The Seventeen Swords Take Shape

Han Li’s eyes narrowed slightly as he flicked his fingers, and the ten spirit threads snapped apart on their own.

He then patted his storage pouch, sending over a dozen beams of white light flying out. They arranged themselves in a circle beneath the viscous liquid—twelve small jade boxes, all identical.

Each box was carved from flawless white jade, delicate and refined, no more than a few inches in size.

Han Li brushed his sleeve lightly, and all the lids slid open.

“Fall,” he uttered, and the floating globs of thick green liquid dropped into the boxes.

Exactly one glob per box.

Only after he had sealed every lid did his expression finally relax. The real tension had left him.

Even with spirit stones and medicinal pills to assist him, his magic power was nearly depleted.

Thus Han Li sat in meditation for several more days, restoring himself to peak condition. Then he resumed refining the remaining stalks of Divine Thunder Bamboo.

Three months passed in the blink of an eye.

Through an immense expenditure of effort, Han Li finally refined all of the Divine Thunder Bamboo into pure liquid form.

After a brief rest, he began setting up an extremely complex spell formation inside the secluded chamber.

He did not know the formation’s name.

All he knew was that it was an indispensable step for refining the Azure Bamboo Cloudswarm Swords—the golden page had stressed this point repeatedly. Clearly, this was a preparation task of utmost importance.

Even though Han Li had memorized the layout thoroughly and had even attempted it several times in practice, he still proceeded with the utmost caution, unwilling to make the slightest mistake.

A single misdrawn rune could cause an unpredictable accident when the magic treasure was being forged.

Under this tense, vigilant mindset, Han Li spent a full half-month completing the formation. After installing over a dozen mid-grade spirit stones and testing it to confirm normal operation, he finally allowed himself to relax.

But instead of immediately beginning the treasure forging, Han Li left the sealed chamber.

After half a year of continuous use of his natal flame under constant mental strain, even a Core Formation cultivator like himself felt thoroughly worn out. He needed to adjust.

Because the next step was the most critical phase of refining a magic treasure.

Yet as soon as he stepped out of the chamber, an unexpected pleasant surprise awaited him.

The Gold Devourer Beetles, fed intermittently with Rainbow Skirt Grass, had finally begun devouring each other once again.

Han Li was overjoyed.

Ever since the beetle swarm had grown to tens of thousands, the meager supply of Rainbow Skirt Grass had been far from sufficient to induce another round of egg-laying or evolution.

In recent years, Han Li had used most of his Green Liquid to accelerate the growth of the Divine Thunder Bamboo. The beetles’ progress had ground to a halt.

But once the bamboo was fully grown, he immediately instructed Qu Hun to resume intensive nurturing of the insects.

Han Li still held great expectations for these strange insects.

As soon as he received the news from Qu Hun, Han Li went straight to the insect chamber.

After their cannibalistic frenzy, the beetles now bore golden patches covering nearly half their carapaces. He estimated that their next generation would have even larger golden markings.

But after watching for a while, Han Li’s joy gradually faded into a frown.

At this rate, it was far from certain that all the beetles would evolve into a fully golden state.

Each evolution multiplied the swarm’s numbers several times over. Yet the amount of Rainbow Skirt Grass he could force-grow with the Green Liquid was severely limited—nowhere near enough to evolve tens of thousands of beetles in one go. At this pace, the next evolution might not happen for years, or even decades.

Han Li sank into thought outside the insect chamber.

It seemed he would have to focus on cultivating only a small portion of them. Otherwise, he doubted he would ever live to see a golden Gold Devourer Beetle.

Having made that decision, Han Li felt a sense of clarity.

But all of this would have to wait until the beetles had laid their eggs. For now, he could set it aside and concentrate on forging his magic treasure.

And so, after a full month of rest, Han Li chose an auspicious day.

He spent two days in his quarters burning incense and purifying his mind, entering a state of absolute calm. Only then did he return to the sealed chamber and step into the center of the spell formation—the array’s nexus.

