Chapter 259: Desperate Tyrant Sword: Pain and Joy

Winter Snowfield.

Amidst the swirling snow, Jiang Cheng carried the Tyrant Sword on his back as he and Xia Sheng pressed forward against the wind and snow.

The vast plain before them was swallowed by endless whiteness; the wild wind roared like a beast, sweeping across the land, its sharp howl screaming in their ears.

As far as the eye could see, there was only a boundless expanse of white; staring at such monotonous colors for too long, Jiang Cheng felt waves of aesthetic fatigue rising in his heart.

Compared to the Colorful Mist Coast and the Senluo Forest Realm, the only sights worth admiring in the Winter Snowfield were the star-studded night sky and the ethereal, colorful auroras.

Along the way, the Tyrant Sword repeatedly asked about their past.

Jiang Cheng had long been prepared for this.

Before arriving, he had already fabricated their character backgrounds and stories.

"So, only the three of you remain from your clan?" the Tyrant Sword's hoarse voice rang out beside them.

Jiang Cheng's steps paused slightly, the snow crunching beneath his feet; suppressing the urge to laugh, he took a deep breath and nodded:

"Our Heavenly Fire Clan was once a divine race within a minor world, wielding the power of Heavenly Fire and ruling over hundreds of races... but now, after descending into the Monster World, we were persecuted by external forces, causing us..." Jiang Cheng's voice gradually lowered, a trace of pain surfacing in his eyes.

The Painful Soul within his Star Vein Slot activated simultaneously, allowing the Tyrant Sword to sense the extreme suppression in Jiang Cheng's heart.

However, since this negative emotion was not generated by itself, it could not absorb any power from it, leaving it somewhat regretful.

In its eyes, Jiang Cheng was currently a nearly perfect host.

A blood feud, a desire to grow stronger, and unyielding will... especially that unyielding will; only despair born from the firmest resolve could serve as the most delicious nutrient for growth.

Xia Sheng, walking beside him, tightened his black cloak at that moment; glancing at Jiang Cheng, he said with a sorrowful expression:

"Brother, the past cannot be changed; now we can only move forward."

"No, we must seek revenge!" Jiang Cheng declared firmly, raising his head to gaze at the aurora in the sky, as if the swirling snow could not block the belief of vengeance burning in his heart.

The Tyrant Sword trembled slightly on Jiang Cheng's back; while satisfied with Jiang Cheng's resolve, it also felt touched by these words and spoke:

"This world is precisely so cruel; though it possesses boundless heaven and earth, it resembles a colossal graveyard, burying the corpses of gods from countless minor worlds."

"Those gods who once stood supreme in their own realms, believing they could rule all, became nutrients for stronger beings upon arriving here; yet, it is within this extremely cruel environment that opportunities capable of allowing a weak race to defy heaven and change its fate are nurtured, along with endless resources and wealth, attracting countless races to descend one after another."

Speaking thus, the Tyrant Sword seemed to recall something; after a brief silence, it continued:

"But what brings a race the most despair in this world is not the hardships encountered during growth, but the endless path of climbing; when your race, having endured countless difficulties, finally climbs to a new step and looks down upon weaker races below with joy, believing itself strong enough, a mere glance upward will reveal, to your horror, that countless powerful races still tower above, any single one of which could easily annihilate your entire clan."

"Every step upward is the same; there will always be weak races looking up to you and strong races looking down upon you; every growth achieved with all one's might, seemingly making tremendous progress, is in reality merely an insignificant small step on this endless ladder of power; the road ahead is long and endless."

After this sigh of emotion, the Tyrant Sword changed the subject:

"By the way, which specific force annihilated your clan... rest assured, as long as I am here, I will surely avenge you."

Facing the inquiry, Jiang Cheng replied without hesitation:

"That force is called the Black Black Tide; it possesses the ability to generate evil spirits and devour all things; the moment our Heavenly Fire Clan descended into the Monster World, we were... by this vile evil force; in that battle, our clan's experts resisted to the death, but were ultimately overwhelmed by superior numbers, and our clansmen..." Speaking to this point, Jiang Cheng's voice began to choke.

