A Prototype Is Forged

Bu Feng and Ji Ning had been fighting for an entire day and night. The Empyrean God Jiujie had long since sealed off the surrounding area, preventing the villagers from witnessing the battle. The only ones who could watch from the sidelines were the Empyrean God himself and the grimy youth.

“Huff, huff, huff…” Bu Feng’s face was pale.

He had been pouring everything he had into the fight. Long ago, he had exhausted his Zifu-level true ki and had been forced to rely on pills to replenish his energy. Now, even his pills were completely depleted. His heart was frantic. He knew very well that pills were nothing compared to a chance to cross blows with this mysterious existence. This was incredible luck, and he desperately wished the fight could continue.

“Alright, you can stop now,” Ji Ning said. He could feel that his opponent’s attacks were weakening, his true ki clearly spent.

Bu Feng had no choice but to halt.

“Here are some pills to replenish your true ki.” Ji Ning tossed him a bottle of pills.

Bu Feng caught it. A quick inspection sent a surge of shock and ecstasy through him.

Heavens!

Even a Primal Daoist probably couldn’t produce so many pills! What he didn’t realize was that these were spoils from the Realm War, where Ji Ning had massacred countless Immortals and demons. Back then, he had killed so many Loose Immortals—a single White-Faced Flood Dragon formation alone held a hundred thousand of them, each carrying a trove of Immortal-grade medicine. This single bottle Ji Ning casually tossed out was just a fraction of his loot. For a mere Zifu Disciple like Bu Feng, it was truly an unprecedented windfall.

“Senior, I can continue fighting!” Bu Feng said eagerly.

“That’s enough,” Ji Ning said with a smile. “Jiujie, let’s go.”

“Yes, Lord Prefectural Lord.” The Empyrean God Jiujie spoke with reverence.

Whoosh.

The white-robed youth and the bald-headed old servant vanished without a trace.

“This… this…” Bu Feng was shaking with excitement. This single bottle of pills, comparable in value to a Primal Daoist’s entire treasury, was his ticket to advancement. And the profound sword-arts he had recorded during the battle… they were a lighthouse on his path of Immortal cultivation, enabling him to walk far and achieve his deepest desires.

“Father?” The grimy youth at his side looked at him.

“Let’s go home. Hurry home.” Bu Feng grabbed his son and rushed back to their thatched cottage inside the village. He immediately began transcribing the sword-arts he had memorized, terrified of forgetting them.

In the days that followed…

Bu Feng taught his son and contemplated the sword-arts. He finally stepped into the threshold of the ‘Dao of the Sword’. Sixteen years later, when he returned to his old sect, he had become a true expert of the sword.

…

On a riverboat.

“Lord Prefectural Lord, that sword-art you displayed was the ‘Five Treasures Sword Art’ created by the number one Sword Immortal of the Three Realms. It is a swordsmanship that surpasses the limits of the Heavenly Dao. Even a tiny fragment of it is an incredible fortune for that Zifu Disciple,” the Empyrean God Jiujie remarked. The sheer pressure of witnessing the Five Treasures Sword Art firsthand was enough to overwhelm even Celestial Immortals.

As for scattered techniques, seeing mere motions meant nothing.

But Ji Ning had personally demonstrated them. He had even sparred with Bu Feng. Only then could Bu Feng truly grasp the power behind those moves, making them far easier to comprehend.

“I have gained some insights as well,” Ji Ning said with a smile.

In truth, within the first half-hour of sparring with Bu Feng, he had already thoroughly understood his opponent’s techniques. The reason he had fought for an entire day and night was so that he could test himself and gain new realizations.

“Three thousand li away, there is a Zifu Disciple who is quite skilled in the sword. Let’s go.” Ji Ning’s Heartforce swept out and he located a Zifu Disciple practicing flying sword techniques three thousand li away. His skill was quite impressive.

Atop a mountain peak, a gray-robed woman with a scarred face was standing, remotely controlling a flying sword.

Suddenly, a white-robed youth and a bald old man appeared beside her.

“What?” The scarred woman was startled. She quickly bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Senior.”

“Use your flying sword. Attack me with everything you’ve got,” the white-robed youth said.

“Ah…” The woman was stunned. This mysterious youth was truly strange, but she dared not refuse. She immediately began her assault.

…

Time flowed on, day after day.

The Seamless Gate Godkings, who commanded the various branches of their alliance, occasionally probed the area. They tracked Ji Ning this way for half a month. Finally, the Godking lost patience. In his eyes, Ji Ning was not a real threat—just a minor nuisance. In the grand scheme of the Three Realms, the true existential threat to the Seamless Gate was the preparation for the final war that True Gods and Daofathers of the Nuwa Alliance were secretly making.

“This Ji Ning is actually dueling those laughably weak mortals, practicing his swordsmanship like this? How laughable. Even if he gains some insights, how strong can he get?” the Godking sneered, no longer interested.

“Keep watch over Ji Ning. If he dares to ambush our Seamless Gate forces, report immediately.” After issuing his orders, the Godking turned his attention to the countless other important matters plaguing him.

…

Days passed. Months passed. Years passed…

Ji Ning walked the Three Realms. The Zifu Disciples and Wanxiang Adepts at the bottom of the cultivation ladder were very weak, but different regions gave rise to vastly different combat styles. The myriad minor worlds, in particular, produced wildly divergent styles, and some of their swordplay concepts left Ji Ning utterly astounded.

Countless combat styles. Ji Ning duelled them all, abandoning his mana, Heartforce, and Sword-force. He fought them on equal terms, using only a Houtian level of power against Zifu Disciples and a Xiantian level against Wanxiang Adepts.

