If only I really were a man...
The pile of firewood in the Daoist Temple glimmered dimly.
Su Bei gently wiped the two swords in the Sword Box. He felt a new surge of energy coursing through his entire being and murmured to himself, "A sword needs to be nurtured."
The Qingping Sword was already second nature to him, but his control over Missing Departure still left much to be desired.
In a world where myriad laws and changes never stray from their root, what countless cultivators sought was eternal life, the grand immortality. Only cultivators who achieved lesser immortality were genuinely worthy of the title "Immortal," marking their initial "Achieving Dao." For a Sword Cultivator, the path differed. While it was said that one never truly became one with their sword, aspiring to reach the pinnacle of cultivation meant, at the very least, nurturing a Sword Spirit.
A Sword Spirit of one's own.
