Chapter 390: You Are the Chess Pieces

"Quiet!"

Just as the endless Blood Evil Qi and surging hatred within the Jinghong Sword were about to drown the person opposite, that terrifying Sword Intent seemed ready to tear the firmament asunder.

In an instant, the sun and moon dimmed, the heavens and earth lost their light, and a ten-thousand-foot wave of blood-colored aura covered a radius of one hundred miles.

It felt as if a ten-thousand-foot-tall mountain were pressing down on everyone's hearts, heavy and suffocating, as if they could be crushed to death at any moment.

Just as this Sword Intent seemed about to pierce through them, a hand suddenly appeared and grasped the Jinghong Sword. The Jinghong Sword, which had been trembling incessantly, stopped its vibration at this moment.

In the hands of this suddenly appearing old man, the Jinghong Sword seemed to become extremely docile; even though the hatred within it remained surging, it seemed to be forcibly suppressed the moment the old man gripped the hilt.

It was as if this old man could naturally restrain this sword.

"Father, the sword is complete, we succeeded!" Upon seeing the old man, the people around him revealed expressions of joy, and the enemy of two generations of the Sword Casting Villa even rushed up with their entire family in tow.

They looked at the sword in the old man's hand with joy, the fervor in their eyes plain for all to see.

Yet, as they walked, the person nearly stumbled and fell to the ground, their body seemingly so weak for a moment that they could not even stand steady.

There was no help for it; these two generations of the Sword Casting Villa were geniuses among geniuses.

Even though he had cultivated for many more years than the other party, he was still no match, and could only use other means to stimulate himself to cause his strength to surge in a short time.

On the surface, it seemed as if he were suppressing the other party, forcing them into a position where they had no power to fight back with effortless ease.

But in reality, his outburst could not last long; if the other party had held on for just a little longer, he would have been the one to kneel.

It was merely his own seemingly relaxed and elegant response that gave the other party immense pressure, and coupled with the casual killing of the other party's child, it threw them into complete disarray.

This forced them to sacrifice themselves to the Jinghong Sword, all just to avenge their blood feud. Little did they know, everything was within their plan.

When these residual images within the sword entered his vision, Shen Yu could not help but curse.

He never imagined that two generations of the Sword Casting Villa were both within someone else's calculations.

The previous generation's deep blood feud—betrayed by a lover, both hands crippled, and all blood relatives slaughtered—was all to force him to forge this Jinghong Sword.

The latter generation was then schemed against in the same way, forced to use their own surging hatred and their entire cultivation and blood essence to perform a Blood Sacrifice to the Jinghong Sword.

Both generations had pinned all their hopes of revenge on the Jinghong Sword. Who would have thought that once the Jinghong Sword was finished, it would end up in someone else's pocket.

Everything, every single thing, had been calculated by that person.

One has to say, this family that ultimately profited is truly wicked; they have no shame in order to achieve their goals. They are also patient enough, setting a trap for a whole family, and once they start, they keep them trapped for decades.

"Father, this sword has finally taken complete form; it was not in vain for our decades of planning."

"Yes, it is a success!" he murmured in a low voice, though at this moment there was not a shred of joy on the old man's face.

He had planned for so long, plotting across two generations, just to obtain such a Jinghong Sword.

This sword required the blood of the direct bloodline of the Sword Casting Villa to be forged, and this blood had to be filled with surging hatred to forge such a perfect sword.

Afterwards, it required the blood of the same closest kin to sharpen it; only then could the sword be considered fully formed.

When he learned that the Sword Casting Villa possessed such a forbidden sword-casting art, he began his planning; after so many years, he had finally seen the results.

What no one knew was that the old lover of that swordsman from the Sword Casting Villa back then was indeed pregnant, and later did indeed give birth to a son.

This information, which could be known just by asking around, was not something they deliberately fabricated, but was simply the truth.

In other words, this son was indeed the bloodline of that swordsman from years ago. However, after the boy was born, he had swapped him and sent him back to his father's side.

Now, this son had grown up and become famous in the Jianghu. Just moments ago, he had used his own blood to sacrifice to the sword, causing this Jinghong Sword to be sharpened.

Forging this sword required the blood of the closest kin. One person forged the sword with their body, and one person sacrificed to the sword with their blood, carrying that deep-seated hatred.

Coupled with the fact that the other party practiced the forbidden art he had secretly provided, all of this was added to the sword body, and only then could such a sword be obtained.

They didn't stop to think: in this world, how could there be so many fortuitous encounters for you to just happen upon? Every fortuitous encounter could be a trap.

The so-called fortuitous encounters and the so-called forbidden arts were all just a setup he had quietly arranged.

The other party was truly pitifully stupid, jumping in just like that, and even doing so willingly.

Little did they know, all of this was just making wedding clothes for them. When the day of their success arrived, the time of harvest, it would be the time for him to reap.

