Chapter 25: The Black Blade Reborn
The world inside the Ouroboros Ring was in a state of perpetual twilight. The artificial sun I had crafted from a captured Core Formation beast soul hung low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the lush grass of the pocket dimension.
It was quiet here. The only sound was the rhythmic, thrumming beat of the Spirit Forge.
"Temperature at 3,000 degrees," Ria announced. She stood by the massive bellows, her maid uniform replaced by a simple blacksmith's apron made of fire-resistant lizard hide. Her silver hair was tied back, and sweat glistened on her porcelain skin—a simulation of life she maintained to make me feel comfortable.
"Higher," I commanded, stripping off my upper robes.
My torso was covered in faint, glowing markings—the Gravity Seals I kept active at all times. Under 50x gravity, every movement was a workout.
I stood before the anvil. On it lay Antakala.
In its current state, my sword looked like a piece of scrap metal. It was a jagged, blackened strip of iron, covered in rust and corrosion. It looked dead.
But I knew better. Inside that rust slept the soul of a Dragon Queen. Inside that metal was the weapon that had once severed the chains of a galaxy.
"Today, we wake you up," I whispered, running my hand along the dull edge.
I turned to the table of materials.
The Thunder-Horn Drake King's Horn. Six feet of spiraling, lightning-infused bone.
A jar of Void Sand.
And a pile of Stellar Meteorite shards I had stolen from the Golem Tunnel.
"Ria, initiate the Voidfire Array," I ordered.
Ria clapped her hands. The runes inscribed on the floor flared violet. The fire in the forge turned from orange to a deep, consuming black. This wasn't normal fire; it was Void Fire, capable of burning through the laws of physics.
I grabbed the Drake Horn with my bare hands.
'Technique: Heaven-Devouring Sutra.'
I didn't melt the horn. I crushed it.
My grip tightened. The horn groaned, cracks appearing on its surface. Blue lightning arced out, striking my chest, trying to repel me.
"Behave," I growled.
I squeezed harder. The horn shattered into dust. But the essence—the blue lightning—remained. It floated in the air, a ball of pure, crackling electric mana.
I grabbed the ball of lightning and slammed it into the black fire.
BOOM.
The fire roared. I tossed in the Stellar Meteorite. The metal liquefied instantly in the Void Fire.
"Now!" I shouted.
I picked up the hammer.
This wasn't a normal hammer. It was a projection of my soul.
I grabbed Antakala and thrust it into the violet flames. The rust began to flake off. The metal groaned.
CLANG.
I struck the blade.
The sound wasn't metallic. It was the sound of a dragon roaring.
CLANG.
"Remember," I spoke to the sword. "Remember the blood we spilled. Remember the stars we cut."
With every strike, I injected the molten Stellar Meteorite and the Drake Lightning into the blade. The black iron drank it greedily.
Ria moved in perfect sync with me. She sprinkled Void Sand between my strikes, acting as a flux to bind the materials.
"Master," Ria said, her voice strained. "The sword is resisting. The seal on your 3rd Life is too strong. The blade cannot handle the full intent of the Sword Emperor yet."
"I know," I gritted my teeth, sweat pouring down my face. "That's why we are forcing it."
I closed my eyes. I dove into my Soul Sea.
The Inner World.
I stood on the surface of a dark, boundless ocean. The sky above was filled with nine massive, locked gates. Two were open (The War God and The Blacksmith).
I looked at the Third Gate.
It was a massive door made of swords. It radiated an aura of absolute sharpness.
I walked up to it.
"Open," I commanded.
The gate didn't move. A voice echoed from within it—my own voice, but colder, sharper.
"You are weak, Tenth. You play with food. You play with politics. You have forgotten the edge."
"I haven't forgotten," I said, looking at the gate. "I just found something worth protecting this time."
"Protection makes the blade dull."
"Protection gives the blade a purpose," I countered. "Open the door. I have a tournament to win."
The voice remained silent for a moment.
"Prove it. Show me your Killing Intent."
I took a deep breath.
I didn't release the chaotic rage of the Demon Paragon. I didn't release the dominance of the Beast King.
I released the cold, surgical precision of the Sword Emperor.
I visualized the world.
I visualized a line.
I cut the line.
CRACK.
The massive gate of swords shuddered. A hairline fracture appeared in the center.
"Acceptable," the voice whispered. "Seal 3... Unlocked."
The Real World.
My eyes snapped open. They were no longer brown. They were silver, glowing with the sharpness of a razor.
Seal 3: The Sword Emperor.
Status: 10% Awakened.
I looked at the anvil. The hammer in my hand felt light.
"Ria, step back," I ordered.
I raised the hammer.
CLANG.
This strike was different. It didn't just hit the metal. It hit the concept of the metal. I folded the lightning into the steel, layer by layer, folding space itself into the blade.
The rust shattered completely.
