Chapter 22: Born to Kill, Seed of the Sword Immortal

The flying swords of Mount Shu had already reached the pinnacle of perfection. Every major sect boasted highly refined sword-forging traditions. Emei, Wutai, Wudang, Kunlun—all were the same. A top-tier flying sword required nine rounds of purification, using spiritual herbs in tandem with secret techniques to refine its spirit; this was called shaping. Beyond shaping, one had to embed restrictive seals to refine its quality, thus enhancing the sword’s very essence—again, nine rounds. After nine shapings, nine refinements of quality, and then a final synthesis of both, making a total of nineteen rounds, the sword would be able to shift between the tangible and intangible at will, akin to a Daoist’s primordial spirit, condensing into form or dispersing into energy. Only then could one forge a supreme flying sword.

Even in Mount Shu, such peerless swords were so rare they could be counted on one hand: the Violet-Green Twin Swords wielded by the Daoist Master Long-Brow that dominated the world, the Demon-Subduing Treasure of the Buddhist Patriarch Bodhidharma, the Southern Blaze Sword of Blazing Fire. The rest fell short by a measure.

Chen Yang, inheritor of the finest sword-crafting legacies of both Mount Wutai and Emei, naturally sought to forge a supreme flying sword himself. Though his mastery of Daoist and Demonic arts was profound beyond measure, in truth, most of his true power resided in a single sword. When the Patriarch of Primordial Unity met his calamity and the Wutai Sect vanished, it was thanks to the Azure Dragon Stirring the Sea Sword, forged with the patriarch’s aid, that Chen Yang repeatedly overcame formidable foes, even those whose cultivation and power surpassed his own, suffering severe losses at his blade.

Among them were the Bearded Immortal Li Yuanhua of Emei’s Seven Immortals of Luofu, the Wind and Fire Daoist Wu Yuanzhi, the Rainbow Across Ten Thousand Li Tong Yuanqi, and many other formidable opponents.

Having glanced over the catalog, he wondered if it was merely the first day, for apart from the final few headlining treasures—which could be considered rare—the rest were ordinary at best.

He selected the dozen or so spiritual herbs needed for sword refinement, and Sima Yan quickly noted them down.

After about half an hour, the auction officially commenced. There was little of note in the proceedings; with Sima Yan present, Chen Yang obtained every herb he required.

As for the Baohua Gathering, the truly valuable items almost never appeared in the early days of the auction. Were it not to draw the crowd, even the so-called final treasures would hardly have been brought forth.

The reason was simple: though spirit stones served as currency for cultivators and could be used for cultivation, only those of lower and middle rank truly cared for them. By the time one reached the Nascent Soul stage, unless it was a supreme-grade spirit stone containing a trace of innate energy, they were mere currency.

The true draw for Nascent Soul cultivators at the Baohua Gathering was the exchange assembly held on the final day. That was the true venue where Nascent Soul masters could obtain what they desired.

In the days that followed, Chen Yang attended daily, with Sima Yan always presenting him with the catalog of that day’s lots in advance.

Frowning, he tossed the catalog aside. The further the auction progressed, the more treasures there were, and the more precious they became. Yet, paradoxically, there was nothing to his liking. Even the spiritual herbs needed for sword refinement had vanished, replaced by pills and ingredients aimed at boosting power or breaking through bottlenecks.

These items, valuable to others, were utterly useless to him.

As for magical treasures, it was even more so. Even the so-called Supreme Spirit Treasures were, in his eyes, nothing special.

The Sea-Calming Pearl, too, was a Supreme Spirit Treasure. Its might was respectable, able to still the waves and resist the ocean’s swallowing force. But that was all; in terms of raw destruction, it might rival the Heavenly Demon Banner, but in terms of subtlety, it fell far short.

“Senior…” Seeing his demeanor, Sima Yan grew anxious, fearing she might have jeopardized her ancestor’s affairs.

Chen Yang waved his hand. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“If there is nothing I need today, I won’t bother with the auction. I’ll go out for a stroll instead.”

With that, Chen Yang rose and stepped out of the private room.

Sima Yan and Fat Xu hurried after him.

Outside the venue was a vast marketplace of unaffiliated cultivators and small foundation-establishing families who lacked the qualification to enter the auction, peddling their wares.

“Cultivation, cultivation, it is the pursuit of carefree longevity. What meaning is there if one cultivates immortality only to end up like this?” Chen Yang shook his head inwardly, chose a less crowded direction, and wandered leisurely.

Along the way, he encountered a few spiritual herbs suitable for sword refinement—not particularly rare, just common fare. The Four Seas Trading House would deliver them with a word, but seeing these itinerant cultivators struggling so hard for their path, and since he had come across them, he bought them nonetheless.

As he wandered, he suddenly spotted a stall adorned with a blood banner, upon which was inscribed: “Blood for blood, tooth for tooth.” About a dozen people crowded around. Interest piqued, Chen Yang stepped forward for a look.

A disheveled youth sat behind the stall, which was propped up by the blood-stained cloth, displaying a single magical treasure: a golden alms bowl, its surface flecked with silvery stars.

“Interesting!” Chen Yang brushed aside the two men blocking his view and stepped closer.

The two, angered, were about to curse, but Sima Yan fixed them with a glare, and they immediately fell silent.

Sima Yan casually tossed them a few mid-grade spirit stones and waved her hand. Instantly, their anger turned to delight, and with bows and smiles, they retreated a few steps, leaving ample space for the trio.

“What a waste, such a waste…” Chen Yang lamented. The golden bowl itself was unremarkable, just an ordinary treasure for a Golden Core cultivator. But its material was nothing less than the Heavenly River Star Sand, one of the nine divine metals of the world—an ultimate sword-forging material he had long sought.

He shook his head and sighed. While the star sand could be extracted and repurposed, its quality would inevitably suffer some loss. Even as top-tier sword material, what a pity.

“This item is not for sale—only for trade,” the youth said, head lowered, voice hoarse and unpleasant, blocking Chen Yang’s hand as he reached out to examine the bowl.

“Oh? And what does my young friend wish to trade for?” Chen Yang was patient, withdrew his hand, and questioned with a smile.

“Vengeance,” the youth replied tersely.

One of the itinerant cultivators, who had just received Sima Yan’s spirit stones, stepped forward ingratiatingly, “Young master, don’t fall for this boy’s ploy. His enemy is a Golden Core master, and that master is a nephew of a Taione Sect elder. Who would dare provoke such a figure?”

Chen Yang frowned. At this, Sima Yan stepped forward and slapped the speaker aside, snapping, “Mind your own business. Begone.”

The man was struck senseless, clutching his face in shock. After a long moment, he wanted to retort, but dared not; in the end, he could only leave in dejection, stumbling away.

Chen Yang glanced at the youth, then smiled, “For me, killing is as easy as turning my hand, ev