Xia Sheng, standing nearby, suppressed his laughter, his mouth twitching as he patted Jiang Cheng's shoulder to comfort him, while angrily scolding in the team channel:

"Unfilial son, stop pretending! Your father here is about to burst out laughing; the mission is going to fail, so get a hold of yourself!"

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng immediately fell silent, fearing Xia Sheng might actually laugh out loud.

If he laughed while recounting a blood feud from the past, the Tyrant Sword would surely suspect the story was fake.

To make the emotions more realistic, Jiang Cheng clenched his fist as he spoke, actively releasing the Power of Pain to simulate fluctuations of extreme anguish.

Instantly, this wave of painful emotion was detected by the Tyrant Sword.

However, upon hearing the words "Black Black Tide," the Tyrant Sword was stunned.

The blood patterns on the sword hilt began to flicker brightly and dimly; Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng, who mastered the Power of Pain, were extremely sensitive to emotional fluctuations and instantly detected the fear emanating from the Tyrant Sword.

The reality was indeed so.

Existing within the Monster World, the Tyrant Sword naturally knew of the famous Black Black Tide.

In its eyes, this was a terrifying calamity that had devoured countless worlds, a taboo force capable of even devouring the laws of the world itself.

The Artifact Race to which it belonged had encountered the Black Black Tide several years ago.

It had personally witnessed an Evil Spirit Warrior under the Black Black Tide's command start from weakness and, within an extremely short time, master power surpassing that of the Artifact Race.

The situation at that time was that the Artifacts had been engaged in a years-long stalemate with a powerful force.

The Artifact Race occupied the resource lands to the north of the region, while the powerful race occupied the resource lands to the south; both sides erupted into war to seize more resources and territory.

However, during the confrontation, an Evil Spirit of the Black Black Tide descended, generating a black tower in the direction south of where the powerful race was located.

In its initial stage, the Black Black Tide's combat strength was not strong.

But its growth speed was rapid; it constantly devoured nearby resource lands, the black Black Tide ravaging the earth, and soon launched a challenge against the Artifact Race's powerful enemy.

The war progressed in a manner where one rose as the other fell; the rise of the Black Black Tide was unstoppable.

By the time the Artifact Race's powerful enemy realized something was wrong and shifted all its core forces from fighting the Artifacts to combating the Black Black Tide, it had already lost any chance of turning the Black Tide.

Ultimately, the Black Black Tide devoured the Artifact Race's powerful enemy, and the terrifying black Black Tide began to spread toward the territory where the Artifact Race resided.

Having witnessed the Black Black Tide's rapid rise and its terrifying war potential, its own clan did not hesitate even for a moment.

It decisively chose to retreat, abandoning vast stretches of resource territory, unwilling to have any contact with the Black Black Tide legions.

Even though this was merely an insignificant small branch of the Black Black Tide legions.

But without absolute overwhelming combat strength, the outcome of becoming its enemy was destined to be becoming nutrients.

Using war to fuel war, devouring all things, infinite growth, all-system troop types... every rule-based ability mastered by the Black Black Tide legion warriors was an existence bordering on invincibility.

It seemed that from the moment of its birth, the very meaning of the Black Black Tide's existence was to destroy everything.

Furthermore, the growth potential of any random Evil Spirit Warrior pulled from the Black Black Tide legions was something the Artifact Race could not compare to.

To oppose it meant only destruction.

But naturally, it could not tell these words to Jiang Cheng, its new host.

"Cough... heh, so it was the Black Black Tide." The Tyrant Sword feigned calmness, humming in a deliberately relaxed manner:

"Merely a filthy thing that devours worlds for food; this sword has slain similar things in the past."

But while speaking these words, Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng keenly detected the emotional fluctuations emanating from the Tyrant Sword, and this emotion was called: Fear.

Merely hearing the name caused uncontrollable trembling; this filled the two of them with contempt.

In comparison, the old man, also at his peak with over level 100, was the true powerhouse.

