Chapter 156: Obstruction

Buzz—

Inside the quiet, dimly lit bamboo shed, Niu Dingtian closed his eyes and focused his mind, sitting motionlessly beside it, perceiving the tremor in the furnace, yet his heart was far from calm.

"Finally, it's here…"

Niu Dingtian murmured, the sword and blade quivered, and although it was only a slight resonance, it had already opened the gate to a new world.

Two months have passed.

Since he poured the first drop of blood, his whole being seemed to fall into a trance, constantly awaiting a response from the furnace.

And now, he truly felt a blood‑bond with these swords.

"Is it really here?" Zhang Quezi widened his eyes in amazement, couldn't help but exclaim softly; in the night his eyes glittered, incredulous.

This was something he had never dared to imagine before; sword‑spirit beings were recorded in the sect's classics, said to exist only in the pre‑Qin era, with no records thereafter.

A pursuit that generations of ancestors and masters had failed at for over a thousand years succeeded in his hands?

No matter how he thought about it, it felt like a dream, unreal.

So Zhang Quezi thrust out his dark right hand and yanked himself hard.

"Sss— really not dreaming…" After releasing his hand, Zhang Quezi grinned.

"Hmm." Niu Dingtian slowly opened his eyes, gave a slight nod, his pallid face suppressing a hint of joy.

Calming his emotions, Niu Dingtian said softly, "Although it's only a slight tremor, I can feel it responding to me. Compared to the earlier feeling of confronting an inanimate object, it's like… like establishing a connection."

"Good, good…" Zhang Quezi's eyes began to shine, he kept grinning foolishly, his excitement beyond words.

But after a short while, for some unknown reason, Zhang Quezi's smile gradually froze.

Frowning as he pondered for a moment, he suddenly stood, turned his head toward the sword furnace, his gaze slightly drooping, and he fell silent.

For a moment—

The bamboo shed fell into silence, only the occasional crackle of charcoal from the furnace could be heard.

Seeing this, Niu Dingtian couldn't help but feel a sudden unease.

He immediately bent forward, leaned close, pondered briefly, and asked, "Mr. Zhang, what's wrong? Could it be that our blood‑refining method still has flaws?"

"If we still lack any precious materials, just tell me; whatever you can name, no matter the cost, I will find a way to obtain it."

If today brought no hope, his disappointment wouldn't be great; at worst he'd settle for an ordinary divine weapon.

But if hope appears and is then brutally snuffed out, that would be damn terrible.

Moreover, after enduring nearly half a year of torment and shedding blood for two consecutive months, his body was already severely depleted.

Now that hope has just emerged, giving him something to look forward to, if it's suddenly struck down, doused with cold water, he fears he might go mad with frustration.

But Zhang Quezi remained silent, offering no reply, his expression heavy.

Niu Dingtian took a deep breath, eased slightly, his whole heart sinking to the bottom of a valley.

Just as he was about to give up, Zhang Quezi let out a soft sigh, slowly lifted his head to stare at the pitch‑black night sky, and said gently, "Niu kid, prepare to shed blood. From now on, every two‑hour period pour a bowl of blood into the furnace, and watch the swords' movements."

Nothing?

Niu Dingtian let out a heavy sigh.

But when he heard that a bowl of blood was required each shichen, the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

At this rate, when the swords finally emerge, should he also finish himself off?

Still, it's not impossible to persevere; after all, he's made it this far, and for the sake of the sword‑spirit beings, he'll grit his teeth and keep going.

At worst, he can return later and drink some spirit spring water to recover.

Thinking of this, Niu Dingtian said gravely, "Mr. Zhang, rest assured, not a single bowl will be missed! Before the swords emerge, I will feed them both fully!"

Hearing this, Zhang Quezi's dark face showed a hint of relief, and he sighed lightly, "Thanks to the ancestor's favor, my forging skill has reached this level; in earlier times I would never have dared to imagine it."

"However, since the swords have responded, we can't let the ancestors remain the only ones to enjoy the glory; when the swords emerge and the divine weapon appears, our toil and sacrifice will be worthwhile."

Having said that, Zhang Quezi sat cross‑legged on the ground, his eyes fixed blankly on the furnace's flames, saying nothing further.

Seeing this, Niu Dingtian's eyes flickered slightly, his thoughts beginning to stir.

Just moments ago he was laughing foolishly with excitement, now he suddenly became subdued.

He always felt Zhang Quezi's words were a bit odd, as if something was hidden in his heart.

