Chapter 301: Ziling and the Sword Cultivation

'Hey, how did this sword go soft?'

Inside the Sword Tomb, as the full power of the Dim Soul Palm surged, the purple sword stiffened, then fell utterly silent.

After all, even Yan Chuqing of the Fourth Transformation couldn't resist his ambush.

How could a mere Fourth Transformation spirit-linked artifact possibly withstand it?

Once it ceased resisting, Fang Can gently pulled the purple sword free from the white stone.

But then Fang Can saw that, under gravity, the entire blade subtly bent downward—it was a sword as thin as a butterfly's wing, supple and flexible.

He gave it two light shakes; watching the tip tremble and emit a sound like a serpent's hiss, he directly infused it with an AT field, forcibly straightening it.

He lightly tapped the blade with his finger; the tip rang with a trembling chime.

His fingertip gently stroked the smooth, purple surface of the sword; Fang Can's eyes flickered with satisfaction—it was indeed a fine blade.

With no scabbard available, Fang Can gave it a flick, coiling the entire flexible blade around his waist, held in place by the field as a faint purple sash.

Looking at the myriad long swords buried all around, now that he had chosen his preferred weapon, Fang Can no longer lingered and strode out of the Sword Tomb.

But as he returned to the entrance, he could still faintly hear the faint hum of the dozen or so swords he had previously connected with.

'So you've made your choice?'

Liu Qingmeng, seeing Fang Can emerge, stared intently at his figure, finally fixing on the luminous purple band around his waist, her eyes revealing a hint of surprise:

'I didn't expect you to choose Ziling—it's the weapon of the Second Generation Ancestor.'

'What special effect does this sword have?' Fang Can asked.

'You don't know?' Liu Qingmeng looked at the bewildered youth with slight disbelief:

'Since this sword chose you, and your minds are in harmony, you should at least vaguely sense Ziling's abilities.'

Fang Can's face behind the mask grew slightly awkward.

There was no mind-meld at all—only his AT field forcing submission.

'Ziling's ability is 【Boundless Distance】: its attacks ignore distance.'

'Whether one meter or ten thousand meters, as long as you can observe it, you can strike.'

Hearing Liu Qingmeng's words, Fang Can drew Ziling from his waist; the field replaced his eyes, projecting a needle-like extension outward, endlessly stretching.

Sensing the loam supporting the ancient tree dozens of meters away, he lightly swept Ziling through the air.

With a hiss, a fine cut appeared instantly on the loam dozens of meters distant.

'Whether space or distance, as long as you can observe, you can harm—only the mind-phase constrains you: in combat at the same realm, you must break your opponent's mind-phase before you can strike them.'

Liu Qingmeng had naturally studied the weapons of past ancestors; before entering the Sword Tomb, she had already pre-selected her target.

'A fine weapon.' Fang Can grew even more satisfied with his choice.

Watching the youth's expression, Liu Qingmeng continued: 'For our Sword Sect, the sword is another life.'

'A divine sword is spirit-linked; Fourth Transformation-grade weapons already possess a mind akin to a small beast.'

'Though you are not our sect disciple, you must treat Ziling well—do not neglect it. Best to spend time daily maintaining it.'

'How do you maintain it?'

'Each day, infuse your mind-phase into the blade. Combat inevitably causes wear; spirit-linked artifacts can repair themselves by absorbing your infused mind-phase,' Liu Qingmeng explained simply.

Fang Can nodded thoughtfully, gazing at Ziling, the purple sword now utterly still since the Dim Soul Palm.

'If nothing urgent, stay within the Sword Sect for these days—the Sixth Transformation mystical realm opens soon; I'll call for you then.'

'Unless necessary, stay quietly in your assigned pavilion—don't wander or stir up trouble.'

As they spoke, the two had already exited the Yongle Dadian.

Liu Qingmeng's slender finger pointed to a small pavilion of bamboo and stone beside the distant lake—built by the Sword Sect to house guests.

After bidding farewell to Liu Qingmeng, Fang Can entered the pavilion, leaned back against the bed curtains, and stared at Ziling in his hand.

He followed Liu Qingmeng's instructions.

Slowly, he poured his mind-phase into the blade; his mind-phase became like a third arm, circling the purple surface, carefully sensing every groove filled with his essence.

As his fingertip brushed the purple patterns, Fang Can noticed the previously inert Ziling was gradually regaining awareness.

The blade coiled around his arm like a serpent, now subtly resentful of his earlier brutality, as if ready to slash his wrist at any moment.

Feeling the sting on his arm, Fang Can helplessly shifted his mind-phase into a Stage Two field.

In an instant, the once-hostile Ziling straightened rigidly, then rippled like water.

After a few breaths, the purple sword surged again like a startled cat, lunging at Fang Can—he barely dodged by tilting his head.

'You damn thing, why not just cooperate?' Fang Can sent a mental message, annoyed.

Sensing Ziling's spine-like dragon form, Fang Can didn't coddle it.

The next instant, his mind-phase surged like a tide, flooding the blade—enough to make it feel discomfort without overwhelming it into unconsciousness.

Buzzzzzzzzzz...

The buzzing vibration of the blade lasted a full incense stick; only then did Fang Can sever the field connection.

Sensing the blade-spirit's exhausted yet exhilarated state, Fang Can sent a mental message:

'From now on, behave yourself and fulfill your duty as a sword—I won't force you.'

He waited a moment, sensing the blade-spirit's response; his expression slowly turned peculiar:

'You want me to feed you daily with my mind-phase? You little brat… are you a masochistic girl?'

Fang Can didn't voice the rest, fearing another outburst—but since it was only mind-phase infusion, he had more than enough, and readily agreed.

With the agreement settled, feeling the purple sword now lying inert in his arms like a lifeless object, Fang Can casually tucked it against his waist.

Everything on the Dayan side had been arranged; the rest could be handled by Brother Ji.

When the Sixth Transformation mystical realm opens, nearly all Fourth Transformation cultivators with ambition will enter.

At that time, the nations will be weakened and unable to stir up trouble—posing no threat to Ji Donglai and his group.

'Just this one trip, I don't know how many months it will take to return,' Fang Can pondered in his heart.

Because that Sixth-Transformation mystical realm connects to another universe, outside the scope of inter-realm travel, it naturally will not be included in the present world; awaiting him is an entirely new Fang Tian Di.

Gradually clearing his mind, his consciousness sank back into the sea of the heart, and Fang Can picked up his brush to continue recording today's sights and sounds within the sea of consciousness.

During this period, the content he recorded decreased significantly; over several days he had written only a few tens of thousands of words. It seems self-examination has made progress; those distracting thoughts that disturbed his peaceful dreams indeed almost no longer arise.

(End of this chapter)