Chapter 62: Black Pupils, Silver Eyes

Right, someone once told me that by invoking this secret art, I could ensure my safety for a time.

Without hesitation, I began to chant softly, spiritual energy surging within me, resonating with the white mist a hundred yards away, causing it to tremble in unison!

With a whoosh, the white vortex shuddered violently and then collapsed in a rush.

Waves of white light surged, rolling and unfurling like clouds, like an endless tide.

A sudden gale swept up, causing my hair and sleeves to fly.

In the next instant, the white mist gathered, forming a long rainbow that spanned the sky and, in a blink, condensed into one.

The massive vortex vanished, all of it compressed around me, transforming into a long robe the color of pear blossoms.

This robe, with its wide, flowing sleeves, was adorned with ever-changing patterns, exuding the bearing of an immortal.

On the surface of the snowy robe, clouds shrouded icy waters, and a pure, serene morning unfolded. Beneath the haze, a thousand waterfalls flowed as one, clear and blue.

It seemed an immortal’s sash, winding around my arms and neck, and circling my waist.

A surge of profound enlightenment welled up in my heart.

I wanted to shout, but suddenly forgot how to speak. Instead, I instinctively raised the sword in my hand.

Lifting my right hand felt as if I were raising mountains and rivers; the wind swept away the lingering clouds, drawing the silver river down from the sky.

With a resonant clang, the sword—thin as a cicada's wing—suddenly weighed as much as a mountain.

With one strike, I brought the sword down upon the serpent’s head!

There was a tearing sound; the monstrous serpent head that could block out the sun and moon was severed, its skin, flesh, and bone splitting apart.

Dark red, foul-smelling blood burst forth like a broken dam, forming a rainbow arc of blood.

One sword stroke, and the Milky Way poured down; a single blow, and Xiangyin was gravely wounded!

In a daze, my heart gave a violent lurch and horror filled my eyes.

In that moment, I recalled what I had just done, a chill running through me. Seeing Xiangyin not far away, its aura fading yet still thrashing desperately, I hurried to flee.

I dared not touch even a sliver of its flesh, nor risk being struck by its body.

One misstep would mean death or grave injury.

I had seen clearly—its blood and flesh were laced with deadly poison!

Keeping a safe distance, I sheathed the magic sword back into the array’s core, then quickly strode away, making for the edge of the formation.

By the time I emerged, the snowy robe had already vanished, yet a faint understanding had dawned within.

Unintentionally, I had found my own sword path, my own Way, my own will!

Touching my cool right eye, my spirits soared even higher.

The spiritual eye there, too, had been claimed without my realizing it.

A subtle thought stirred, and I snapped both eyes open: my left pupil was pitch-black, like an ancient, unchanging starry sky; my right, a silvery white, containing sun, moon, and stars.

It was the very silver sword orb!

The sword intent I had unwittingly awakened had already refined it, and now it coiled within my lower dantian, twining with the black Dao core in the dance of yin and yang.

I had not expected that the spiritual energy that had accumulated in this world for tens of thousands of years would be drawn forth by my sword intent and, in an instant, nearly sever Xiangyin’s serpent head.

At this thought, excitement burned in my chest, my mouth dry—who could have foreseen such an outcome in a life-and-death struggle?

When I exited the formation, the others were long gone. After a moment’s hesitation, I chose to continue alone.

There was no knowing where they had gone; to search blindly would only waste precious time.

This domain would remain open for about ten days, and already three days had passed—seven remained. This was a land of inheritance, anything but ordinary.

Setting aside cultivation techniques and spells, even treasures, elixirs, and rare herbs lay everywhere for the taking.

I found a vantage point atop a hill, scanning the landscape in all directions, pondering for a moment before choosing a path.

It lay farther west than the formation I had left, a region of towering mountains and rugged cliffs—surely a place where treasures could be found.

Seven days passed.

I arrived early at the domain’s exit.

To my surprise, the other four were already there, waiting.

We exchanged glances, eyes brimming with tears, overcome with emotion. Only Wantong, whose somber face finally brightened, showed any relief.

Upon returning to the Sword Cottage, I, for once, did not immediately begin to cultivate, but instead took stock of my situation.

Upon me I now carried two great treasures: the Dao Core and the Sword Orb.

The Dao Core, condensed from the dust of the world, might as well be called the Dust Core.

Xiangyin had withstood the heavenly tribulation, and I sensed vaguely that it was because of this Dust Core—its extraordinary nature undeniable.

As for the Sword Orb, it was imbued with my sword intent and would provide great assistance in the future, perhaps even enabling me to master some of the most demanding spells within the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger.

In the ancient days, the legends of sword cultivators were countless—many tales of immortals handed down among common folk were, in truth, feats of these sword masters.

Even as a child, I could not help but yearn for such things.

My own cultivation method, the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger, its first volume alone pointed directly to the great Dao of heaven and earth.

Some might wonder why, after merely glancing at the array’s forbidden symbols, I could already perform their rudiments.

The earliest cultivators did not seek to become immortals, but pursued the ultimate Dao—the very end of heaven’s path.

Alas, they were gradually supplanted by those who sought only immortality.

Yet I straddled both paths, confronting the great Dao directly.

The forbidden array symbols were but derivatives of the Dao; even the first carvings of the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger, with their golden, sigil-like light, were inscribing the very runes of heaven’s order.

It was in that moment that true understanding dawned. That day, I stood closest to the Dao; each rune was perfectly clear to me.

My storage pouch had been destroyed, its bottles and jars all lost. Fortunately, nothing of great importance was among them; the precious Sword Orb had already been refined by me.

Moreover, I had found another opportunity within the domain, acquiring a sword-type magical treasure.

This treasure had been sealed within a formation for countless millennia, miraculously preserved from decay, though most of its spirit had faded.

It could only be considered a sharp tool for those in the Qi Refining stage.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator would never use such a treasure. Without its spirit, sword control would be extremely difficult.

But for a Qi Refiner, this mattered little. Only with special means could one control objects at this stage, and the limitations were many—it was far from common.

This sword was extraordinary, reaching five feet in length—almost as tall as myself.

Its blade, once covered in fine scale patterns, was now mostly corroded and blurred. Near the hilt, two characters were faintly engraved—Bright Moon—a fact I discovered after consulting ancient texts.

The Bright Moon Sword was entirely silver-white, shining like the full moon, as if it truly bore the weight of one. The blade was remarkably heavy; had I not trained my body as well, I could scarcely have wielded it.

As for the Profound Breath Dust Art, I could not count how much it had aided me, whether in perceiving spiritual energy in minute detail or in dividing my focus.

Notably, my proficiency in these aspects had deepened; even without actively invoking the heart method, some of its effects would manifest on their own.

In battle, the Profound Breath Dust Art could even bring me into a state beyond joy or sorrow, akin to the emotionless clarity of the Supreme Path.