With a solemn expression, Han Li waved his hands. Several dozen jade boxes containing the bamboo liquid settled into precise positions around the formation, arranged according to some hidden principle.

Then other containers of various shapes and sizes flew out of his storage pouch, landing before him. Their lids popped open on their own, revealing a collection of auxiliary materials that had already been processed.

Han Li glanced at these materials, took a deep breath, and slowly sat down cross-legged. He closed his eyes and sank into meditation.

After the time it takes to eat a meal, Han Li opened his eyes. A hazy green glow radiated from his body.

The moment this light appeared, the spirit stones embedded in the formation began to shine brilliantly. The entire formation hummed to life.

Han Li did not move his body, but his fingers danced, sending out countless spirit threads. They guided the emerald bamboo liquid out of the jade boxes.

From below, a series of dull thuds echoed. Pillar-thick beams of light shot upward from various points in the formation, enveloping the liquid and holding it motionless within the light pillars.

Seeing this, Han Li closed his eyes again. Calmly, he released his powerful spiritual sense, taking control of every light pillar.

At once, the pillars seemed to come alive. Their colors began to shift and change unpredictably.

A bizarre scene unfolded. After countless shifts, the colors gradually converged.

Finally, after one last transformation, all the pillars stabilized into a uniform fiery red. The green liquid trapped inside appeared even more vividly verdant against the red glow.

Expressionless, Han Li opened his mouth and spat out a stream of emerald-green natal flame, aiming it at one of the pillars.

With a crackling hiss, the pillar burst into roaring flames, instantly transforming into a pillar of blazing fire.

Without hesitation, Han Li spat flame after flame, igniting every single light pillar.

Seventy-two pillars of fire, each over two zhang tall, blazed with intense red light within the sealed chamber.

He let out a faint sigh.

In terms of sheer power, his natal flame was far stronger than these flashy yet impractical pillars. But unfortunately, refining a flying sword was not a matter of maximizing flame intensity.

He had no choice but to accept a temporary loss of vitality and waste so much of his natal flame.

As Han Li brooded over this minor annoyance, the green liquid within the pillars began to slowly deform under the combined influence of his spiritual sense and the formation’s power.

Gradually, the round globs stretched, flattened, and took on rough forms—sword blanks, each about four to five inches long.

It sounded simple enough, but after an entire day and night of intense concentration, seventy-two emerald liquid flying swords finally took shape inside the pillars.

Han Li let out a long breath of relief. His mental tension eased slightly, only for a dull ache to blossom in his head. He could not help but smile wryly.

Simultaneously shaping seventy-two flying swords was an extreme strain even for his formidable spiritual sense.

But even though the crucial phase of spiritual shaping was complete, Han Li dared not relax.

He made a hand seal, and all the fire pillars flickered a few times before vanishing without a trace, leaving only the emerald-green miniature swords floating in midair.

Han Li pointed rapidly, and the swords drifted toward him, surrounding him in a tight circle.

Looking at the seventy-two swords, he bit down on his tongue, drawing a mouthful of essence blood. He spat it out, forming a blood glob the size of a chicken egg before him.

Under his control, the blood glob dripped several drops onto each sword blank.

The moment the essence blood touched the liquid swords, it sank in instantly, disappearing without a trace.

After that, Han Li pointed at a box of silver powder—one of the auxiliary materials—and the powder rose into the air, evenly sprinkling itself over every sword blank, giving them a faint silver gleam.

Next came a box of black powder…

Following the refining method meticulously, Han Li added each auxiliary material one by one to the seventy-two sword blanks. Then he summoned the seventy-two fire pillars once more, sending the swords back inside to begin the next round of refinement.

This time, Han Li did not refine all the swords simultaneously. Instead, he worked on each one individually, carving with painstaking care.

Following the patterns like a copycat, he used his spiritual sense to inscribe miniature spell formations onto the flying swords—formations he did not fully understand himself. He made sure every single line matched the diagrams on the golden page exactly.

(Chapter end)