Chapter 486: The Sword Cultivator Appears

“Brother Yan, you haven’t yet told me: is the reason so few disciples join the Sword Grinding Gate because the path of the sword cultivator is simply too difficult, or because those with sword cultivation talent are exceedingly rare?” Wang Yu, though surprised by the sheer number of True Disciples of the Azure Water Palace, still asked curiously.

“Wang friend, I can only say that possessing sword cultivation talent is merely the basic requirement to join the Sword Grinding Gate. To become a disciple, you must first be a madman; to become a true sword cultivator of our gate, you must be a madman among madmen.” Yan Lingxiang, as he spoke, seemed to recall something terrifying, and answered slowly.

“Brother Yan, isn’t that a bit exaggerated?” Wang Yu’s expression shifted slightly.

“Have you ever heard of a Foundation Establishment cultivator who, to test the sharpness of a newly forged flying sword, ventured alone deep into the heart of beast territory, slaughtered thirteen beast dens in succession, killed over a thousand beasts, and only barely escaped back to human lands with one breath left—his cultivation level already fallen?”

“Have you heard of a Golden Core cultivator who, to master a certain heartless sword technique, deliberately consumed vast quantities of Soul-Scattering Pills, erased every memory of his past life, completely forgot all his loved ones, then sealed himself away for a hundred years straight before finally emerging victorious?”

“Or even of a certain sword cultivator who, to forge a life-bound flying sword fused with his own flesh and blood, cut away strips of his own flesh and scraped off his bones daily as material to feed into the sword, continuing for eighty-one days straight—until nearly half his body was gone?” With each tale, Yan Lingxiang’s eyelid twitched involuntarily.

Wang Yu listened, his heart trembling, and asked hoarsely: “Did all these things really happen among Sword Grinding Gate sword cultivators?”

“What do you think?” Yan Lingxiang replied with a counter-question.

“I understand. Suddenly, I feel I must not have any sword cultivation talent at all.” After a moment of silence, Wang Yu forced a weak smile.

If becoming a sword cultivator meant becoming a madman, he had no desire whatsoever.

“I knew you were a smart disciple, Wang. If the path of the sword cultivator were truly easy, the Chaos Spirit Region would long ago have been the Sword Grinding Gate’s domain—where would the Azure Water Palace or the Spirit Puppet Sect stand?”

“True sword cultivators may often slay enemies above their rank, their combat prowess astonishing—but they are often warped by their life-bound flying swords, growing obsessive and addicted to the path of slaughter. Few among them meet a peaceful end.” The young man smiled at this, relieved.

Just as Wang Yu was about to nod and smile, a cold voice suddenly echoed from within the bone boat:

“Sword cultivators are obsessive, addicted to slaughter, and never meet a peaceful end!”

“Azure Water Palace brat, is that how those useless elders tell you young ones to think?”

“Who?”

Yan Lingxiang was startled, spinning around instantly.

There, at the stern of the bone boat, stood a black-robed young man—his face strikingly beautiful, almost feminine, yet his eyebrows like blades, his gaze icy.

Beside him stood another man, a short-bearded giant with a yellow wooden case on his back—it was none other than the head of the Sima Clan, who had parted from them only moments ago.

Now, this lord of a cultivation family merely offered the two a weak, pained smile before standing silently beside the black-robed youth, meek and obedient.

Wang Yu instinctively released his spiritual sense to scan the black-robed youth—and immediately recoiled, his body jolting as he hastily retracted his perception, bowing deeply: “Disciple Wang Yu pays homage to Elder.”

The black-robed youth’s aura was unfathomably deep—he was unmistakably a third-rank Golden Core cultivator, on par with the Heavenly Toad Ancestor.

“You… you’re Elder Luo of the Sword Grinding Gate! Disciple Yan Lingxiang bows before Elder Luo!” Yan Lingxiang, recognizing the youth’s face, nearly leapt from his seat as if his seat were on fire, bowing low, head pressed tightly against his chest, daring not to lift it even a fraction.

Hearing this, Wang Yu was startled once again.

This Golden Core cultivator was a sword cultivator of the Sword Grinding Gate—and they had just been discussing the sect’s sword path.

“Oh? You know me?” The black-robed youth asked indifferently.

“Disciple Yan Lingxiang. My grandfather is Yan Yuchai. I once met you briefly at your Golden Core celebration, alongside my grandfather.” Yan Lingxiang replied, his face pale, beads of sweat faintly forming on his forehead.

“Ah, the Yan family brat. Your grandfather’s strength was decent—he could even take a few of my swords. But you’re no longer young, and you haven’t even reached Foundation Establishment’s peak. You’ve lost any chance of claiming the Azure Water Palace’s True Disciple position.” The black-robed youth spoke without expression.

“Disciple’s talent is dull; I never dared dream of the True Disciple position.” Yan Lingxiang forced a thin smile, answering cautiously.

“Heh. Whether your talent is dull or not, I don’t care—but your knack for spreading rumors is impressive.”

“Remember this well: when I forged my life-bound flying sword, I didn’t spend eighty-one days—only seventy-one. Because by then, I had only my head left; everything below my neck had been fed into the sword.” The black-robed youth suddenly laughed.

But that laugh alone turned Yan Lingxiang’s face deathly white—and sent a chill straight up Wang Yu’s spine.

The Golden Core cultivator before them was none other than the protagonist of Yan Lingxiang’s final tale—the monstrous soul who carved his own bones to forge his sword!

Wang Yu instantly clamped his mouth shut, not daring to breathe.

Sweat poured down Yan Lingxiang’s forehead. With a loud “plop,” he collapsed to his knees before the black-robed youth, banging his head three times hard on the deck—then raised his head, voice trembling as he begged:

“Elder Luo, spare my life! Everything I said before was nonsense, mere idle words! I promise, once I return, I’ll never gossip again!”

If he had offended a Golden Core cultivator from another sect, Yan Lingxiang wouldn’t be this terrified—but the Sword Grinding Gate’s Golden Core sword cultivators were notoriously lawless. They might simply take a dislike to him and cut him down on the spot.

And even if the Azure Water Palace’s high elders learned of it, they’d likely only argue with the madmen, demand compensation—and he’d still be dead. Dead and gone.

But this was the Azure Water Palace’s territory—why was this Sword Grinding Gate Golden Core sword cultivator here? Did he have some connection to the Sima Clan head beside him?

Even as fear gripped him, Yan Lingxiang felt a strange unease.

“Heh. Don’t be afraid. I’ve had some ties with your grandfather Yan Yuchai. I won’t kill you just for a few unpleasant words. But as a small punishment—stay kneeling. Remain on your knees until I leave.”

The black-robed youth chuckled, then ignored Yan Lingxiang entirely, his gaze settling on Wang Yu with a flicker of interest.

“Kid, from your earlier talk, you seem quite interested in the sword cultivator path. Would you like to join the Sword Grinding Gate? Become one of our disciples, and you might one day become a true sword cultivator. But first, you must possess at least one of the three gifts: Sword Body, Sword Bone, or Sword Meridians. After all, the Sword Grinding Gate doesn’t take mediocrities.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the black-robed youth slapped the back of his head.

A sharp, clear “clang!” rang out from behind his skull.

The sound was crisp, yet carried within it an indescribable metallic, martial aura.