The three woke up in immense pain.
Their throats felt as if they were being pricked by needles, their heads were burning hot as if about to explode, and tears flowed uncontrollably from their eyes.
Ning Zhou rolled on the ground in agony. “Help! I've been poisoned, I've been poisoned! I think I'm seeing my great-grandparents!”
This torment lasted for about half an hour before a cool, soothing spiritual energy spread along their meridians to all parts of their bodies.
The discomfort vanished in an instant.
Their throats no longer hurt, their heads were no longer burning, and their tears stopped flowing.
Even the wounds sliced by the sword qi on their bodies began to heal, scab over, and flake off at a visible rate.
Even their minds became much clearer.
The three sat up from the ground in a daze.
Ahead, Song Yao was lazily leaning against the Bishui Sword, her entire body enveloped in the green light emitted by the blade.
Seeing them wake up, she casually put away her notebook and pen, saying generously, “No need to thank me. I won't charge you for the Qi-Replenishing Pills this time, but remember to pay of your own accord next time.”
The three fell into a brief silence.
So...
Those agonizing, near-lethal symptoms just now were all caused by her Qi-Replenishing Pills?
Anyone who didn't know better would have thought they had been poisoned and sent straight to hell.
But putting the side effects aside, their horrific wounds had actually mostly healed as the side effects vanished.
Song Yao had given them Qi-Replenishing Pills before, but they had all heard rumors about the side effects, so they hadn't dared to use them.
Now that they tried it, they realized how terrifying the efficacy was.
Could a mere Qi-Replenishing Pill achieve this kind of healing speed and effect?
Song Yao sheathed her sword and landed in front of them. “Any other discomfort? Can you stand up?”
The three hurriedly scrambled up from the ground, all indicating they were fine. Looking around, they were shocked once again.
Was this still the book tower they had entered initially?
It was a complete ruin.
A total mess.
As if it had been thoroughly ransacked.
It would be a miracle to find a single intact book.
Only now did Ning Zhou think to ask, “Where is that fake Ming Ran? Did you win?”
Song Yao glanced at the green slime in the corner. “More or less.”
The others followed her gaze. Ming Ran let out a soft exclamation of surprise. “She was also made of bugs? How could a single bug be so strong? And how did a bug learn our family's Seven Continents Twelve Swords?”
“It wasn't an ordinary demon. When you went to offer incense and pray, she most likely stole your souls and spirits,” Song Yao replied, taking a step toward the passage. “Let's go. Fourth Senior Brother is still waiting.”
Ming Ran's brow furrowed immediately. “But there's still a problem. Only my parents, Eldest Aunt, and Second Uncle know how to enter the door below. We...”
Song Yao interrupted her, “It's already open.”
Ming Ran: “...What?”
Song Yao furrowed her brows, trying to prove her innocence. “It wasn't me. I just came down to take a look, and it opened on its own.”
Ming Ran hurriedly ran down. Sure enough, the heavy stone door below had been opened by a crack.
The sword patterns on the stone door glowed faintly, just like her sword pouch.
Wait.
She suddenly remembered something.
Aside from her father and the others being able to enter, there was another method that every member of the Ming family knew.
That was to cultivate the Seven Continents Twelve Swords to great perfection.
By doing so, one would be considered to have passed the trial of the Ming family's ancestors and could enter or leave any place in the Ming family.
Including the sword tomb.
And now that the sword tomb had opened automatically, it proved...
The scene she saw when she fainted just now was real.
Her little master had really summoned all the swords in her sword pouch, reaching the great perfection of the Seven Continents Twelve Swords.
How was this possible?
To reach this level required spiritual energy support; at the very least, one had to be at the Nascent Soul, or even Deity Transformation Realm to do so...
Isn't Little Master only at the Golden Core stage?
Moreover, she had sparred with Little Master. Although she was defeated in a single blow, she could feel that Little Master indeed lacked spiritual energy and had a weak, deficient constitution. She absolutely could not be at the Nascent Soul Realm.
She might not even reach the mid stage of the Golden Core.
What on earth was going on?
No, there seemed to be another possibility.
Her mother had once said that there was someone in this world with a God-grade metal spiritual root and a Seven-Aperture Exquisite Heart, who reached great perfection in the sword path in just five years and could control all swords under heaven.
While others scrambled for divine swords, divine swords scrambled for this person.
If that person wanted, let alone the Seven Continents Twelve Swords, even all the swords of the entire Ming family would be at her disposal.
To her, the Seven Continents Twelve Swords was not even considered a sword technique.
And that person was the Third Senior Sister of the Nine Saints Hall who had already died in the Earth Realm—Song Yao.
Her heart trembled slightly as she looked up hesitantly.
But didn't Little Master have a wood spiritual root?
Could it be that she, like Third Senior Sister, can also control all swords under heaven?
Then in the future, wouldn't Little Master be highly likely to cultivate to the great perfection of the sword path and become the number one sword cultivator in the Tianshu Realm?
The more she thought about it, the brighter the light in her eyes grew. She turned and knelt before Song Yao with a thud, hugging her thigh. “First Master! Your disciple will definitely show you filial piety!”
Song Yao: “?”
Cheng Yue: “?”
Ning Zhou: “? You're so sycophantic, Ming Ran. I look down on you.”
Ming Ran punched him. “What do you know!”
...
Sure enough, the realm eye was hidden within the sword tomb.
As Song Yao and the others drew near, the sounds of clashing blades and exploding spells from outside became increasingly violent.
The entire Wuzhou City seemed to be shaking slightly.
Ming Ran said anxiously, “Let's hurry. If we delay any longer, I'm worried Fourth Senior Brother won't hold out. Our Ming family's sword array is difficult to withstand even for those at the mid to late stage of the Nascent Soul, let alone Fourth Senior Brother, who is only a talisman cultivator.”
Song Yao wanted to say that Xie Zhou was not like other talisman cultivators, but thought better of it. Swallowing her words, she was the first to step into the realm eye.
The others behind her quickly followed.
The realm eye contracted.
Above Wuzhou City, Xie Zhou seemed to sense something and glanced in that direction.
She had gone out.
The members of the Ming family trapped in the talismans opposite him clearly noticed this too.
Their expressions suddenly distorted. Their eyes turned blood-red, their pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks. The veins around their eyes bulged, and dark green patterns spread from their eye sockets to their temples.
At their head, Eldest Aunt of the Ming family stared deathly at Xie Zhou. Her mouth opened and closed, but what came out was not a human voice, but an extremely eerie, hollow, and ethereal tone: “Do you think they can break this place just by going out?”
“Do you think they can survive?”
“Do you think you can survive?”
“A mere talisman cultivator, overestimating yourself.”
The voice carried a bizarre laugh, like fingernails scraping across a stone slate, sharp and piercing.
At this moment, black mist also erupted from the Ming family members, wrapping around the long swords in their hands. As their positions shifted, a sword array formed, carrying monstrous malice.
However, in the next instant, they sensed something was wrong, and their expressions froze.
A black qi, even denser than theirs, emanated from the transcendent-looking cultivator opposite them.
The pale gold talismans surrounding them were gradually dyed a bizarre, eerie crimson, the cinnabar patterns squirming and reorganizing on the talisman paper.
The spiritual energy dissipated as demonic energy filled the air, carrying raw, savage killing intent.
Then, the cultivator looked up, a mocking smile tugging at his delicate and gentle face. “Who did you say won't survive?”
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