Inside the Heaven-grade Stone Garden, sword qi surged to the heavens. That small black sword, barely an inch in length, vibrated with an incessant metallic ringing, its killing intent boundless.
Compared to ordinary weapons, it was truly diminutive — almost negligible in size — yet its imposing might was soul-stirring.
The dark radiance pierced through clouds, cold and ruthlessly lethal, instilling fear down to the very marrow of one’s bones. Even one’s soul trembled; both body and spirit recoiled in dread.
Several elder figures moved in unison, suppressing and enveloping the dark radiance, causing it to contract from the sky. Yet the small black sword continued to thrash about, desperately trying to break free.
Zheng!
It transformed into a streak of dark light, piercing through a precious stone in a single thrust before striking the barrier of light that the old Daoist nun had erected.
The old Daoist nun’s fingers were like jade as she pressed down upon empty space. The space locked down; stillness fell in all four directions. A divine might of the Dao surged forth, crashing down in an instant.
Dang!
An elder flicked his fingers in rapid succession. Over a hundred divine rays struck the small black sword, causing it to shudder. It transformed into a streak of dark radiance and shot back in reverse.
Chi!
Dark light flashed, its keen edge blinding. It actually came shooting toward the crowd. Such a terrifying weapon, of absolutely limitless power — several elders changed their expressions and moved to intercept at once.
Qiang!
More than a dozen elders struck simultaneously, each landing a finger blow on the small black sword. It shook violently, and its radiance finally dimmed.
“The nine-aperture stone figure has been cut, and the resentful energy is indeed tremendous. We must exert more effort to dispel its remnant will!”
Only then would this small black sword return to its normal state. Right now, it was completely a fierce weapon, very likely capable of injuring people.
Were it not for the old Daoist nun’s presence here, along with so many senior figures sealing off the stone garden, this place would surely have become a site of bloodshed.
The small black sword’s imposing might was immense. It was interwoven with Dao and principle, and was forged from dragon-patterned black gold — one could say nothing could withstand it, its edge nearly impossible to deflect.
Zheng zheng zheng!
The dragon-patterned black gold sword vibrated, dark radiance shooting out in all directions like bolts of lightning, interwoven into a terrifying field of black crackling energy, with a momentum that seemed capable of shattering heaven and earth.
Li Heishui’s heart was startled. He said, “This is terrifying. Even cutting stone is dangerous. If you’re carelessly pierced through by it, even the most peerless of rare treasures would be rendered an illusion.”
The young lord of the Celestial Demon Palace, Yao Yue Kong, exclaimed in admiration, “A dragon-patterned black gold sword — this is a world-rare treasure of absolute inestimable value.”
The imperial prince of Great Xia gazed with fervent eyes. “Both of you, my brothers — would you consider selling it to me? I would give you a satisfying price.”
Ye Fan shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it yet. Perhaps I’ll keep it for my own use.”
It wasn’t that he couldn’t sell it, but doing so right now was impossible. Quite a few people had sent him voice transmissions moments ago, so he could not sell it now.
Yao Yue Kong’s eyes too were burning with desire. “This is a weapon forged from a sacred object. Though the material is scant and it falls far short of being a pinnacle sacred weapon, it is still exceptionally rare — it could be auctioned off at an astronomical price.”
Hong!
The stone garden shuddered. Once these elders truly made their move, even the dragon-patterned black gold sword born from the stone figure could not maintain its fierce dominance; it was ultimately sealed.
The reason it had been so impossibly sharp was primarily because the Dao and principle it had naturally interwoven were now unleashing their might under the influence of the resentful energy — equivalent to a fragment of incomplete law power.
The elders did not stop there. Each pointed out a finger, shooting divine rays forth, sending bolt after bolt of lightning down to envelop the small black sword.
This amounted to a kind of baptism. With a soft chi, the resentful energy was shattered and fully refined away. The small black sword lost control of its fierce will, and the dark radiance finally became completely internalized.
Ding!
The dragon-patterned black gold sword fell to the ground, piercing through a precious stone. Its material was singular — a sacred object — and it was extraordinarily heavy. It actually sank into the ground.