A single strike of true damage transmission, crossing endless legions of evil spirits, beheading a Black Black Tide Evil Spirit.

The Tyrant Sword's courage was not even worthy of holding shoes for the old man.

"Rest assured, once I recover my combat strength, I will definitely help you exterminate the Black Black Tide," the Tyrant Sword affirmed once again.

The corner of Jiang Cheng's mouth curled up imperceptibly; he did not expose it directly.

Let it pretend!

But the prerequisite for continuing to act cool was being able to provide value to them.

A Tyrant Sword without value deserved only to be listed on the Trading Row, allowing them to earn a sum of material fees to offset the expenses incurred when accepting the mission.

After traveling for a distance, they found a hunting target.

A white bear, standing two meters tall, was digging for food in the snow; a scan analysis revealed its hunting level was 17.

This was a species unique to the Winter Snowfield region, very suitable for novice hunting, and posed absolutely no threat to Jiang Cheng.

"Make your move; I need qi and blood energy for healing," the Tyrant Sword urged.

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng immediately rushed toward the white bear.

Upon approaching the bear, he flicked his wrist, and the Tyrant Sword on his back landed precisely in his hand, its blade instantly piercing through the white bear's throat.

Before the scalding blood could splash out, the white bear's body began to twist eerily, finally dissipating into wisps of black mist amidst the wind and snow, leaving not even a trace behind.

But from the Tyrant Sword's perspective, after the white bear's body shriveled, it vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving behind only a patch of black powder on the ground.

"What is going on?!"

The Tyrant Sword trembled in Jiang Cheng's hand, the blood groove on the blade opening and closing hungrily:

"Where is the essence blood?"

It could confirm this was a flesh-and-blood type lifeform, not an elemental type, nor a mental type... at the moment of being killed, blood gushing from the throat was visible, yet after death, it had vanished eerily.

This was the first time it had ever encountered such a bizarre phenomenon.

However, the instigator of all this, Jiang Cheng, remained utterly calm.

How could he not know what this broken sword was thinking?

If the broken sword recovered its strength, it would be difficult to subdue it later.

Therefore, when slaying the white bear, he had applied the "Tear" characteristic.

After coming into contact with the rule characteristics of the player system, it was impossible for the Tyrant Sword to absorb any qi and blood energy.

"Tyrant Sword, how much strength have you recovered?"

Jiang Cheng asked with a smile.

"Not enough; I need you to continue hunting monsters, and then I will feed power back to you."

"No problem." Jiang Cheng nodded decisively, though in his heart he felt contempt.

As a player, how could the growth feedback obtained from hunting compare to the impure energy feedback absorbed by the broken sword?

If he truly wanted to grow, why would he need to bring this broken sword?

His current behavior was merely to advance the plot and see which direction the story would go if the Tyrant Sword could not absorb power.

Hidden missions in the Monster World had never had restrictions; they could develop in any way one wished.

Three hours later.

The Tyrant Sword fell into despair.

No matter what creature Jiang Cheng, wielding the sword, killed, it could not absorb even a tiny bit of energy.

But in order to stabilize Jiang Cheng, it could only claim it had absorbed energy, that efforts were bearing fruit, and that it was recovering.

After a long while, having slain several more monsters, the Tyrant Sword still had not absorbed a shred of energy, yet it stubbornly continued its charade.

Such a bizarre phenomenon led the Tyrant Sword to consider a possibility.

When it had previously passed a battlefield, a purple-skinned evil spirit had suddenly appeared and struck it with a palm, causing the blade to snap.

It was highly likely that strike had attached some force that permeated the sword body, preventing it from normally absorbing qi and blood energy.

It was precisely this latent attached energy that caused the slain monsters to rapidly wither and dissipate.

In reality, it was the force the purple-skinned evil spirit had inflicted upon itself that caused this.

Yet it detected no unknown force within its own body.

If this was the truth, it did not even know how to break free.

From then on, with every monster Jiang Cheng slew, the Tyrant Sword silently prayed in its heart for a miracle, yet reality crushed its hopes time and again.