These fights gave him many new insights into the ‘Five Treasures Sword Art’. His many clones were also busy absorbing the essence of these battles through analysis and deduction.

One day, nine years later.

This was a beautiful, scenic minor world. It was very remote, and Immortals and demons rarely passed through. Ji Ning had only found it after wandering the Three Realms for so long. The world’s population was vast, comparable to Ji Ning’s former world of ‘Earth’. Its power levels were divided into ‘Mortal’, ‘Earth’, ‘Heaven’, and ‘Legendary’ tiers. In truth, these corresponded exactly to Houtian, Xiantian, Zifu, and Wanxiang.

Their cultivation arts were extremely crude. Anyone who managed to reach the ‘Legendary’ tier was no weaker in Dao-comprehension than a Primal Daoist of the Grand Xia world. Some Legendary-tier experts had even comprehended a complete Dao. It was only thanks to such a high level of insight that they were able to force their way to the Wanxiang level through such crude arts.

The Refining Sword Manor was one of the holy lands of this minor world.

Its master was known as the Sword Saint. He was a Legendary-tier existence. The entire world had only three Legendary-tier experts in total, and the Sword Saint was acknowledged as the strongest.

“Master.”

Thirteen disciples stood respectfully before him.

Seated cross-legged in front of them was a plainly dressed middle-aged man—the Sword Saint! The number one expert of the world.

These thirteen disciples were the core thirteen of his ‘Fifteen Heavenly Swords’.

“Number six. You go first,” the Sword Saint said.

“Yes, Master.” The sixth disciple bowed.

And then—

Whoosh.

A white-robed youth and a bald old man appeared next to them. The Sword Saint, facing that direction, was the first to notice the sudden appearance of these two figures. His expression instantly changed. “Impossible for them to silently approach within a hundred zhang of me without me even noticing!”

His shock alarmed his thirteen disciples, who also turned to look. They, too, were startled by the sudden arrivals, but they were not panicked. After all, their master was the acknowledged number one expert in the world. There were indeed some people who excelled at stealth.

“This is the forbidden area of the Refining Sword Manor! State your names immediately!” the sixth disciple barked.

“You are reputed to be the strongest and most skilled swordsman in this world,” the white-robed youth said, ignoring them and addressing the Sword Saint directly. “Draw your sword. Use your strongest technique.”

“Didn’t you hear—” The thirteen disciples grew angry.

The Empyrean God Jiujie glanced at them and said softly, “Sleep.”

Thud, thud, thud…

All thirteen disciples collapsed to the ground, fast asleep.

This scene utterly shocked the Sword Saint. More than half of his thirteen disciples were at the ‘Heaven’ tier! And all of them had been put to sleep in an instant. Such a feat was utterly incomprehensible.

“Ah, in a major world, this wouldn’t be such a hassle,” Ji Ning said with a sigh. He then released a sliver of his aura.

The Sword Saint suddenly felt like an ant facing a vast, raging ocean, frail and insignificant. He could not even move a single muscle under the formless pressure.

Ji Ning retracted his aura.

He had to show some true power. This ‘Number One Under Heaven’ Sword Saint, accustomed to his title, might not otherwise clearly recognize the gap between them. In a major world, the man would have long since respectfully addressed him as ‘Senior’.

“Attack,” Ji Ning said.

“Senior, your power is truly remarkable. I, Mutong, have roamed the world for a hundred years, believing myself to be the number one expert. Now I see I was just a frog at the bottom of a well,” the Sword Saint said, looking at Ji Ning. “Over the years, I have created the Ninety-Nine Refining Swords. Please, offer your guidance.”

Even though he understood the gap, the pride of being the world’s strongest for so many years made him want to prove himself through his swordsmanship.

A moment later…

“Impossible…”

“This…”

He was completely stunned.

“Using only the strength and speed of an ‘Earth’ tier, he can block all my sword-arts?” The Sword Saint was in a daze. His greatest pride was his swordsmanship. But compared to this man’s art, the man’s seemingly ordinary moves were so profound that he could not understand them at all. Yet, even while pondering, he was gaining insights. In the brief moment of their spar, the sword-arts he comprehended in his heart were already far superior to his own Ninety-Nine Refining Swords, which he had polished for years.

“This Sword Saint is from a minor world, but his abilities are indeed excellent. He has comprehended an ordinary Dao and has even set foot on the threshold of the Grand Dao of the Sword.”

“Of all the Wanxiang Adepts I have chosen, he is the most skilled swordsman.”

Ji Ning was also being cautious. He was using Xiantian-level power against Wanxiang Adepts, but he had been steadily seeking out stronger and stronger ones. This was the first time he had chosen an opponent who, at the Wanxiang level, had already comprehended a Heavenly Dao.

Whoosh!

A dark, abyssal power radiated from Ji Ning’s sword. It was like a black hole.

No matter how frenzied the Sword Saint’s sword-arts were, they were utterly devoured by this vortical technique.

“My defensive sword technique has finally begun to take shape.” Joy welled up in Ji Ning’s heart. Over the many years of dueling, his understanding of the ‘Dao of the Sword’ had deepened, and he could even faintly glimpse his future path. A vague outline of a sword-art had begun to take shape in his mind, a sword-art he suspected might contain five stances.

Of course, none of these five stances had been fully created yet. It was only now, while sparring with this ‘Sword Saint’, that Ji Ning finally managed to forge a rough prototype for one of them.

(PS: Ji Ning’s ultimate sword-art has begun to take shape… Also, please drop some free recommendation tickets!)