Ye Fan quickly stepped forward. His right hand swept out with fluid, uncanny dexterity, drawing the small black sword upward. It transformed into a streak of dark light and appeared in his palm.
Though less than an inch in length, it was dense and heavy — a thousand times heavier than ordinary refined iron of the same size. So small and short, yet it weighed well over a hundred catties.
When it had resided within the brow of the nine-aperture stone figure, it had not felt heavy at all — nothing unusual could be sensed. Only after it truly entered the world did its weight become apparent.
“Truly worthy of a weapon interwoven with Dao and principle — to have such a wondrous change.”
After subduing the dragon-patterned black gold sword, a brief silence fell. Then the stone garden erupted into clamor all at once, as a crowd of old figures surrounded Ye Fan.
“Young friend, sell this sword to me — thirteen thousand catties of source!”
“Sell it to me — fifteen thousand catties of source!”
“This old man needs it — eighteen thousand catties of source!”
…
These individuals opened their mouths with offers of tens of thousands of catties of source at a time. Many eyes were blazing hot. In this moment, outside the stone garden, a crowd of cultivators watched in envious and jealous fervor.
Two cuts producing peerless rare treasures — both at astronomical prices. Many eyes had gone green with envy, staring over like wolves, wishing they could pounce over and snatch them away.
This dragon-patterned black gold sword, interwoven with Dao and principle, was absolutely the favorite of elder-generation figures — of inestimable worth.
Of course, it also had a fatal flaw: it was truly too small. It could only be measured in terms of individual pieces, and compared to a normal weapon it was like a tiny sesame seed.
Many great figures, when refining their magical treasures, would smelt entire iron peaks or several great mountains at a time, with materials measured in tens of thousands of catties.
Its preciousness lay in the fact that it had interwoven its own partial laws, and its material was a sacred object. Despite its diminutive size, it still qualified as a peerless rare treasure.
“Honored seniors, let me think it over myself!” Ye Fan could not afford to offend a single one of these old figures.
The dragon-patterned black gold sword was just over half an inch in length, jet black throughout with flecks of crystalline luster. It sat perfectly still in his palm, covered in dragon-shaped veining patterns — profound and natural. These were innately grown great Dao dragon patterns, which also gave rise to its name.
The more Ye Fan looked at it, the more he liked it. He felt that if harnessed with powerful divine sense, it would be absolutely invincible, greatly enhancing his combat power.
However, having cut out such a rare treasure before so many people, keeping it for himself would likely bring great trouble — a headache indeed.
Come to think of it, he already had quite a few treasures in hand. What mattered most right now was collecting source to advance his cultivation.
“Let me take a look,” said the young nun of Great Xia, revealing a hopeful expression.
Ye Fan handed it to her. The white-robed little nun cradled it in her palm, her large eyes blinking and blinking, utterly unable to look away.
“Little brother, sell it to us.” The imperial prince of Great Xia spoke again, wanting to purchase the sword. “My younger sister likes it so much — as her elder brother, I wish to give it to her as a gift.”
“This old man of mine likes it too, and no one gives me gifts, so I can only buy it for myself,” quipped a nearby elder.
“Indeed — being old fellows, we can only buy things for ourselves. Young friend, do you think eighteen thousand catties of source is enough for you to part with it?”
The white-robed little nun returned the small black sword to Ye Fan with great reluctance, her large eyes continuing to glance at it, unable to look away.
Yao Yue Kong in his purple robes smiled and spoke up. “Little brother, you needn’t trouble yourself over who to sell it to. Why not simply put it up for auction at our Celestial Demon Treasure Pavilion?”
Ye Fan was surrounded on all sides, making it difficult to extricate himself. Just then, the refined and elegant Jiang Yifei entered the garden. After paying his respects to the old Daoist nun, he also stepped forward, wishing to purchase the sword.
At the same moment, An Miaoyi arrived with light steps, a fragrance like orchid and musk drifting about her. Her eyes were rippling like water, her smile charming and lovely. Though she said little, her intention to obtain the sword was clear.