Just as he was about to ask, to test the waters,

The next moment—

In the distant night, a flash of light swiftly tore through the darkness, soaring upward like an arrow released from a bow, piercing the heavens.

Immediately after,

"Boom!"

A burst rang out, and brilliant fireworks blossomed instantly at great height, illuminating the sea of black clouds.

"This is… a distress signal!" Niu Dingtian muttered, staring at the fireworks, and when he turned his gaze toward a distant spot, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He hadn't been seen for half a year, and now someone is already impatiently making trouble?

That firework was a distress signal he had specially devised a few years ago; it had been launched once at Shaolin Temple three years prior.

Now, with the Sun‑Moon Divine Sect on the verge of being established, each core disciple holds one; they would only launch it unless absolutely forced.

But once launched, it's a major event; any disciple of the sect who can see it nearby must provide immediate, unconditional support without error!

And now, the spot where the firework rose is exactly toward the village.

"A bunch of death‑seekers," Niu Dingtian snorted lightly, his eyes gradually turning cold.

Rubbing the wound on his wrist, he sneered, "They only know that a divine weapon is descending, never considering that it might have an owner, or simply not caring whether it does or not."

"I heard from Mr. Zhang a couple of days ago that even monks from Shaolin Temple came; indeed, as people of the jianghu, everyone is the same. Morality bows to strength; whether it's a secret manual or a divine weapon, if the temptation is great enough, they'll act when the time comes."

As for the outsiders who have flooded the village lately, Niu Dingtian never paid them any heed; as long as they didn't approach the sword furnace and affect the blood‑refining, he let them be.

But now that they're here, a final scramble is inevitable, and Niu Dingtian knows that well.

When the swords come out of the furnace, he doesn't mind stuffing all those who seek death into the sword furnace.

He hadn't expected that before even seeing a trace of the swords, some trouble‑maker would start stirring things up.

Zhang the Lame listened and then fell silent.

Although he knew a little martial arts, he had only done odd jobs in the Yue Family Army in his youth and did not understand the ways of the jianghu.

But surely a group of monks who eat vegetarian and chant Buddha wouldn't openly rob people, would they?

"The Quanzhen Sect and Shaolin Temple are, after all, orthodox schools; they probably wouldn't…" Zhang the Lame turned his head to look at Niu Dingtian, a hint of hesitation on his face.

Niu Dingtian withdrew his gaze, slowly shook his head, a sneer touching his lips, and lightly laughed: "Master Zhang may not realize that if we were merely ordinary folk, when the swords are born we would likely meet no good end—that's the essence of the jianghu."

"Some orthodox schools still care a bit about face; they wouldn't outright kill. Those with thick skins claim the item is fated to them; those with thin skins slap on a hat of being the source of chaos, then pose as righteous guardians, keeping it for the peace of the jianghu."

"Sometimes it's not that knights‑errant are unjust; when the profit is great enough, they also believe their actions serve a greater righteousness—this is their consistent demeanor."

"If the swords could truly give birth to a spirit, not to mention letting a sect flourish for a hundred years, even spawning a whole new Dao lineage would not be excessive. And that is more than enough profit."

"So, when the Heaven‑Reliant Sword and Dragon‑Slaying Saber come out of the furnace, when it's time to act I won't go easy, and Mr. Zhang shouldn't fantasize that anyone will uphold justice for us."

Although that sounds overly realistic, it isn't without reason.

The supreme treasure of the martial world, the Dragon‑Slaying Saber, commands all under heaven, none dare disobey! If the Heaven‑Reliant Sword does not appear, who can contend for supremacy?

A hundred or so years later, a few prophetic lines about the Heaven‑Reliant Sword and Dragon‑Slaying Saber drew countless orthodox sects into the fray, the scramble never ceasing, not even sparing Shaolin and Wudang.

If those present today could personally witness the apparition of the swords' spirit and then spread the word, the ensuing frenzy would likely be no weaker, if not stronger.

"No matter what, the coming time is the most critical," Zhang the Lame warned, furrowing his brow.

"Niu kid, you not only have to keep the blood‑infusion going, but also constantly monitor the swords' movements—how else could you still strike?"

By now their blood‑refining method has been underway for over two months; having entered this stage, Niu Dingtian's role is even greater than his, and he absolutely must not leave lightly.

Niu Dingtian's face remained expressionless; hearing this, he gave a slight nod and said calmly: "No problem. Just now my men outside the woods were calling for help; I'll trouble Mr. Zhang to make a trip, needing only to find an excuse to buy a little time."

