Chapter 258: Dominant Sword Seeks Master, Forum Legend

"Three thousand years have passed; at last, I have found a suitable one who can bear the edge of my blade. Touch the hilt, and you shall gain the power to create heaven and earth... if you have the courage."

A torrent of malevolent energy surged toward him, and a domineering voice echoed at his ear.

But Qiao Wu thought the Dominant Sword was an idiot.

It felt like a con artist still frantically writing a script, while he, as the audience, had already read the ending.

He noticed Qiao Wu was still observing him, yet made no move.

Suddenly, the Dominant Sword trembled, and light and shadow swirled around its blade.

Countless shocking scenes unfolded in rapid succession like a revolving lantern.

In the first scene, on a hellish battlefield, the Dominant Sword pierced through a primordial demonic dragon a thousand meters long.

Its blood poured like a celestial river, each drop corroding the ground into bottomless pits.

The sword-wielder stood atop the dragon’s head; with a single turn of the blade, the entire continental plate cracked open, spewing magma that formed new mountain ranges.

The scene shifted to the depths of the stars, where the Dominant Sword hovered amid shattered star rivers.

Around its blade orbited six severed stars, their blazing stellar cores wrapped like tamed pets around the edge.

Then the Dominant Sword slashed downward, cleaving a terrifying cosmic beast cleanly in two, its wound smooth as a mirror.

The scene shifted again: at the center of an ancient altar, billions of warriors knelt, while the sword-wielder stood atop the peak, cleaving through the clouds with a single strike, lightning coiling around the blade.

Then, in a flash of movement, the sword-wielder clashed with a golden divine statue that stretched from earth to heaven.

Each collision shook heaven and earth; eventually, the statue’s head was severed, dissolving into a billion meteor showers as the divine blood staining the blade was magnified within the vision.

All scenes were accompanied by a soul-striking sword hum, and as Qiao Wu watched, he constantly felt a whisper at his ear:

"Grasp me... and you shall possess all this... command supreme power."

But thinking of the truth, he couldn’t help but sneer.

Hearing Qiao Wu’s laugh, the surrounding images of the Dominant Sword instantly vanished.

"Poor little thing, your frozen fingers can’t even hold a weapon properly? Don’t worry—I’ll warm your palms."

"You’re faking your mom," Qiao Wu mentally muttered.

Though this broken weapon had a Hunting Rank of 103, in Qiao Wu’s eyes, even bringing it back to his village would only make it a transitional tool.

Far inferior to the rune-resonance weapons forged in his own village.

The only real value lay in its materials, and the massive evolution points and sacrificial power gained upon slaying it.

But the problem was—he clearly lacked the strength to slay the Dominant Sword.

Even if it stood still, he couldn’t break its defense.

His primary Nascent Soul was the Hawk-Head Demon.

In a real fight, he’d only take hits, and he’d be sent back to the village for an hour in the dark cell.

Continuing to play along with the Dominant Sword’s act was pointless.

The Dominant Sword drew power from its host’s suffering, and Qiao Wu hated pain—both physical and mental.

Enduring suffering during this performance would be unbearable.

As an Explorer player, his greatest joy came from exploration; combat and killing were counterproductive. What use was this Dominant Sword to him?

Thinking of this, Qiao Wu ignored the Dominant Sword and began pondering how to profit from it.

At that moment, a sudden insight flashed through his mind.

The Dominant Sword fed on suffering.

Speaking of suffering, he couldn’t help but think of the Pain Brothers from his village.

Though quiet, these two were far from obscure on the forum, especially among veteran players.

He had studied them while browsing early popular threads.

Their fame dated back exactly one year.

When the Alchemist Society was first founded, to extract profit from players, they developed the first-generation gene seeds.

Their debut sparked heated debate on the forum.

Back then, veteran players didn’t have the abundance of functions available now; the Skill Training system hadn’t even launched yet.

There were only three ways to gain Body Strengthening experience.

The first was physical exercise, yielding negligible Body Strengthening experience—practically useless.

The second was converting sacrificial power into Body Strengthening experience at a 1:1 ratio, which was expensive.

The third was consuming spiritual plants, the most luxurious method in veterans’ eyes; back then, there were no spiritual food meals, and many players chose this route just to savor the taste of spiritual plants, at great cost.

But the appearance of gene seeds gave players a way to save sacrificial power while gaining Body Strengthening experience.

Each gene seed then yielded approximately 15% extra Body Strengthening experience over its base cost.

Unfortunately, the first-generation gene seeds had severe side effects.

Consumption caused serious bodily damage.

The worst part was the intense agony induced after ingestion—worse than death itself.

Especially after one player bought and consumed them, then raged on the forum, veterans dared not risk the extreme pain of gene seeds.

But two players were exceptions.