Li Heishui squeezed his way in with great effort. “Everyone,” he said, “you all know the origins of this sword well. It is the weapon of slaughter belonging to a future sacred spirit — born from the nine-aperture stone figure. This is a sacred sword born of heaven and earth!”
Everyone could not help but marvel. Creation was so miraculous: a dragon-patterned black gold sacred object, born naturally within the brow of the nine-aperture stone figure, transforming into a sacred sword.
All of this was too fantastical, shocking — truly beyond belief.
Ye Fan smiled. “Honored seniors, let me think it over carefully. In any case, I won’t be leaving Shen City anytime soon. When the time comes, I’ll give you all a satisfying answer.”
Throughout everything, the most composed was the young female Daoist from the Dao Yi Holy Land. Having received the spiritual essence of heaven and earth, she stood at a distance, her eyes undisturbed and serene, utterly unhurried.
Ye Fan gathered up the large pile of source stones on the ground. Light shimmered — a dazzling crystalline expanse. It was a tremendous harvest; he had gained another fifty thousand catties of source.
Those who had gambled against him went pale one by one, drained of all color. Wu Ziming and the others in particular felt the urge to kill — they felt thoroughly swindled, as though they had walked into a trap laid specifically for them.
“You two are ruthless!”
“Say I’m dark again and I’ll argue with you.” Li Heishui teased. “Just a moment ago you were mocking and ridiculing us. How do you feel now? To borrow the very words you used to laugh at us: you’ve plummeted from the ninth heaven straight down to the ground — and to add one more line, you landed face first.”
“You…”
Wu Ziming and the others trembled with rage but could not act out. Ye Fan’s mastery of source arts was now remarkable, and he stood at the center of the crowd like the moon surrounded by stars — including figures such as An Miaoyi and Yao Yue Kong, to say nothing of those elders with formidable backgrounds. They had no desire to provoke trouble.
Having first cut out a divine medicine, then a sacred sword from the nine-aperture stone figure, Ye Fan had now naturally become the most sought-after figure around. Many people wanted to befriend him.
There was no shortage of people with this idea — to become close with a source art genius would surely bring great benefits in the future.
“Brothers, I’ve already reserved a banquet at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. We’re not leaving sober today.” The imperial prince of Great Xia sent a covert voice transmission.
This had been agreed upon in advance. Ye Fan did not refuse and accepted.
“Today calls for celebration.” Yao Yue Kong smiled. He shared the same thought, and had mentioned it earlier as well.
“Before that, I must go settle a debt.” Ye Fan walked forward, approached the source master and the old Daoist nun, and placed ninety thousand catties of source on the ground.
The nine-aperture stone figure had cost an astronomical price. Had the dragon-patterned black gold sacred sword not been cut out, it would have been a devastating loss.
Not far away, Li Yishui, the Supreme Elder of the Phantom Annihilation Palace, was so furious he nearly vomited blood. This was effectively him paying the bill. Having been swindled so thoroughly — in the most literal sense, having practically delivered source of his own accord — how was he to bear such humiliation?
“Today, we must have a thorough discussion about source arts.” The prince and princess said, with his younger sister accompanying him nearby.
“Miaoyi has prepared a fine feast with good wine as tribute. I wonder if little brother has any free time?” An Miaoyi suddenly smiled and transmitted the message.
This woman, the most beautiful in the Eastern Wastelands, captivated the heart with every expression and smile. To receive her invitation was something countless people could only dream of. She waited quietly for Ye Fan’s response. Were this to spread, it would surely fill many men in Shen City with admiration and envy.
Jiang Yifei stood in his pristine white robes, poised as a jade tree in the wind, his smile infectiously warm. He did not approach directly, but instead addressed Li Heishui, wishing to invite both of them.
Nearby, quite a few elders also extended an olive branch to Ye Fan outright. What they valued was not merely the dragon-patterned black gold sacred sword — they valued his mastery of source arts even more.
Those who harbored such thoughts were naturally numerous. To befriend a source art genius would bring great advantages in the future.