Chapter 559

Before Chen Mu left this hidden base, Shen Ge, burdened by his sect's blood feud and the loss of the divine weapon, had developed a deep demonic obsession and insisted on leaving to find the Moon Shadow Flowing Light Sword, even knowing it meant certain death.

In the end, it was Xue Xue Ranran who devised a plan—becoming pregnant with Shen Ge's child—to temporarily bind him with duty and attachment, forcing him to stay.

But because of this, Shen Ge's temperament changed drastically; he grew more silent and dispirited, locking himself deep within the cave, secluded in cultivation—not so much practicing as escaping.

"Send someone to call Shen Ge out!"

Xu Qingyin gave a low command, her gaze sweeping toward a disciple, "Tell him the Moon Shadow Flowing Light Sword has been recovered by Young Master Chen!"

Upon hearing this, the disciple perked up immediately, answering earnestly before turning and sprinting swiftly toward the depths of the cave where Shen Ge was secluded.

Not long after, a hurried, unsteady footstep echoed from deep within the passage.

Out staggered a man with disheveled hair, a gaunt face, unkempt beard, his once-pristine white robe now caked in dust, eyes bloodshot.

It was Shen Ge.

He seemed not to see anyone else in the cave, even ignoring Chen Mu and Xu Qingyin.

The moment he emerged, his gaze was locked onto the dark blue longsword hovering midair, radiating familiar, majestic lunar radiance.

"Moon Shadow… Flowing Light Sword…"

Shen Ge's lips trembled as he muttered softly, his eyes blazing with an indescribable mix of fervor, excitement, sorrow, and guilt.

He stared fixedly at the sword, his whole body trembling uncontrollably—as if seeing a long-lost kin, or his own unbearable past and crushing responsibility.

Unconsciously, like a sleepwalker, he extended his trembling right hand, stumbling forward, reaching to touch and grasp the divine weapon that embodied everything of his sect.

Hu—

A gentle palm wind materialized out of thin air, striking precisely against Shen Ge's chest, sending him stumbling backward several steps before he collapsed onto the ground.

The one who struck was Xu Qingyin.

"Worthless fool! Look at yourself now!"

Xu Qingyin rebuked sharply, her eyes filled with pain and disappointment, "The divine weapon stands before you, yet you do not think to thank your benefactor or reflect on yourself—how can you act so disgracefully?"

"This sword was recovered by Young Master Chen at great personal risk—from the forbidden depths of Jiuyou Sect—for you, for all of us! Don't you dare fail to thank Young Master Chen first!"

The blow jolted Shen Ge awake, and he finally heard Xu Qingyin's words.

He snapped his head up, staring at Chen Mu standing nearby; the fervor in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by profound shame, utter humiliation, and a flicker of indescribable gratitude.

Struggling to rise, he dared not look Chen Mu in the eye, only lowering his head as his voice, thick with stifled sobs, rasped out.

"Chen… Chen brother… I… I have no face to meet you…"

Watching him like this, Chen Mu sighed inwardly.

Once, Shen Ge had not been a top-tier genius, but he had been spirited and ambitious—the pride of Yaoyue Sect's younger generation.

After the sect's destruction, the loss of the divine weapon, and being "tricked" into staying by Xue Xue Ranran in that manner, the multiple blows had nearly shattered his spirit, reducing him to this state—truly heartbreaking.

"Shen brother, you need not do this."

Chen Mu spoke calmly, his tone devoid of much emotion, yet carrying an odd, stabilizing power, "I risked my life to retrieve this sword—not only because it should never have lain tarnished in Jiuyou, but because I consider you a friend."

"Friend…"

Shen Ge shuddered violently, snapping his head up to stare at Chen Mu.

Chen Mu's gaze was clear and calm, holding no trace of contempt or pity—only his usual serenity and sincerity.

Shen Ge's nose tingled with heat; he could no longer hold back, lowering his head and covering his face with both hands, muffled, beast-like whimpers leaking through his fingers.

This crying held too much.

The hatred of his sect's annihilation, the humiliation of exile, his own powerlessness, his complex feelings toward Xue Xue Ranran, and his gratitude and guilt toward Chen Mu for aiding him without holding past grievances.

Inside the cave, silence reigned—only Shen Ge's stifled sobs echoed.

The other disciples felt the weight of it; many of them too had reddened eyes.

At that moment, the hovering Moon Shadow Flowing Light Sword suddenly trembled slightly, emitting its cold, ancient voice, brimming with unmasked disdain and disappointment.

"Worthless! Little Lu said you were the most outstanding disciple of Yaoyue Sect's younger generation, destined to inherit his legacy. Look at you now—neither man nor ghost, your spirit so fragile—how can you ever bear the burden of reviving your sect?"

The sword spirit's voice pierced Shen Ge's heart like ice needles.

His crying stopped instantly; his body stiffened, fingers gripping his face so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The other disciples held their breath, silent.

Xu Qingyin's eyes flickered with pain, yet she said nothing to defend Shen Ge.

The sword spirit's words, though harsh, were true.

Chen Mu watched this scene, shaking his head slightly.

Shen Ge's demonic obsession had not formed overnight, nor could it be undone by mere words from others.

He turned to Xu Qingyin and asked a question that seemed abrupt yet struck straight to the core.

"Senior Xu, aside from sacrificing oneself to a terrestrial weapon to gain a power equivalent to the Ten Thousand Forms Realm—then becoming a non-human, non-weapon 'sword puppet'—is there another way to gain sufficient power for revenge in a short time?"

This question was addressed to Xu Qingyin, but in a way, it was also directed at Shen Ge—or rather, testing whether Shen Ge truly possessed such a desperate, death-defying will.

"Him? Want to sacrifice himself to me?"

The Moon Shadow Flowing Light Sword's spirit sneered again, crushing any thought Shen Ge might have entertained, "His will is weak, his soul frail—even if he sacrificed himself, how much power could he gain? He'd likely dissolve into nothingness before even touching the Heavenly Palace Realm's threshold, merely polluting my power."

Shen Ge's body trembled again, his head sinking even lower.

Xu Qingyin fell silent for a moment, her gaze complex as she glanced at Shen Ge, then at the hovering Moon Shadow Flowing Light Sword; finally, she nodded slowly, her voice low and clear.

"There is indeed another method."

All eyes in the cave instantly fixed on Xu Qingyin—even Shen Ge, head bowed, twitched his ears slightly.

"What method?" Chen Mu asked.

"The core secret technique of the Bowing Sword Sect," Xu Qingyin said, each word deliberate.

"Bowing Sword Sect?" Chen Mu's brow lifted slightly.

The Bowing Sword Sect—one of the Six Great Sword Sects—was famed for its fanatical sword techniques and fanatical, warlike disciples; its sect treasure was the "Sun-Chasing Sword."

He had just met Shi Shi Kuangsheng of the Bowing Jianmen.

"Correct."

Xu Qingyin explained, "The Bowing Jianmen's philosophy differs from other sword sects, which generally emphasize human and sword in mutual mastery—the sword as companion, as extension."

"But the Bowing Jianmen leans toward 'sacrificing the human to the sword,' or rather, 'bowing to the sword.'"

"They possess a core secret art through which, via special rituals and brutal trials, they sacrifice portions of their spiritual soul and essence blood to the sect's divine weapon, 'Sun-Chasing Sword,' in exchange for the earth-grade weapon's bestowed great power and killing sword intent."

"This method yields rapid results and immense power, but its drawback is the consumption of lifespan!"