They were, in veterans’ eyes, two of the early legends of the forum.

To save on sacrificial power, their behavior was the epitome of toughness—they endured the pain and consumed gene seeds head-on.

They aimed to gain a growth advantage, outpacing other players.

At the time, due to certain forum comments, they once said: "If the profit isn’t enough, make up for it with volume. You think we’re fools? How much do you earn killing evil spirits? I earn more Body Strengthening experience from one gene seed than you do from a whole day of killing evil spirits."

This behavior earned them the forum nicknames Gene Beast, Gene Superman, and Pain Brothers—truly the chosen ones of the Damage-Taker playstyle.

The Pain Brothers were also the first two players in the player faction to obtain a special Nascent Soul.

They possessed the ability to release Pain Touch, dealing true damage.

In the days that followed, they rarely appeared on the forum.

But their stories continued to circulate.

Now, as the Dominant Sword sought a host, Qiao Wu instantly realized these two brothers were a perfect match.

With this idea, he immediately summoned the forum interface and began searching for the brothers’ contact details.

Meanwhile, noticing Qiao Wu’s persistent silence, the Dominant Sword’s patience wore thin:

"Boy, I’ve slept for three thousand years. To be chosen by me is a rare fortune in your lifetime—will you really abandon it?"

Qiao Wu heard the Dominant Sword’s voice like a weary elder sighing, regretful for him.

As he spoke, the snow surrounding the blade melted silently, revealing the frostbitten, pockmarked earth beneath; the cracks along the blade’s spine opened like blood-red eyes, staring at Qiao Wu.

The light from those blood-red eyes projected an image into Qiao Wu’s vision.

A figure resembling Qiao Wu stood holding a sword; where its light passed, mountains and rivers changed color, the sun and moon lost their radiance.

"I see your exceptional talent, yet you are bound by mortal chains. The opportunity has come—why not...?"

Before he finished, Qiao Wu, exasperated by the Dominant Sword’s endless empty promises, sighed:

"Hold on, I’ve got something unfinished."

Saying this, Qiao Wu, having found the Pain Brothers’ contact, sent a friend request.

Shortly after, the request was accepted; Qiao Wu quickly opened the chat window:

Click to skip plot: Are you the Pain Brothers? Are you there?

Who’s hitting me: What do you want? (Explorer confused.jpg)

Click to skip plot: Bro, here’s the deal—I’m an Explorer player. While exploring the Frostwinter Snowfield, I encountered a rare opportunity, but I’m clearly not worthy of it. I figured you Pain Brothers could handle it. Now the Dominant Sword wants to bond with a host, but I hate pain... so I came to contact you specifically, hoping to sell you this opportunity. (Screenshot of Dominant Sword analysis.)

Who’s hitting me: (t^t) Why do you think of us whenever you hear “pain”? Still, this opportunity does look appealing. Name your price, bro. Don’t screw us—we’ve got no team, no real-world wealth, just hard-earned labor. Don’t treat us like pigs.

Click to skip plot: How about 25,000 sacrificial power? You might earn ten or even a hundred times that back later—this is a rare hidden quest.

Who’s hitting me: Bro, you’re really trying to rip us off. Twenty-five thousand? Do you know how many credit points that is? That’s a ridiculous offer.

Click to skip plot: Don’t you have the legacy from the Ascetic Elder?

Who’s hitting me: We spent every last bit of the old man’s legacy over half a year ago. We’re broke now. If the price’s too high, we won’t buy.

Click to skip plot: Fine, I’ll drop to 25,000. Lower than that, I’ll just grit my teeth and take the blade myself and keep the hidden quest. Think about it—you triggered a hidden quest before and got a special Nascent Soul plus the Ascetic Elder’s legacy. Now another chance is right in front of you. Don’t waste it.

Who’s hitting me: Alright, 25,000. We’ll take the quest first, then transfer. Give us coordinates.

Click to skip plot: Frostwinter Snowfield (coordinates).

After the deal was sealed, Qiao Wu’s Iron Face betrayed clear delight.

But to the Dominant Sword, his smile meant he’d finally recognized its allure.

The Dominant Sword was about to speak, when Qiao Wu suddenly grew solemn:

"Sorry, I don’t like swords."

Hearing this, the Dominant Sword’s fury surged.

It was severely wounded; to seduce this weak creature, it had even expended blood energy to weave illusions.

And now it was rejected.

This was the first time it had seen a weak creature look at it without a trace of greed—even, it felt, a hint of contempt.

Anger flared, and instantly, it decided to kill.

If this weak creature refused, its only value was to become its nourishment.

Just as the Dominant Sword prepared to strike, Qiao Wu smiled and spoke:

"But I can find you a more suitable host—I guarantee you’ll be satisfied."

