Chapter 534: Again, It

Identifying the concept of creation, establishing the basic framework, and replicating the constituent materials—these three steps constitute the engineering process for manufacturing weapon shells and materials.

Imitating the manufacturing technique, empathizing with the growth experience, and recreating the accumulated years—these three steps reproduce the weapon's history alongside its wielders.

This is Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's unique Projection ability; the weapons he projects are not merely physical objects—he can replicate and internalize all combat experience, sword techniques, and personal stats of every previous wielder, making it a downright cheating ability.

"Full-Process Projection"

Twenty-seven magical circuits within his body glowed with mysterious magical light, linked to the girl in his arms.

In the sea of consciousness, the boy standing atop the hill of swords bore an analytical pressure beyond mortal comprehension, while the girl with snow-white hair appeared behind him, smiling faintly as she gently embraced him.

In an instant, like a dammed flood finally guided, the energy surged out in multiple directions.

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Liu Sheng Damashou: Killing God's Single Slash, Snow Drifting Through the World, Dominating All Under Heaven.

Ye Gucheng: Flying Immortal from Beyond the Heavens

Wuming's Sacred Spirit Sword Art: Heaven's Sword Realm, Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Source

Shang Buhan: Clumsy Sword, Formless, Eight Directions' Qi Arrives, Ghosts and Gods Flee

Using the Third Law of the Einzberns—Soul Materialization—as the vessel, combined with his spiritual bond to Illya, the moment the weapon's stored information was loaded, it was entirely transferred to the Servant body created by the Third Law.

This is a perfect replica—Artificial Servant—without a true soul, nearly replicating half a lifetime of experiences.

On the side of the Emotionless Sword Dao, Ye Gucheng saw the figure take shape: same sword in hand, pale face with faint beard, clad in a snow-white robe; his eyes, seen through the snowy night, resembled two cold stars.

In a breath, coldness seeped into his heart and lungs; a blade of light flashed like lightning, streaking across the heavens like a rainbow.

Ye Gucheng shifted his foot slightly, tilted his chin to evade the throat-cutting strike: "So there's an opening like this?"

Anticipating the inevitable shift in force to thrust next, he smiled, his sword spinning rapidly outward.

Clang!

Two identical swords clashed, sparks flying, brilliant and swift blade-light filling the air.

"Indeed, perfect timing."

A piercing sword force erupted from his body; Wuming radiated a solitary, lofty sword intent, and intangible yet real sword qi burst from his fingertips, dissolving the countless swords summoned by the replica.

"You're using a real sword?!" Shang Buhan, seeing the Servant's move, felt the opponent was playing dirty.

The Servant Shang Buhan, failing several strikes, casually drew a divine weapon from the World of Swords; instantly, his offensive power and strength surged more than several-fold, causing some spectators who had previously ignored him to take his strength seriously.

"Ten Thousand Miles of Yellow Dust!"

Shang Buhan threw his wooden sword; the violently spinning blade generated wind pressure that whipped up dust and sand, briefly halting the Servant's assault.

"This place is full of weapons—sacred swords, demonic swords, demonic swords, immortal swords… Looks like you're not short on weapons at all, haha!" Shang Buhan clashed with his own Servant replica, wielding his wooden sword as powerful qi erupted from both their surroundings.

He looked at Wei Gong Weigong Shilang, a faint curve forming at the corner of his mouth, as if recalling something.

"Then, these weapons must mean nothing to you, right?!"

A scroll flew from his chest; his fingers swiftly traced along the ink-drawn blade, finally stopping on a weapon named Sun-Moon Divine Breath.

The ancient sword was drawn; light blazed instantly as bright as daylight, the sun obscured the blue sky, then the moon rose high, as if infinite radiance poured down.

Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's eyelid twitched—he had a strange feeling he'd seen this scroll and the weapon's name before, perhaps as movie props during filming.

On the side of the Emotional Sword Dao, the snow-covered plain witnessed this scene with interest; the Emotionless Sword Dao side also did not waste this chance to duel their mirror selves, fully immersed in it.

But soon after, Wei Gong Weigong Shilang noticed an old man walking through the snow, and with just one glance, shattered his own Servant form.

He stopped about ten meters away from Wei Gong Weigong Shilang and smiled:

"Would you two be willing to join my Floating Light Immortal Realm's Sword Pool lineage? Don't worry about the restriction that other Tianchengs require payment to remain in other universes—our sect's great ones will personally come to your world to guide you over."

The old man showed no cultivation aura whatsoever, yet the sword technique he just used was not among those Wei Gong Weigong Shilang had read from the weapon's stored data.

"Thank you for your kindness, elder." Wei Gong Weigong Shilang declined in the tone he'd used while wandering the Cultivation Realm: "But I'm used to being a free cloud and wild crane—I have no plans for now."

