He weighed it in his hand, and it felt just right.
Fan Wubing was pleased. He practiced "Demon Body Transformation," inserted the sword into his chest cavity, transforming it into a rib that didn't hinder his movents. Then he began to refine it.
"It seems I must take the path of a Sword Cultivator after all..."
A Sword Cultivator typically has a Lifebound Flying Sword and a long sword to wield.
The Lifebound Flying Sword is connected to the soul, becoming a part of oneself, nurturing Sword Intent internally.
The long sword in hand connects to the physique, serving as an external weapon to strengthen Divine Techniques.
Having both internal and external aspects makes one a true Sword Cultivator.
"Even though I can't perform any sword techniques... I still need to give it a na." Fan Wubing thought for a while, this sword wasn't a magical artifact, but a living creature of so sort, though it seed to lack a significant will. "It doesn't suit the Demon Dao style, I should give it a more righteous na."
At that mont, the moon erged from the clouds, and Fan Wubing smiled, "Might as well call it 'Pointing at the Moon'."
As he muttered this, the long sword known as Pointing at the Moon cald down instantly, no longer resisting, lying flat, ready to be refined.
It felt as if it had found its ho.
After all, it was just a sword, what could it do? It wasn't going to take revenge for its forr master.
Fan Wubing quickly left this place. This area, influenced by the real form of the Demon Lord from before, was lifeless and unsettling.
He walked a long distance until he stopped by a river.
His body had already recovered, but his soul was still extrely weary. Even after washing his face by the river, he couldn't shake off the fatigue. The weariness of the soul was hard to endure, and drowsiness surged like a tide.
He struggled to find a suitable place to rest, his head nodding as he walked, his eyelids barely lifting. His body was exhausted, his blood flowing so slowly it barely maintained basic life signs.
Finally, he couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed.
For so unknown reason, Fan Wubing felt a sudden lack of security, curling up on a patch of grass by the river, his consciousness sinking into chaos, mumbling as if he were talking in sleep, "Senior Sister, why aren't you back yet... It's such an important day..."
The young man slept deeply, the cold wind by the river blowing over him.
At so mont,
Snow began to fall from the sky, gradually covering him.
...
Outside a grand palace, in a straight and long corridor.
A frail girl with a pallid complexion sat in a wheelchair, coughing violently.
Behind her, an elderly woman with a serene deanor pushed her forward slowly. The old woman asked, "Why did the Hall Master suddenly start coughing?"
The girl smiled slightly, "Ke You is dead, just now."
The elderly woman was surprised, "Why? Did the people from White Jade Capital and Wenxin Heaven find him?"
"No. The people of White Jade Capital have been busy patching up their blessed lands and had no ti to ddle. Wenxin Heaven was busy reorganizing the Divine Dao. The one who killed him was a Nascent Soul level Little Demon Cultivator." The girl's smile widened a bit.
The old woman was stunned, "Na... Nascent Soul?"
"Yes. He died miserably, almost devoured completely. If I hadn't discovered it in ti, our affairs would have been exposed by him."
"So, you dealt with him then?"
"Mm."
"Is this considered internal strife? Will the others put pressure on us?"
The girl laughed more joyfully, coughing vigorously, the sickness on her face more pronounced, "Having walked the Path of the Demon Lord, would they care about internal strife?"
"What do you plan to do next, Hall Master? With the death of Ke You Demon Lord, a new Path of the Demon Lord will soon erge, it will likely cause quite an uproar again, right?"
The girl gazed into the distance, "Let them cause a ruckus. It has nothing to do with our Slaughter Hall."
"Planning to rest?"
"I'll go see Changsheng Continent."
"Changsheng Continent?"
"Mm... Suddenly, I want to see the sea." The girl looked at her own legs and smiled, "Sitting in a wheelchair for too long, I've almost forgotten the feeling of walking."
"Alright."
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