Watching Jiang Cheng strike repeatedly, the anxiety in the Tyrant Sword's heart grew like a rolling snowball.

It began to tremble slightly in Jiang Cheng's hand with increasing frequency, its emotions gradually losing balance.

It could not understand; it had thoroughly inspected the sword body, confirmed no external force existed, yet still found nothing.

But throughout it all, the Tyrant Sword never suspected Jiang Cheng.

Aside from Jiang Cheng's weak strength, it simply detected no flow of energy disappearing from the monsters' bodies.

Just then, Jiang Cheng, having slain another monster, looked down at it with a puzzled expression and said:

"Tyrant Sword, I have hunted over a hundred monsters, why have I not received any power feedback? Didn't you say each hunt would feedback a portion of power to me?"

Facing this inquiry, the Tyrant Sword realized Jiang Cheng was gradually losing patience.

If it could not prove its value, Jiang Cheng might abandon wielding the sword.

The Tyrant Sword explained at this moment:

"My strength has not yet recovered, so I cannot temporarily feedback power to you, but perhaps I can first assist you in cultivating a special technique, allowing your strength to gain a significant boost."

"Alright." Jiang Cheng nodded, expectation rising in his heart.

"Next, I will assist you in circulating the technique; the process will be very painful, so prepare yourself."

"Bring it on."

Hearing the process would be painful, Jiang Cheng paid it no mind.

His main cultivation was the Painful Soul; gene seeds, poisonous baths, bodily torture... what had he not experienced? He was quite looking forward to how much Painful Soul experience the Tyrant Sword's pain could bring him.

Hearing Jiang Cheng agree, the Tyrant Sword bared its fangs in its heart.

Although it pained it to spend energy soon, thinking it could extract rule-derivative energy feedback from Jiang Cheng's pain gave it renewed expectation.

The Tyrant Sword detached from Jiang Cheng at this moment, hovering above the crown of his head; the blood-red gem at the sword's tail opened like an eye, turning into red particles that poured into Jiang Cheng from above.

"Kid, endure it; the first circulation will inevitably be very painful..."

"Aaaargh!" A shrill scream instantly rang out.

"I haven't even started yet, why are you screaming?" the Tyrant Sword asked in astonishment.

"Sorry, please continue," Jiang Cheng said with slight embarrassment.

Just now, sensing his qi and blood churning inside, he had subconsciously started acting, thinking this was the pain the Tyrant Sword mentioned, only to realize it had not even begun.

The Tyrant Sword then manipulated rule-derivative energy, circulating it along specific pathways within Jiang Cheng's body.

Instantly, it felt as though hundreds of venomous snakes were writhing beneath his skin, occasionally raising swollen lumps; his originally pitch-black pupils were occupied by blood-red glows, fine blood veins cracking at the corners of his eyes like shattered porcelain glaze.

Intense agony surged instantly.

But... it seemed bearable.

Although he had turned his pain perception up to 100%, this pain still fell far short compared to the old man's special potions.

Just then, Challenger prompts rang consecutively in his mind:

[Challenger Prompt: Absorbing artifact rule-derivative energy, gaining Body Tempering Experience +98... +98 points... +98 points.]

[Challenger Prompt: Enduring pain, Painful Touch (Soul) gains growth experience +120 points...]

The prompts constantly ringing in his mind made Jiang Cheng feel instantly delighted.

Improving the Painful Soul was not easy.

As a special soul, it could not gain growth through hunting, only by enduring pain to achieve improvement.

But after trying ordinary pain too many times, the experience gained shrunk significantly.

The Alchemist Guild no longer produced the first-generation version of gene seeds, making it difficult to find sources of pain.

They could only study the "Pain Manual" left behind by the old man, learning how to make poisonous potions, using this method to assist the Painful Soul's growth.

But purchasing spiritual plants was a considerable expense.

Now, the pain experience brought by the Tyrant Sword consuming its own rule energy was completely free; freeloading brought only joy.

But the act had to continue.

