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Chapter 75: The Inkstone Awakens
"Rise, Senior Han," Lu Chen said, his tone steady as he stepped forward to support the elder's elbow. "A sword that guards its ancestral mountain for sixty years kneels to no one."Han Chengzhou shook his head slowly, but allowed Lu Chen to help him to his feet. As the ancient Pavilion Lord stood erect, his frail, withered frame seemed to undergo a profound transformation. The concave hollows in his cheeks filled with healthy warmth as pure silver vitality surged through his unblocked meridians. The tattered gold-trimmed robes billowed without wind, and the cavern air, once heavy with poisonous miasma, grew crisp and sharp as winter frost.Sixty years of pinned agony had scarred his Dao foundation, but the sovereign sword-intent coiled inside his marrow had not diminished by a single fraction. It had only grown more terrible, tempered in subterranean suffering.Around them, the nine heirloom swords hummed in mournful joy, rising out of the b
Chapter 74: The Extracted Thorn
The subterranean cavern was as cold as a frozen tomb, the only sound the sluggish, venomous drip of black fluid oozing from the iron spike.The kneeling elder looked at Lu Chen through hollow, sunken sockets. The faint blue ember within his eyes flickered, trembling between incredulity and bitter sorrow. "Pull the thorn?" The elder’s voice sounded like two dry grinding stones rubbing together in the dark. "Little friend, do you know what this thorn is forged from?""Abyssal black meteorite, quenched in the marrow of nine hundred executed swordmasters," Lu Chen answered calmly, his gaze fixed on the twisting imperial serpent runes etched along the spike's shaft. "And sealed with the Blood-Parasite Sovereign Brand of the Great Jin court. It was struck through your Ren meridian to turn your Dao foundation into a siphon, converting the sword-qi of this ancestral mountain into venom for the Upper Sky."A long, rattling silence filled the cavern.<
Chapter 73: The Well of Blackened Iron
The courtyard fell dead silent, save for the soughing of the mountain gale.Jian Chi stared at Lu Chen through milky, sightless eyes. The old broom in his grip trembled once, then settled back into stillness. For sixty years, geniuses from across the Barren Heavens had arrived at Cold Mountain bearing ambitious dreams, yet every one of them had fled before the bitter chill of the Broken Sword Precipice. None had ever demanded that the tomb be unsealed before the frost on their boots could thaw."Impatience is the quickest road to the underworld, boy," Jian Chi rasped."Waiting six days changes nothing except the amount of soul my predecessor has left to burn," Lu Chen replied evenly. "If the terrace must be opened, open it now."Kuang Yan stepped forward, slamming the butt of his heavy spear into the flagstones. "I'm going down with him.""Stay where you stand, ox," Jian Chi snapped, his blind gaze flicking toward Kuang Yan with sudd
Chapter 72: The Inkstone Beneath the Terrace
The courtyard was hushed, save for the dry rasp of snow blowing across weathered flagstones. Around the perimeter, ancient plum trees stood bare and gnarled, their branches heavy with frost. A dozen decaying pavilions rose behind the courtyard, their eaves chipped and roof tiles missing, yet the lingering aura of sovereign swordsmanship clung to every beam and rafter like dormant thunder.The blind elder did not move. His hands, gnarled like winter roots, rested firmly atop the smooth wooden handle of his broom. His milky, unblinking eyes were leveled directly at Lu Chen, but his posture was that of a man who saw not with eyes, but with an ancient, bone-deep sword-will that perceived the curvature of the world itself.Kuang Yan shifted his stance slightly, the weight of the old man’s presence pressing down on the courtyard like a fallen mountain. Even without a speck of released Qi, the air around the elder hummed at a pitch so high it made one's tee
Chapter 71: The Hundred-Blade Flight
The surface of the Frost-Bite River was not ordinary water. It was a glacial slurry of liquefied sword-qi and subterranean mountain runoff, so densely chilled that a mortal iron blade dropped into its depths would shatter from thermal shock before touching the riverbed. Yet beneath Lu Chen’s cloth shoes, the emerald resonance emanating from the green willow branch held the current in serene suspension.Kuang Yan walked directly behind him, his heavy iron spear held horizontally across his back to balance his weight. Every step the big man took sent deep ripples through the glassy black water, but the ice held."Feels like walking across a lake of unsheathed daggers," Kuang Yan muttered, his breath pluming in thick white clouds. "If my soles slip, my ankles are gone.""Do not look down," Chu Qingxuan murmured from his flank. Her autumn-water sword was partially drawn, an inch of frosty silver steel exposed to harmonize with the biting current
Chapter 70: The River of Broken Blades
Gu Shan stared at Lu Chen, his ancient, weathered brow twitching in disbelief before settling into a long, quiet sigh."Willow trees?" Gu Shan murmured, looking out through the pavilion’s arched balcony toward the endless ocean of purple clouds. "Cold Mountain has frost, iron, and granite that has remained frozen since the first sun rose in the Barren Heavens. The sword winds there are so sharp that even high-grade spirit bamboo snaps within three winters. If a willow could grow on those cliffs, the elders of the Nine Heavens Sword Pavilion would have cut it down long ago to kindle their forge."Lu Chen smiled faintly, setting down his empty jade bowl. "Then someone ought to plant one."Gu Shan studied the youth for several heartbeats. He looked at Kuang Yan, whose broad chest was scarred from battle, and Chu Qingxuan, whose hand remained poised over her frost-sheath with the unyielding devotion of an ancient swordswoman. Neither companion protested;
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