"Is that so? Then let us communicate through the sword." The old man did not press further; he discarded the common iron sword in his hand and pulled out a long, wrapped object covered in silk and brocade.

His movements were slow, his hands trembling slightly; he lifted the silk to reveal a golden ancient sword, its blade riddled with cracks, repaired with veins of green-red immortal gold.

"I am Hen Bie Li. Long ago, I was injured—I'm probably no longer in the Heavenly Immortal Realm; in some worlds, you'd call it the Pure Realm or Heavenly Immortal Realm."

"Emotional swords, emotionless swords—they mean nothing to me now. I came here only to find sword cultivators with talent."

"I see you're confident." His cloudy eyes cleared as he caressed the blade's surface; his Yu Guang flickered toward Wei Gong Weigong Shilang, filled with amusement:

"Wanna take one of my swords?"

A chill suddenly spread from Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's spine to his entire body; when he saw the sword in the old man's hand, his soul felt a sharp pain.

It wasn't that the sword couldn't be projected—it was that the accumulated ten-thousand-year sword intent and technique were too immense to load.

Force it?

No… if I did, the old man's sword intent would linger inside me for a long time—even my own sword might turn into the shape of his.

"Very perceptive. You're worthy of taking one of our swords." Hen Bie Li praised: "I won't take advantage—I'll use no cultivation power, only sword intent."

His trembling hand gripped the hilt instantly; the sword world Wei Gong Weigong Shilang had created began to crumble, the bright moon above swaying as if pulling all existence toward annihilation—a black radiance ignited from the shattered blade.

"The Dao turns, all things remain constant—thus they are born, thus they perish; I merge my body into it."

Hen Bie Li's voice reached Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's ears; the sword intent descended like cosmic wrath—he had sensed something like this before, but this destruction was far more terrifying, stirring memories surging in his mind.

"Weigong Shilang." Illya's voice jolted Wei Gong Weigong Shilang awake.

"Ah, I get it." Wei Gong Weigong Shilang took a deep breath, a thrilled smile spreading across his lips: "This is way easier than working."

In truth, the Artificial Servant he and Illya created was an experiment meant to free Wei Gong Weigong Shilang from overtime—but sadly, those Artificial Servants could only fight, nothing else.

Though Wei Gong Weigong Shilang wasn't a fighter by nature, he daily replenished himself with holy herbs and spirit springs, spending his time either crafting weapons or cooking in the kitchen to complete system tasks; occasionally switching activities to test his current cultivation wasn't bad.

"Besides, I can't lose like this."

Boundless sword qi surged from the crumbling sword world, rising and falling like tides; every unclaimed sword scattered on the ground emitted its own unique sword intent.

"Even knowing ten thousand sword intents cannot match the ultimate perfection of one." Hen Bie Li warned, raising his sword high; from the destructive blade-light surged a spark of creation: "Boy! Don't you have your own sword?"

Heaven and earth grew darker; sun and moon fell together, making that single sword light exquisitely beautiful.

At this moment, all the spirits facing the Path of Heartless Sword vanished; everyone raised their heads to gaze at the old man who had long concealed himself and spoken to each of them about taking an apprentice, and at Wei Gong Weigong Shilang, whom his blade pointed toward.

They admitted Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's earlier technique was powerful—he could create replicas bearing his own sword techniques to fight them—but compared to this old man's sword…

A sword's hum rang out!

The third magical crystal of soul materialization merged into Wei Gong Weigong Shilang's soul, endowing it with immortality and infinite mana.

Thanks to this, Wei Gong Weigong Shilang could unleash techniques beyond his potential without restraint—the Character Secret, Hundred Styles of the Sword God, the Sword Scripture, the Ten Directions Sword Art, and other spells and arts—until he fused them all into his final and strongest move.

"All things under heaven and earth are sword; gods, ghosts, demons, and evils are sword."

Wei Gong Weigong Shilang closed his eyes, lifted his heavy, weak right hand, and gently clenched it in the void, drawing forth a long sword of pure white.

"Through countless calamities, the cosmos itself becomes sword."

Blinding swordlight coiled and spiraled around the blade; weapons from the world of swords transformed into sword qi and converged upon the blade, forming a swirling, luminous storm.

"This is the Ten Thousand Divine Calamity!"

Heaven and earth darkened; countless witnesses forgot everything, leaving only the boundless swordlight hurtling toward the annihilating radiance that would topple the world.

Suddenly, across layered timelines of past, present, and future, swordlight fell like snowflakes!

No one knew how long had passed; all sense of time was buried beneath these two infinite, flawless, ultimate sword intents, endlessly erasing each other.