"Before long reinforcements will arrive, and then they'll hold the outside as well. But after the swords come out of the furnace, hum, anyone looking for trouble won't get away!"

This place isn't far from Xiangyang City; not to mention that after Niu Kui leaves he'll leave people at the mountain base, even just rushing over from Xiangyang City for support wouldn't take long.

Thus he doesn't even need to go there himself. But the account still needs an entry, and later he'll have to collect each debt one by one.

"Then just stay here and peacefully conduct the blood‑refining; before the swords emerge from the furnace, nobody wants to cause a big commotion."

Zhang the Lame heard this, showed no hesitation, gave a slight nod, left a sentence, then rose and limped toward the back of the village.

……

Outside the bamboo grove, behind the wild village.

Seeing the signal rise into the air, Ouyang Ke's heart began to sink. This brat—beggar won't yield, ox‑nose won't yield, yet insists on opposing me?

Just as Niu Ben had thought, it goes without saying whose turf Woniu Zhai is now, and he naturally knows it very well in his heart.

But he merely wanted to take the opportunity to stir up trouble, to give the Divine Sect a bit of hassle.

Last year's nightmare still looms before his eyes; now that his divine skill is incomplete, how dare he directly confront that surnamed Niu?

A true man can bend and stretch,

Better to do less than more,

so he also pretended not to have heard.

"Click"—after snapping shut his folding fan, Ouyang Ke's bearing was calm, neither humble nor arrogant, as he smiled at Niu Ben: "Since several of you don't want to go back, I shouldn't press you further, lest we harm harmony."

Then his gaze lightly swept over Ma Yu, Lu Youjiao, and Juexing one by one, and he said with a grin: "However, Master Ma just said that as long as the weapons haven't left the furnace, even if the heavens fall, the forest is absolutely off‑limits. I suppose the Beggar Gang's Chief Lu and Shaolin's Master Juexing feel the same, so you all still need to communicate well."

Having said that, Ouyang Ke turned and retreated back, with a tall figure beside him shielding him; it was safer to stay behind.

"Damn thing!" Niu Ben cursed under his breath, then turned his gaze to Monk Juexing and said in a low voice: "Master Juexing, do you really intend to block us?"

That old monk—three years ago he had merely glanced from afar at the gate of Shaolin Temple; at the time, because his own skill was shallow, he felt nothing special.

But now he distinctly feels the opponent's deep and solid aura; among those present, his own cultivation is the highest!

Even so, he cannot retreat; the signal has been sent, the person has been shaken—this is no longer merely a matter of whether he can go in to look for someone.

His firmness or retreat represents the Divine Sect's firmness or retreat.

Just then——

From the bamboo grove nearby came a rustling of footsteps, and then Zhang the Lame's figure emerged from the woods, limping along.

Before anyone could clearly see his face, they heard him speak softly from a distance: "At the critical moment when the weapons leave the furnace, no slight disturbance can be tolerated; within a hundred steps of the sword furnace, no one may approach."

Having said that, without waiting for a reply, Zhang the Lame turned and prepared to leave.

The stakes have been laid out; sensible people know what to do—no need to waste more words.

Seeming to confirm his thought, upon hearing this Juexing stepped forward, hands clasped with a kind expression, and said: "Amitabha, Layman Zhang, your forging can move heaven and earth, surely you are a person of great talent and virtue; we will certainly not allow outsiders to disturb you."

"Old sir, have you seen two children in the woods?" Niu Ben, without wasting words, asked urgently: "My two young brothers, just over ten, have just disappeared; please let me go in to look for them."

Zhang the Lame heard this, stopped in his tracks, and without turning back said: "I haven't seen any child's trace in the bamboo grove; please look elsewhere."

Afterward, his limping figure vanished into the darkness.

"Finding Jing'er is urgent! Why waste words with them? This blind man wants to see how that old monk dares to keep outsiders out!"

Ke Zhen'e, having waited half a day and already anxious to the point of frenzy, finally could bear it no longer; after a furious shout he grabbed his iron staff and charged toward the bamboo grove.

"Hmph~ this poor monk wants to see how Layman Ke gets in!" Juexing's eyes flashed, then he glared angrily and shouted in a deep voice.

Immediately after, a mighty aura burst forth, and the Finger of No‑Form Tribulation shot instantly toward Ke Zhen'e, who had rushed toward the bamboo grove. (End of chapter)