He first widened his eyes fiercely, feigning agony, forcing a heart-rending scream from deep in his throat, then his body began to shake violently, his hands tightly clutching the clothes over his chest to vent this "pain."

Immediately after, Jiang Cheng's legs went soft, and his whole person toppled toward the ground; while falling, he did not forget to heavily bang his elbow against the ice layer beside him, emitting a dull thud, while mumbling incoherently with his mouth.

His forehead quickly became covered with fine beads of sweat.

But these sweat beads were forced out from within his body by circulating his Gang Qi characteristic, rolling down his cheeks, exactly like cold sweat seeping out due to excruciating pain.

As the Tyrant Sword continued outputting rule energy, Jiang Cheng's performance became even more vigorous.

He began rolling back and forth on the ground, each roll deliberately smashing his body against the ice layer, creating "thump-thump" sounds.

His facial muscles constantly twisted during this process, his teeth clenched tight, squeezing out intermittent groans through the gaps.

His hands waved wildly, as if struggling desperately against invisible pain, displaying the feigned state of agony to perfection.

As for how to act, Jiang Cheng did not even need to learn.

Because he had experienced nearly unbearable pain many times, he knew exactly what the process of enduring agony was like.

The gene seeds from back then, and the poisonous potion baths made by the old man... the pain they brought remained vivid in his memory to this day.

Jiang Cheng's performance also satisfied the Tyrant Sword immensely, but soon it realized something was wrong.

Where was the energy?

Where had the emotional energy bred by the host enduring pain gone?

The Tyrant Sword, originally immersed in joy, instantly panicked; the blood-red patterns on the sword hilt writhed crazily, like a hungry snake searching for prey.

But no matter how it grasped, it could not capture a single shred of negative emotional energy.

"How is this possible?!"

The Tyrant Sword was completely stunned.

It saw with its own eyes Jiang Cheng convulsing all over, bleeding from the seven orifices, heard his heart-rending screams, and could even feel the tremors of his muscles twitching from excruciating pain.

Yet strangely, there was no energy feedback whatsoever.

Unwilling to accept this, the Tyrant Sword immediately decided to increase the injection of rule-derivative energy.

The sword body suddenly burst forth with blinding blood-red light, blood-colored energy seeping out from the cracks in the blade like living creatures.

Flowing along Jiang Cheng's head, they drilled into his pores like countless tiny blood snakes.

Jiang Cheng's body instantly tensed, his muscles convulsing violently.

The agony brought this time far exceeded before; Jiang Cheng shifted from acting to screaming in real pain.

During this, his fingernails dug deeply into his palms, blood beads slowly dripping down.

Every tendon on his body protruded clearly visible, trembling like drawn bowstrings.

Xia Sheng, observing from the side, also discovered with surprise that the Tyrant Sword's Hunting Rank had actually dropped by one level.

Filled with curiosity, he turned his head to look at the Guidance floating beside him:

"Brother Guidance, why did the Tyrant Sword's Hunting Rank drop?"

Facing the inquiry, Guidance opened its eyes:

[The current Tyrant Sword is already running on empty; where would it have extra energy to use? To increase the dosage, it chose to squeeze its foundation and release its potential, wanting to make Jiang Cheng suffer more... You can also understand it as burning itself to release power.]

"I see, so where did the negative emotions go? Did the Tyrant Sword fail to absorb them?" Xia Sheng continued asking.

[Any output from the Player System cannot be obtained by external living beings; for example, blood splashed out when players fight can be swallowed and absorbed by external beings, but cannot be decomposed or digested; after a player dies, it will return together to Emperor Tomb Village, becoming part of life reshaping.]

After understanding the reason, Xia Sheng nodded in realization.

Looking at it this way, the Tyrant Sword was now burning itself to fulfill its good brother.

Seeing his good brother wailing in pain, Xia Sheng suddenly felt somewhat envious.

Such pain was something they usually had to pay money to obtain.

At this moment, Jiang Cheng's temples bulged with exposed blood vessels, and terrifying blue-black patterns formed beneath his pale skin.