“What do you think I am?!” The sword’s hum rang like thunder, shattering the surrounding ice crystals into tinkling fragments.

“A scrap of rusted iron picked off the roadside? Or a dull, obedient tool to be manipulated at will?!”

The cracks along the blade’s spine swelled like veins, dark red light surging wildly, as if ready to erupt in a fatal strike at any moment.

But such threats meant nothing to Qiaowu.

The only thing he feared was one thing: having come all this way, if he got locked in the black room again, he’d have to start over.

Yet to stabilize the Ba Jian, Qiaowu immediately spoke up:

“He is my clansman, burdened with a blood feud, desperate for power—I believe you two are a far better match.”

Upon hearing “blood feud” and “desperate for power,” the malevolent aura on the Ba Jian’s surface suddenly dissipated.

Though inwardly moved, Qiaowu still maintained his lofty tone:

“Hmph. A mere mortal body? Do you think the Master would deign to accommodate you?”

“But… if what you say is true—that this man bears a blood feud and possesses unyielding resolve—then perhaps the Master might consider him.”

Realizing the Ba Jian was swayed, Qiaowu’s Iron Face lit up with a grin:

“Wait here for me. I’ll go fetch my clansman to meet you.”

“Agreed.”

Hearing the Ba Jian’s acceptance, Qiaowu exhaled a sigh of relief.

He’d assigned the hidden quest to Tongku Brother; whether it would succeed, he had no certainty—he feared it might end prematurely.

With the Ba Jian’s clear answer, his mood instantly surged with excitement.

This meant 25,000 sacrificial power was secured—he could enjoy spiritual cuisine daily for the foreseeable future.

With joy in his heart, Qiaowu summoned his dazzling hoverboard and shot straight into the sky.

Watching Qiaowu’s retreating figure, the Ba Jian grew wary.

One possibility loomed: the man intended to deceive it, returning to his clan to summon reinforcements.

But upon closer thought, this possibility seemed unlikely.

If he truly meant to betray it, he could simply have seized the blade temporarily and carried it back to his clan.

Regardless, it decided it must prepare to flee at any moment.

Its internal energy was nearly depleted—it had only one chance to escape.

Yet one question still eluded it.

Why had this weakling abandoned the blade, even after witnessing its mental seduction and power display?

Could there truly exist a sentient being that did not crave power?

Meanwhile, Qiaowu, having departed, reconnected with Tongku Brother and explained the situation.

On the other side.

Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng were browsing forums in the black room.

They weren’t unwilling to rush to claim the hidden quest—they simply couldn’t reach it quickly. Even with a transport vehicle, the journey would take a day and a half.

So they chose the fastest route: the Black Room Express, bound directly for Emperor Tomb Village.

After an hour’s wait, they respawned at Emperor Tomb Village’s teleport point and immediately jumped through the portal to the Frostwind Snowfield.

After contacting Qiaowu and sending a team request, they set off immediately.

This journey was long—even with a flying sword vehicle, it would take half a day.

After a prolonged flight through biting winds, they landed on a snowfield.

Far off, they saw Qiaowu seated cross-legged atop an ice boulder, a steaming hot pot before him.

“Perfect timing,” Qiaowu grinned, plucking a slice of meat with his chopsticks and waving them at them. “Last two slices of Heaven-Sea Carp—wait any longer and they’re gone.”

Jiang Cheng’s lip twitched.

They’d trudged through dust and snow, and this guy was hotpotting in the frozen wastes.

Clearly, he was certain the 25,000 sacrificial power was already in the bag.

“Let’s go. No time for meals,” Jiang Cheng snapped.

After briefly outlining the plan, Qiaowu led Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng to a snow-encircled ice valley.

At the valley’s center, a dark red broken sword was plunged obliquely into the frozen earth, its swirling crimson malevolence stark against the falling snow.

“That’s the thing—feeds on its host. How the plot unfolds is up to you. Just remember what I said: it thrives on pain.”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng turned to his brother Xia Sheng:

“Prodigal son, wait here. Your old man’s going in.”

“Why not me take the sword and you wait here?”

“Mine is yours. When I die, everything I own is yours.” With that, Jiang Cheng strode toward the Ba Jian.

Behind him, Xia Sheng raised his middle finger.

The Ba Jian had sensed Jiang Cheng’s approach and trembled.

Jiang Cheng stepped forward and stood still before the blade, his voice low and steady:

“I need power!”

At once, a thin red mist surfaced on Xia Sheng’s body.

The blood runes on the Ba Jian flared brightly—it sensed the young man’s suffocating agony, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

This was precisely the host it had long desired.

Judging by his bloodline strength and spiritual power, this man posed no threat.

Coupled with his buried, boundless rage and suffering, he was the perfect crucible.

“Fascinating. But why do you think the Master will choose you?”