Now, the legendary sword of the Sword Casting Villa had appeared, and the time for him to completely dominate the martial arts world was not far off.

Relying on this sword, he would begin to slaughter the world, and no one would be able to resist him. As long as he kept killing, his strength could continue to improve, and he could even use this to break through his limits and become stronger and stronger.

Nourished by fresh blood, the Jinghong Sword, which could devour blood and absorb the essence and spirit of others, grew stronger and would become increasingly terrifying.

Holding the sword, he would be invincible in the world; even after the Spirit Qi Surge, he would not fear in the slightest.

Grasping this sword, the old man laughed loudly and crazily.

Son, daughter-in-law, great-granddaughter—they were all his Chess Pieces; everything was for this day.

After the laughter, the old man suddenly swung his sword forward; his relatives beside him were caught off guard and suffered heavy casualties under this strike.

"Father!" Seemingly unable to believe that their own father would strike at them, the person widened their eyes and fell down in unwillingness.

However, the old man seemed not to see it at all, stepping directly over his son's corpse and striding inside.

That night, the screams were endless, and in the end, no one in the entire residence was left alive except for the old man; all his blood relatives had died under this sword.

"Severing emotions and cutting off intentions, only now can I be called a true Martial Artist!" Holding the Jinghong Sword, the old man laughed loudly again, his smile filled with endless coldness.

"Son, do not blame me; this is the only path to the peak. I must sever all emotions and ties to eliminate all my weaknesses."

"It is cold at the heights, and it is always lonely there; I do not need anyone to accompany me!"

He strode out of the courtyard, and from then on, a storm of blood began to rise in the Jianghu, with countless people dying under the Jinghong Sword.

The Jinghong Sword devoured the essence and blood of those it killed, and in an instant, it could suck a person dry, with all their power feeding back into him.

The old man even created the Jinghong Sword Art, which could more efficiently coordinate with the characteristics of the Jinghong Sword, seizing the power of others during slaughter for his own use.

It was not that no one had thought of stealing the Jinghong Sword; wealth moves people's hearts, let alone the Jinghong Sword, which could continuously enhance one's strength.

But the sword blade drank blood and became increasingly violent, with an irresolvable hatred lingering upon it. It was precisely this hatred that caused everyone who dared to grasp it to collapse in an instant.

Relying on the Jinghong Sword, the old man was invincible in the Jianghu, and wherever he passed, there were piles of white bones. All who dared to resist died under his sword.

Yet the old man was not happy; he had tried countless times, and even though his power was already strong enough that no one could match him, he still could not break the limits of this world.

If his realm could not be improved, it meant that his lifespan would one day come to an end.

He stood at the peak, and the power to decide the affairs of the world with a single word was something he could not bear to relinquish; he tried desperately to live longer, yet he could never manage to do so.

All who wield the sword will unconsciously sink into depravity; the martial arts world fears it, yet everyone wants to obtain it.

Finally, the old man seemed to have figured something out and vanished from the martial arts world from then on. At the same time, the Sword Casting Villa, which had already become ruins, was rebuilt.

It was just that, at this time, the Sword Casting Villa was no longer called the Sword Casting Villa, but had been renamed Cangjian Villa, and what it hid was that Jinghong Sword!

From then on, the sword was covered in dust, never to see the light of day again.

Day after day, year after year, as time passed, it was as if the bloody storms of yesteryear had all become legends.

The old man sat withered in Cangjian Villa for twenty years, and he himself had become frail and old, as if he were a candle about to be extinguished at any moment.

Over these twenty years, he established the Hidden Sword Pavilion and hid the Jinghong Sword and all the famous swords he had snatched over these many years inside it.

Finally, the old man closed his eyes atop the Hidden Sword Pavilion, as if he had seen through the ways of the world and given up everything.

Seeing these fragments, Shen Yu felt a moment of trance; the Jinghong Sword seemed to contain the memory fragments of three people. It was dizzying and mesmerizing, as if he were placed within that martial arts world.

Wait, three people? Suddenly, Shen Yu seemed to realize something.

The first two sacrificed themselves into the sword, so there was residual spiritual energy of theirs in the sword, and it is understandable that some deeply ingrained memories remained.

The last one clearly died of old age, so how could his memories also appear in the sword? Even if he had achieved the unity of man and sword, it shouldn't have left behind so many images.

And at this very moment, alarm bells rang out in Shen Yu's heart, and in an instant, he was jolted awake.

Cold sweat, he did not know when it had begun to trickle down his forehead; he had actually been invaded without even realizing it just now.

If it weren't for the fact that he had always used the Heaven and Earth Lock to seal himself, preventing external energy from invading, the other party would likely have already invaded his body just now.

"This old man is wicked; he didn't 'see through things' at the end at all. This is clearly still him thinking about how to trap people!"