"Woah~" As he gazed at the vague silhouette within the light, Yanqing felt like he could no longer restrain his excitement.
He had just obtained a spirit stone capable of granting intelligence to a treasured blade, and in the blink of an eye, he now held a purple-tier Curio-level sword?
Was this not simply far too lucky?!
Yet, when the radiance finally dispersed, his smile froze.
"Th-this is…?"
With both hands he heaved the sword upward. The blade scraped across the floor, producing a teeth-grinding screech, and left behind what looked like a faint scratch—yet upon closer inspection, that mark revealed itself to be a perfectly straight cut several dozen centimeters deep!
Feixiao, a fellow lover of weapons, could not help but step closer to scrutinize the sword alongside Yanqing.
The flooring in this shop was uniformly made of Qinggang Stone—a top-grade architectural material famed for its durability. Its hardness was such that even standard factories could hardly process it.
Within the Xianzhou, the only place capable of producing this flooring was the Artisanship Commission!
And yet now, this sword had sliced into it by sharpness alone. This was merely from the gentlest of draws. If infused with the power of the Path, its might could likely sever even the hardest cosmic alloys with ease!
Without a doubt, this was a bona fide treasured sword.
And yet…
Feixiao's gaze toward Yanqing carried a glimmer of amusement, mingled with faint sympathy.
This sword was far too broad and heavy—it was wholly mismatched with Yanqing's style.
Worse still, it happened to perfectly suit none other than his recently acquainted rival—Yunli.
Feixiao herself had once been that age, so she well understood Yanqing's feelings.
If she and her rival had once clashed over whose swordsmanship was superior, only for her to suddenly acquire a weapon of the same style as her opponent the very next day—her heart would have collapsed as well.
For children in the throes of rivalry, nothing mattered more than saving face.
Feixiao shook her head, declining to say more.
"…"
Silence. Yanqing gazed at the heavy sword in his hands, wordless.
It felt as though the Goddess of Fortune had smacked him across the face, pinned him down, twisted him into 365 humiliating poses, then sauntered off puffing on a cigarette—leaving only a wad of cash in her wake.
This forced transaction—regardless of his wishes—was undoubtedly a profit. And yet… why did it feel so painfully familiar?
"…It truly is a fine sword."
After a long silence, Yanqing at last accepted reality.
Though bitterness gnawed at him, he could not deny its worth. As a sword-obsessed youth, such power tugged deeply at his heart—even if it was a greatsword.
Besides, with the [Stone of Enlightenment] in hand, he could awaken its spirit, and wield it as a flying sword. Then its weight would no longer matter… even if it was a greatsword.
"Young Yanqing's luck truly is remarkable," Sylvester's voice drew him from his thoughts.
To Sylvester, Yanqing's struggle was plain. But he hardly believed anyone would discard a purple-tier Curio simply for the sake of a petty rivalry.
"Oh, right. Shopkeeper Sylvester, might I trouble you to explain this sword's origin?"
Now that it was his, Yanqing felt compelled to learn more. Though he still needed time to reconcile with it, he could not bear to let such a treasure remain shrouded in ignorance.
At his request, Sylvester chuckled faintly: "The [Massacre Ruler]. Once the blade of a noble from an elven world. After passing through unknown hands, it absorbed a trace of conceptual power. By channeling vast amounts of Path-force into it, one may invoke the skill Final Sword—in theory, capable of severing anything."
Halfway through, Sylvester adjusted his wording. Best not to mention that the weapon's former wielder had the epithet of 'Princess'—a woman. Otherwise, Yanqing's face might turn completely green.
Still, how odd that this fell into Yanqing's hands, when it so clearly suited Yunli better…
Ah well, such was the thrill of opening Trash Cans.
It was the same with Black Tower's Light Cones—was it that a particular cone was uniquely powerful?
No! It was simply that people pulled the wrong one! And when there was nothing else to use…
Indeed, the greatest charm—and frustration—of Trash Cans lay in this cruel lottery of fortune.
"An Elven kingdom? Are there truly elves in the cosmos who wield such massive swords?"
Though still young, Yanqing had studied under a Xianzhou general, and his knowledge was not shallow.
From what he recalled, most elven races in the universe yearned for primitive, natural living. Rarely did they develop technological civilization. They excelled at magic and archery, but heavy weapons were hardly their forte.
Sylvester only smiled, answering without hesitation: "The universe is vast, filled with wonders. Besides, this blade has long since been reforged by extraordinary hands—its power now utterly unlike before."
At this, Yanqing's eyes lit up with sudden understanding.
"So that's it!"
Shopkeeper Sylvester's words were cryptic, but… who else could this extraordinary refiner be, if not Shopkeeper Sylvester himself?
Since founding this shop, he had been nothing but enigmatic. Surely his modesty here must hold some hidden meaning…
Yanqing understood!
With his 'realization,' he devoted himself wholly to examining the sword.
From Sylvester's explanation, this blade wielded a fragment of conceptual power?
Though it could not outshine the [Imagine Breaker], which was a gold-tier Curio, this was merely purple—and yet it still bore such overwhelming force?
In his understanding, only one class of beings could naturally command the power of concepts.
Aeons.
Unique, inimitable, unreachable.
And yet now, with only a surge of Path-force through this sword, he too could wield conceptual power?
It was almost unreal.
As this truth sank in, Yanqing's heart surged with uncontrollable fervor. His hands trembled upon the hilt.
He looked urgently toward Sylvester: "Shopkeeper Sylvester, I want to test this sword!"
"Feel free," Sylvester gestured toward the outside, hinting only that his shop remain unharmed.
At this, Feixiao stepped forward eagerly: "What's the point of striking a pile of rocks? Allow me to be your opponent instead!"
Her own interest in the power to sever all was no less than Yanqing's. She brimmed with anticipation—perhaps even more enthusiastic than he.
After all, she harbored none of the boyish hang-ups. Skilled in myriad weapons, any new blade was but another toy in her hands.
"My gratitude, General Feixiao!"
To have an Emanator as his sparring partner—Yanqing could hardly dream of more.
After all, his own master Jing Yuan had never so much as lifted a finger for sparring, offering only guidance from afar.
The two took their stances in the plaza outside.
Feixiao stood relaxed, hands on her hip, her posture casual and unguarded.
Yanqing, meanwhile, gripped the heavy sword, assuming his strongest stance. With all his might, he prepared to unleash his most powerful strike against the famed Arbiter-General.