The whites of his eyes had long been occupied by blood, tears mixing with blood overflowing from the corners of his eyes.

"It hurts... to death, damn it!"

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth and growled low.

Although he had embedded the Painful Soul and promised the old man he would walk this path,

essentially, he did not like pain, nor did he have any masochistic tendencies.

Back then, taking the gene seeds was purely for profit; he thought saving money was best, so a little pain didn't matter.

Compared to pain, he feared poverty more.

It was just that unknowingly, he had walked further and further down this path filled with agony.

At this moment, the rule-derivative energy released by the Tyrant Sword brought continuously increasing Body Tempering experience and Painful Soul experience.

Making him suffer yet feel happy.

His health bar was also dropping rapidly during this process.

But as soon as his health bar dropped to around 20%, the Tyrant Sword would release energy to yank it back up, ensuring he could continue living.

As time passed, the Tyrant Sword's tremors grew increasingly violent, the cracks on its blade continuing to widen as more energy was forcibly poured into Jiang Cheng's body.

Jiang Cheng's skin began to take on an unnatural flush, with fine beads of blood seeping from his pores.

Meanwhile, the Tyrant Sword's heart was already filled with despair.

No matter how it tried, it found itself unable to absorb even a shred of energy.

Its own strength was plummeting rapidly, having already burned away 1%.

On the other side, Jiang Cheng's Painful Soul rose three levels in succession, its intensity continuing to climb.

Even his Body Tempering rank had increased by two levels alongside it.

He had already earned back the 25,000 Sacrificial Power he had paid to Qiao Wu.

Just as Jiang Cheng was anticipating how high he could ascend under the Tyrant Sword's blessing, the sword suddenly withdrew its power.

Jiang Cheng's wails ceased abruptly.

"Kid, you've become stronger; feel it for yourself," the Tyrant Sword's voice came, slightly weak.

Jiang Cheng did not answer, lying equally weak on the ground, his body still twitching slightly, the white breath he exhaled carrying a faint scent of blood.

At this moment, his body surface was covered in tiny scabs, resembling traces of being sliced by countless fine blades before being forcibly healed.

Checking the information log revealed that the aftereffects of the Tyrant Sword's enhancement were not light.

Large amounts of energy burn marks remained along the meridians' circulation paths within his body, impossible to fully heal; as long as he lived, he would have to endure pain that erupted from time to time.

But in Jiang Cheng's view, this was perfectly acceptable; any physical problem could be solved by dying once.

For players like them, physical aftereffects equated to having no aftereffects at all.

The village's black-room hospital could cure all illnesses.

For any physical issue, the surgery time was one hour, guaranteeing a resurrection with full health and full status.

"Unfilial son, how does it feel?" Xia Sheng asked curiously in the team voice channel.

"It feels more painful than death (screenshot)."

Seeing the screenshot message, the smile on Xia Sheng's Iron Face vanished abruptly:

"Hurry up and withdraw that screenshot from my brain; I'm in more pain than you right now. You just screamed a few times and your Body Tempering went up two levels, your Soul up three... it's more unbearable than killing me; why isn't it me holding the sword?"

"Actually, I was thinking the same thing; since I've enjoyed myself, it's your turn to enjoy."

Hearing this, Xia Sheng decisively refused:

"The Tyrant Sword just burned itself to transmit energy to you; it certainly won't be willing to act again now. Even if I held the sword, it would be meaningless. I do have a better idea, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I just asked the Guide and learned that the Tyrant Sword cannot absorb the negative emotions you produce, mainly because anything produced inside a player's body cannot be absorbed by external living beings."

"I've known about this for ages; strategy-party players analyzed it on the forums long ago. So what?"

"What we can confirm now is that the rule behind the Tyrant Sword can absorb negative emotions to gain energy, while we can draw strength from pain. Suppose we combine our Painful Soul with the artifact's rule; wouldn't that double our enhancement? By creating pain to raise the Soul's level, generating negative emotions while enduring that pain, and then absorbing those negative emotions to gain rule energy."

