry him, anything between them now seemed acceptable.
Moreover, Zhang Ruochen had truly condensed a third-grade swordsmanship saint intent, earning her genuine admiration.
Seeing his prolonged silence, Bai Qing’er closed her beautiful eyes, her long, curved lashes trembling. Taking a deep breath, she arched her slender waist. “Fine, I’ll start.”
As she moved to rise, Zhang Ruochen pressed her back.
“Stay put. If that’s the case, we’ll do yin-yang conversion. Don’t regret it later.”
“I never regret my actions! Remember, have the one below take human form too, for yin-yang conversion…”
