A surge of excitement rose from the depths of Song Wanníng's soul, making her body tremble uncontrollably.
She craved that sword strike. She longed for it.
And she refused to accept that it was beyond her.
With a twist of her wrist, she raised her sword high and slashed forward with force.
The first strike landed without even a ripple.
The second strike carried no weight.
The third showed a glimmer of improvement.
The fourth...
She couldn't even count how many times she swung, but in her eyes, there was only that one sword strike.
Her spirit had already sunk deep into obsession, unable to pull away. Even her body no longer responded to conscious control.
The once-arrogant pearl suddenly sensed something was wrong.
This human's sword strikes were growing sharper, more violent, and now carried a terrifying presence that made the pearl feel... afraid.
No. Something was very wrong.
Just a moment ago, her sword intent had been nowhere near this level. What was she doing?
The pearl finally began to panic.
It tried to rush in front of Song Wanníng to provoke her, disrupt her mental state, but it couldn't get close at all.
The nearer it got, the more intense its fear became.
The aura she exuded made it want to submit.
No. Absolutely not.
This human wasn't its chosen master. She wasn't. It couldn't submit like this.
The pearl began to resist, backing into the corner of the sea of consciousness.
Moments ago it had been so arrogant. Now, it was utterly lost.
Within her spiritual sea, the small golden sword also began to change.
To its shock, strange patterns started appearing along its blade. Scales began to grow.
What was happening?
The small sword was confused. It had no idea what was unfolding.
It only knew that every time its master swung her sword, the patterns grew deeper, the scales multiplied.
It stared at itself blankly, sensing that something incredible was about to happen.
Boom—
Immortal King Mòyáng unleashed a sword strike.
Song Wanníng followed closely, her sword sweeping forward. Yet her technique had only the shape, not the spirit.
What was missing?
She furrowed her brow, pausing instinctively.
Staring at that distant figure, she felt as if she were witnessing the descent of a god.
He looked down upon the world, seemingly disdainful, yet his gaze carried an inexplicable weight.
Complex. Indistinct.
Impossible to read clearly.
Her heart skipped twice.
That was it.
Immortal King Mòyáng was a true Immortal. He always stood with that cold, aloof posture.
He looked down on all things from the bottom of his heart, yet still held compassion for them.
He cultivated the Dao of Ruthlessness, and yet, at the critical moment, he stepped in to help her.
He claimed detachment, but was more sincere than most.
He simply stood quietly between heaven and earth, protecting and accepting all.
Rumble—
Suddenly, her sea of consciousness exploded into chaos, sweeping up the small golden sword in a swirl of disorder.
Within her sword intent, a tyrannical killing aura transformed in an instant into countless blooming flowers, vivid and full of life.
Wild grasses sprang up, towering trees burst from the ground, and small animals galloped joyfully through the scenery.
It was a paradise, a world of peace and vitality.
Everything seemed so beautiful, but the pearl trembled with dread.
She had awakened the True Sword Realm.
It was over.
Above sword intent was the Sword Domain, a constructed illusion built from sword will, capable of killing without form.
But above the Sword Domain was the True Sword Realm. Why was it called "True"?
Because everything within it was real. A world born of the wielder's soul.
Genuine, tangible, and fully under her control.
But how? She was only at the Nascent Soul stage. How could she possibly have done this?
The pearl trembled with terror from the bottom of its core.
Her talent in the way of the sword was simply monstrous.
And what unsettled it even more was that her True Sword Realm held no killing intent at all.
So strange.
She cultivated the Path of Slaughter... didn't she?
The pearl was lost in confusion, but it knew one thing: there was no way out now.
It shrank deeper into the corner, resigned to its fate.
As soon as Song Wanníng fully awakened, she would surely drag it into the True Sword Realm for torment. At that point, resistance would be meaningless. It would have no choice but to yield.
Rumble—
Thunderous tremors echoed endlessly through her sea of consciousness, crashing over Song Wanníng.
In that moment, she stood above the starry sky, looking coldly down at the world below.
All her past, all those people, suddenly felt so small, like specks of dust in the vast universe.
Before her eyes was a field of chaos, veiling everything from sight.
Song Wanníng raised a hand and casually swung her sword.
The chaos vanished.
Warm sunlight pierced the firmament, falling directly upon her.
In that instant, she stood like a deity, surveying all living beings.
Beneath her gaze, everything bowed and submitted.
At the same time, a ring of light suddenly spread from within the sealed chamber. It broke through the barriers and surged outward.
The light spread from the chamber, enveloped the entire Song Clan, then rushed beyond at blinding speed, blanketing the entire city within a few heartbeats.
But it didn't stop there. It pressed onward, roaring toward the surrounding mountains.
Wherever the light touched, every being felt a soul-deep fear. Without control, they dropped to their knees with a heavy thud.
Both knees hit the ground.
Everyone below the Nascent Soul stage succumbed immediately.
Even those above it were barely holding on, drenched in cold sweat, barely able to remain standing. Their eyes were filled with shock, their bodies frozen in fear.
The entire city was in an uproar. Even the beasts within the mountains prostrated themselves, trembling violently. People stared toward the Song Clan in terror, completely at a loss as to what had happened.
And the one at the center of it all... had no idea.
Inside her spiritual sea, golden light surged. The small golden sword had vanished.
In its place soared a golden dragon, roaring and rising into the air.
Majestic and furious, like a sovereign of all beneath the heavens.
Crack—
From within her dantian came a soft sound. Her cultivation had broken through smoothly, rising to the peak of Nascent Soul.
The pearl saw this and nearly blacked out.
This time, it was truly doomed.
If it could bury itself in a hole, it would.
A few breaths later, the world returned to peace.
Song Wanníng retracted her aura, and the light circle dissipated.
Everyone around slowly regained control, staggering to their feet. Their bodies were soaked with cold sweat.
They wiped their brows, faces pale and shaken.
Just moments ago, they had all felt the urge to submit. Some even welcomed the idea of servitude.
Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
What kind of "demonic art" was that?
People glanced at each other, eyes still full of fear.
Because of that dread, not a single person dared speak up or ask questions about what they had just experienced.
They only knew one thing: something extraordinary had happened in the Song Clan.
—
In the sealed chamber, Song Wanníng smiled sweetly and raised a finger, curling it toward the pearl in a beckoning motion.