A blinding black light erupted from the forge.
The fire died. The hammer crumbled into dust.
I stood there, breathing heavily.
Floating above the anvil was Antakala.
It was no longer a rusty scrap.
It was a sleek, pitch-black katana, roughly four feet long. Along the edge, a jagged line of blue lightning pulsed like a heartbeat. The hilt was wrapped in what looked like dragon skin (my own skin, harvested from a past life).
It wasn't flashy. It didn't glow with gold or holy light. It looked like a shadow solidified into a weapon.
I reached out and grabbed the hilt.
THRUM.
A wave of familiarity washed over me. It felt like holding a part of my own soul.
"Welcome back, beautiful," I whispered.
"Master," Ria walked over. She looked at the sword, then at her own hands (the puppet body). "I feel... complete. The connection is stable. My processing speed has increased by 300%."
"Good."
I looked at the distant mountain range inside the Ouroboros Ring. A massive peak, roughly three kilometers away.
"Let's test the edge," I said.
I didn't use Qi. I didn't use a technique name.
I simply assumed a drawing stance.
I focused on the mountain.
I focused on the space between me and the mountain.
'Concept: Spatial Severance.'
I drew the blade.
SHING.
It was a silent cut. No shockwave. No explosion.
I sheathed the blade instantly.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then...
Rumble.
The top half of the mountain, three kilometers away, slowly began to slide.
The cut was perfectly diagonal. The mountain top slid off, crashing into the valley below with a thunderous boom that shook the entire pocket dimension.
"Efficiency: 100%," Ria noted calmly. "Distance: Irrelevant. Sharpness: Absolute."
I looked at my hand. It was trembling slightly.
"I can only use that once a day," I admitted, feeling my Dantian nearly empty. "The consumption is terrifying. But... it works."
I had unlocked the Sword Emperor's Intent.
It wasn't just about cutting physical objects. It was about cutting distance. If I could see it, I could cut it.
"We are ready," I said.
The Intruder.
Suddenly, a warning siren blared in the pocket dimension.
The sky turned red.
"Alert," Ria said, her eyes flashing red. "Breach detected. Not here. In the real world."
"What?" I frowned. "Who is attacking the camp?"
"It is not the camp," Ria said. "The signal is coming from the Headmaster's Tower."
I froze.
The assassination.
Viper said the Order wanted Altair dead. I thought they would wait for the Tournament.
"They are moving early," I realized. "They want to kill him before the envoys arrive."
I grabbed the Headmaster's Token Altair had given me. It was vibrating hot. It was a distress signal.
"Ria, grab Anya. Get Viper. We are leaving the ring."
"Master, your energy is low from the forging," Ria warned. "Engaging an assassin capable of killing an Emperor is ill-advised."
I strapped Antakala to my waist. The black scabbard seemed to drink the light.
"I just forged a god-slaying sword, Ria," I grinned, my silver eyes flashing. "I need something to test it on."
"Open the portal."
The Headmaster's Tower.
It was midnight in the Academy. The campus was silent.
But high above the clouds, on the floating island of the Headmaster, a battle was raging.
Headmaster Altair was on his knees.
His white robes were stained with blood. A massive wound crossed his chest, leaking golden Emperor blood.
Around him, the mighty defensive formations of the tower were shattered.
Standing over him was a figure cloaked in Vanta-black armor. He held a jagged, curved dagger that dripped with a grey, colorless liquid—Anti-Magic Poison.
"You have grown old, Altair," the assassin rasped. His voice sounded like it came from everywhere and nowhere. "You protect anomalies. You defy the pruning. You have become a weed."
"Who... are you?" Altair wheezed, trying to gather his Qi, but the poison disrupted his core.
"I am Silence," the assassin said. "I am the knife of the Arbiters."
He raised the dagger.
"Goodbye, Emperor."
He thrust the dagger down.
CRACK.
The roof of the tower exploded.
A bolt of black lightning shot down from the sky.
Silence sensed the threat. He twisted his body mid-air, dodging backward.
A sword stabbed into the ground exactly where he had been standing.
A black katana. Antakala.
I landed on the handle of the sword, crouching like a gargoyle. I was wearing my chef's apron (didn't have time to change) and looking very annoyed.
"Sorry to interrupt the party," I said, looking at the assassin. "But that old man owes me a library card."
Silence looked at me. He looked at my cultivation—Foundation Establishment.
He laughed. A dry, rasping sound.
"A student? You send a student to save you, Altair?"
Altair looked up, his vision blurry. "Rudra... run... he is a Half-Step Demigod..."
"Half-Step Demigod?" I pulled Antakala from the stone. The blade hummed, hungry for blood.
"Perfect," I smiled, and the silver light of the Sword Emperor flooded my eyes. "I was worried he would be too soft."
I pointed the blade at Silence.
"Hey, ugly. Have you ever been cut by a concept?"