"This rule fits us too well; if we could fuse it with the Painful Soul into a special Soul, we might just take off."

Xia Sheng's analysis made Jiang Cheng's eyes light up:

"Stepping on the left foot with the right to spiral into the sky; your analysis has some merit!"

The mechanism of the Painful Soul was extremely powerful, its damage attaching extreme agony on an emotional level, as well as mental-type damage.

It could also perform highly efficient decapitations through conduction.

The only drawback was that increasing its intensity was incredibly difficult.

Ordinary players set their pain feedback in the function panel to 10%.

But they had chosen to crank their pain feedback up to 100%.

Doing so brought a tenfold increase in the Painful Soul's growth speed.

After all, the Painful Soul's improvement was influenced by the strength of pain feedback.

One hundred percent pain feedback was equivalent to activating a tenfold amplifier.

Yet even so, the Painful Soul's growth speed remained extremely slow; compared to players of other builds, aside from its strong mechanism, it had zero growth potential.

If the Painful Soul could fuse with a perfected rule into a single Soul, or if the traits of two independent Souls could complement each other, their rate of strength growth would see a significant boost.

The future was bright.

Thinking of this, Jiang Cheng immediately asked in his heart:

"Brother Guide, can the Painful Soul fuse with the artifact Soul, allowing the special Soul to grow by absorbing pain, and even negative emotions?"

[Yes, the Touch of Pain is essentially just a pseudo-rule; it can completely fuse with the artifact rule to become a brand new Soul, but the premise is that you must pay a high cost in Sacrificial Power.]

Hearing the Guide's answer, both Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng appeared extremely excited.

Changing pain conduction into negative emotion conduction vastly increased the room for growth.

Most importantly, after fusion, the Painful Soul could not only absorb its own pain but also draw nourishment from negative emotions in others' suffering.

Years ago at the Colorful Mist Coast, they had met the Old Master, who regarded them as his successors, bestowing upon them the wealth of his lifetime's accumulation, along with heavy trust and expectations.

But the Old Master had two great regrets in this life.

The first regret was that his lifespan was exhausted, leaving him powerless to continue slaying evil spirits.

At the moment his life was about to extinguish, the Old Master chose to burn his remaining qi and blood to return to his prime.

Jiang Cheng would forever remember that scene: a young body with flying black hair rushing toward the sky with joy in his heart, the bloody trail of light dragging behind him like a blade tearing through the twilight.

"In the future, when your cultivation bears fruit, kill a few more evil spirits for me," was the last sentence the Old Master left in this world.

The second regret was that despite exhausting his life's blood and effort, he ultimately could not craft the "Touch of Pain" into a rule-type ability.

But now, an opportunity lay right before them.

The artifact rule could grow by absorbing negative emotions, fitting the Touch of Pain's growth model perfectly, and it could also fuse with the Touch of Pain to become a brand new rule.

If they could achieve this, they would be fulfilling one of the Old Master's great dying wishes.

"Unfilial son, if we succeed, next Qingming when we bring spiritual wine to worship the Old Master, we can stand tall and say to his tombstone: 'We have made something of ourselves; the goal you couldn't complete, we have achieved.'"

Raising his head, the look in Jiang Cheng's eyes as he gazed at the Tyrant Sword became incredibly fervent.

Now, the Tyrant Sword was no longer the sole objective.

They needed to find an opportunity to wipe out the entire race behind the Tyrant Sword and seize the artifact rule.

Even if their strength was limited now, merely obtaining the coordinates of the Tyrant Sword's underlying race would be good enough.

The future was long; they had plenty of time to grow.

Once their strength was sufficient, they would simply storm their door and snatch it directly.

To the Tyrant Sword, however, Jiang Cheng's fervent gaze was misinterpreted as him perceiving his own strength increase, realizing its power, and thus developing a deeper dependence and awe toward it.

But what the Tyrant Sword did not know was that Jiang Cheng and Xia Sheng had already begun discussing how to squeeze every last drop of its remaining value.

And how to exterminate the Artifact Race.

(End of Chapter)