"It seems I truly cannot teach you," Hen Bie Li slashed a brilliant, pure swordlight, shattering the realm formed by the collision of the cave-dimension and sword intent, returning everyone to the arena of Yinglong Tower.

He carefully wrapped the golden longsword in a length of brocade, cradling it in his arms, and shook his head with regret.

Who knew which realm's grandmaster of sword arts this prodigy was from—he'd reached such a level of sword cultivation at this age, but the problem was his spells and arts were too scattered; it felt as if techniques from entirely different cultivation systems had been mixed together.

How could someone so young train so many disparate arts without going mad?

"Come visit our Floating Light Immortal Realm sometime—we revere only the sword."

Hen Bie Li nodded in satisfaction, turned to the others, and said: "My Sword Pool lineage welcomes all sword cultivators from every world. If you wish to advance further on the sword path, consider trying us."

His cloudy eyes swept across the faces of the crowd, marveling at how many promising youths there were this generation, yet lamenting that all were arrogant sword cultivators—he still hadn't met his thousand-year enrollment quota.

"Nine out of ten sword cultivators have this temperament."

Hen Bie Li glanced at Su Lin, his gaze flickering unconsciously over the pistol in his hand, and muttered under his breath: "A mere boy, unworthy of counsel. Heretic scum."

"Hen Bie Li of the Floating Light Realm Sword Cultivators Alliance?" Su Lin asked.

At these words, Hen Bie Li abruptly halted.

"Do you know me?" Hen Bie Li asked.

Damn, this kind of thing actually exists.

Su Lin raised an eyebrow, his gaze toward the sword immortal turning strange.

Seeing Su Lin say nothing, Hen Bie Li pointed at the pistol in his hand and warned: "Don't bring those heretical devices back to the Floating Light Immortal Realm—or I'll report you to the Sword Cultivators Alliance."

Su Lin chuckled and asked: "Has Jin Huan been repaired?"

Hen Bie Li glanced at the wrapped longsword in his arms, eyes filled with confusion: "You know Jin Huan's name? Are you some ancient ghost who reincarnated after corpse liberation?"

"The Qiongqi Tower's Ye Zhetian Trading Company offers half-price weapon repairs." Su Lin casually pointed toward the exit outside the tower: "There's also a Ministry of Military Affairs from the Heavenly Court—they might fix your divine sword."

Hearing Su Lin's words, Hen Bie Li widened his eyes, turned without looking back, and shot off as a streak of swordlight toward the outside of Yinglong Tower.

How could I not recognize you?

This old man was the disposable grandpa I used once in Lu Mingfei's world, when I fought Zhong Li.

"The Path of Heartless Sword, Hen Bie Li, withdraws," announced an official, facing the Heartless Sword side: "If there are no objections, this match is awarded to the Path of Sentient Sword."

Moments later.

Su Lin stood at the entrance of the Tian Dao Grand Lottery, holding a pile of "Path of Sentient Sword Wins" tickets, thinking of Hen Bie Li as he spoke to the ticket seller, Ru Hua:

"For the Daoist, Demon, and Martial Arts Exchange Competitions, bet on Gu Yue Fang Yuan, Tang Sanzang, and Qi Tian Di—no, don't give me the prizes—put everything into the next round."

"No record of contestants? Oh, leave it—there'll be one soon."

Bam!

Shang Yue slapped himself hard, yet found the dream still hadn't ended.

"Mr. Pei Qian, you're not lying to me, are you?"

"What do you think? I make games."

Shang Yue had already asked several other modern guests what Elden Ring was. To be honest, he rarely played console games before his transmigration—but after hearing its setting and lore, his gaze toward the other modern guests had grown peculiar.

"I must be insane."

Something's wrong. Very wrong.

First there was Xiao Yan, a Star Dou Zong who refines pills with Hun Tian Di, then Lu Mingfei returning like Elden Ring, and now Wei Gong Weigong Shilang, walking the Illya route, overpowering all sword cultivators with his blade?

After confirming none of the other modern-world guests had seen these versions, Shang Yue kept slapping his own face, trying to wake up.

"Master Shang, don't do that—hey, stop it…"

Someone quickly grabbed him.

Shang Yue waved his hand, dazed, and walked toward other regions of the Celestial Dynasty.

"The mortal world has grown corrupt again."

Are the protagonists invited to Qiongqi Tower… a bit off?

This plot has gone completely off the rails!

Who's shouting "corrupt"?

Shang Yue turned his head to the side—where the center of the Martial Arts Exchange Competition, filled with martial artists slashing at each other with swords and blades, practicing Iron Body, Golden Bell, and Toad Skill, now stood frozen, staring at a magnificent man with six black wings on his back.

"Huh?"

(End of Chapter)