Jiang Cheng lifted his head and replied in a hoarse voice:

“Because I’m willing to give up anything—soul? Life? Take whatever you want.”

As he spoke, Jiang Cheng reached out and grasped the hilt.

The Ba Jian did not resist.

As his grip tightened, a blinding crimson light erupted from the hilt—a barbed spike drove deep into Jiang Cheng’s palm. His blood had not yet dripped before being fully absorbed by the blade.

Simultaneously, a portion of the Ba Jian’s power surged into Jiang Cheng’s body, coursing through his veins.

“Contract established. You now wield the blade.”

The Ba Jian rapidly shrank, adjusting to Jiang Cheng’s stature, its inner core emitting a greedy chuckle.

But the chuckle ended abruptly.

It could not read Jiang Cheng’s thoughts.

The rule-derived energy implanted within Jiang Cheng could only detect his blood flow.

Frustrated, the Ba Jian assumed it had encountered a host whose physiology was incompatible.

Such cases were rare in the Divine Artifact Clan’s history—but they had occurred.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng raised the Ba Jian in his hand, studying the malevolent weapon beneath the aurora.

Though reduced to one and a half meters in length, the malevolent aura radiating from its surface remained unchanged. The dark red runes crawled slowly along the spine like living things, glowing with an eerie luster.

The edge was not sharp; it was riddled with fine cracks, evidence of severe prior damage.

Jiang Cheng’s lips curled slightly. He flipped his wrist, pointing the tip downward, and planted the Ba Jian into the snow like a walking cane.

This enraged the Ba Jian—but it remained silent.

There would be plenty of time for revenge later.

Next, it needed to learn the host’s full details, then devise a series of tortures—until he shattered completely, dying in despair.

Second, the most urgent priority was restoring its power.

It immediately informed Jiang Cheng: it wished to be carried to hunt bloodline lifeforms, to repair its damaged blade.

When Jiang Cheng asked why the blade was damaged, the Ba Jian’s answer made him roll his eyes.

The blade trembled slightly, emitting a deep, resonant hum—as if lost in some ancient memory:

“In my prime, I once cleaved the Demon Sea in a single strike, my aura stretching thirty thousand li…”

The blood runes along its spine pulsed, projecting a hazy image into the air.

Faintly visible: a blade of light severing sea and sky amid towering waves.

“As for this wound—it was inflicted during a battle with a supreme being. That clash shattered seven minor worlds. Though I severed his head, I was wounded by his primordial demonic flame. My previous host perished as a result…”

Listening to the Ba Jian’s tale, Jiang Cheng sneered inwardly.

This damn sword was at it again.

With the analysis function aiding him, he could guess how the previous host died with his toes.

Most likely, he’d been tricked to death by this treacherous piece of junk.

Having successfully bonded with the blade, Jiang Cheng promptly fulfilled his promise, transferring 25,000 sacrificial power to Qiaowu via trade.

The transaction complete, Qiaowu departed on his hoverboard with a grin. Jiang Cheng, meanwhile, began anticipating the next phase of the hidden quest.

At that moment, Xia Sheng approached from afar and asked curiously over voice channel:

“Prodigal son, what’s the situation?”

“We’ve technically bonded—but it’s all a facade. There’s no challenger prompt. The rune-resonant weapon is our true, absolute bond. This blade’s binding is just a trick to gain the host’s trust—meaningless.”

Hearing Jiang Cheng’s reply, Xia Sheng also looked disgruntled:

“Won’t we lose money?”

“No way. First, let’s see how this damn blade plans to grow. If it doesn’t satisfy us, I’ll make it experience ultimate pain—then kill it, dismantle it, and sell the materials on the trading market. Over 100 hunting levels? We won’t lose a cent.”

"Count me in when you kill—combine the two pains, and it’ll be a true strike that slays gods and demons."

In the team channel’s brief exchange, the Pain Brothers had already preset the future path for the severely wounded Ba Jian.

If you have utility, you live; if not, you must die in agony and despair.

At this moment, Ba Jian, seeing Xia Sheng approaching, felt deep curiosity and asked in a low voice:

"Who is this?"

"My best brother—we grew up together, practically brothers despite different fathers and mothers," Jiang Cheng immediately explained.

"It seems your bond is very strong."

"Of course it is. Besides our wives, we share everything in this life."

Hearing Jiang Cheng’s answer, Ba Jian bared its fangs in its heart—a wicked plan was born in its mind.

"A strong bond is good."

The deeper the bond, the greater the pain when it’s lost—especially at the moment you kill your beloved brother with your own hands!

Recalling the image of the previous host sobbing desperately in the rain while clutching "Li Zheng," it felt this time it would feast once more on a banquet of negative emotions.

(End of Chapter)