LRAB Chapter 641: The Night Emperors Sword
Chapter 641: The Night Emperors Sword
Chapter 641: The Night Emperor's Sword
In truth, Lady Three felt a twinge of jealousy in her heart.
Zhao Changhe’s attitude was clear. While he was undoubtedly excited about forging the Night Emperor’s sword, it was nothing more than a martial artist’s pure enthusiasm for crafting a divine weapon. He had no desire to inherit the Night Emperor’s destiny, nor did he care for winning the Four Idols Cult’s devotion. In fact, he seemed wary and reluctant about it.
Given Lady Three’s current understanding of cultivation, she could comprehend his hesitation. To take on the legacy of the Night Emperor meant carrying a karmic burden that would need to be repaid in the future. This was an incredibly dangerous and burdensome risk.
The rational choice, if one wished to avoid such burdens, would be to simply forge a sword for personal use—an object, nothing more. The karmic weight of that would be far lighter.
Yet, he still chose to pursue this path. He was willing to make things more difficult for himself, to find a convoluted way to mitigate the risk, and he was doing this for Vermillion Bird.
His choices boiled down to two: either he joined the Four Idols Cult and embraced their doctrine, or he became so integral to the Cult’s interests that potential conflicts were eliminated. The former was impossible for him; he had no interest in pledging himself to their faith. So he chose the hardest path: the latter.
He really, truly cared for Vermillion Bird.
Of course, fierce women were the ones who truly stirred the heart, were they not?
Lady Three scrunched her nose, her tone tinged with sourness as she said, “You managed to reforge Dragon Bird all by yourself. What do you need me for?”
Zhao Changhe smiled. “I need you to control the fire. I have to focus entirely on the sword’s intent and the stars. I won’t have the spare attention to manage the heat.”@@@@
Fine...
Lady Three glanced at the sword blank he had brought out, feeling a surge of excitement herself.
Despite the pang of jealousy, she was Black Tortoise of the Four Idols Cult. The prospect of forging the Night Emperor’s sword was electrifying—it was a significant event for their faith.
Besides, this was part of her own karmic destiny. In ancient times, the Black Tortoise had assisted the Night Emperor in forging his sword. No one really understood why a water-element entity would help with the task of smithing, but now, as history repeated itself, here she was once again assisting in this sacred task. There was a strange sense of continuity in it all.
With a determined expression, Lady Three produced two crystalline cores and tossed them to the ground. Two lumbering water constructs materialized, immediately kneeling before her. “Our goddess...”
Zhao Changhe gawked. “When did you learn to summon minions like this?”
“I’m the Sea God now, remember? Want to fight me?”
“...Maybe some other day.”
“You said it yourself—give Vermillion Bird nine-tenths of what I can, not everything. Why take such risks for her? Am I not worth it?”
“...”
Lady Three snorted, but despite her sharp words, she directed the two water constructs to fan the flames.
The forge’s regular fire was sufficient to heat up Dragon Bird, but for the Night Emperor’s sword blank, greater intensity was needed. With Lady Three controlling the fire, Zhao Changhe could finally devote his full attention to the sword itself.
He took a deep breath and placed the sword blank into the furnace.
This was an almost-complete sword blank, needing only the final touch to become a finished weapon. Although it lacked an edge and still looked rather rough, it was still somewhat usable, as proven when Zhao Changhe shot it to kill the giant octopus possessed by the Sea Emperor’s yin qi.
The reason it had not been finished yet was the absence of the crucial material: Night Flowing Sand.
It was the formation of a spirit.
The blind woman involuntarily clenched her delicate hands. Though she was a spirit and thus lacked body fluids, she could almost feel the sweat trickling down her palms.
She had always thought Zhao Changhe did not fully grasp the concept of the stars. She had expected him to fail, ready to watch with detached amusement, anticipating the moment he would sulk and mutter, “Blindie, what do I do now? Give me some tips...”
But Zhao Changhe, quiet and unassuming in spite of his usual personality, had been refining his understanding in secret. Without a word, he had developed a sword intent that was truly his own—a profound expression of his personal interpretation of the stars.
Was it Xia Chichi’s choice of the national title that had inspired him? But back then, he had not shown any particular sign of comprehension... Could it be that Zhao Changhe was now deliberately concealing his intentions, even from her?
With the Milky Way unfurled, Zhao Changhe continued onward.
A robust beam of sword qi shot skyward, piercing the heavens. The cold, hazy glow of the moon shimmered into view, faint yet resolute.
With the moon’s presence established, the constellations of the four idols began to ignite. They emerged almost simultaneously—four radiant constellations glowing in harmony. He was not avoiding the four idols; rather, he sought to encompass them.
At the exact moment the four idols flared to life, Lady Three, who was diligently controlling the flames, sensed something and turned toward him, eyes wide with shock.
Far away in the Empress Dowager’s quarters, Huangfu Qing abruptly stood, her gaze drawn northward.
In the imperial study, where Xia Chichi and Tang Wanzhuang were in a private discussion, Xia Chichi suddenly sprang to her feet, nearly knocking over the inkstone on her desk.
Tang Wanzhuang blinked in confusion. “Your Majesty, what’s wrong?”
Xia Chichi’s face had gone pale. In a trembling voice, she murmured, “Has the Night Emperor descended? No... This intent is similar, but it’s not... Is this... Changhe?”
In an instant, Huangfu Qing, Xia Chichi, and numerous of the Four Idols Cult’s followers transformed into streaks of light, all racing toward the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
They left Tang Wanzhuang alone in the imperial study, staring at the now-empty room, stunned.
A vast assembly of members of the Four Idols Cult gathered at the entrance to the Imperial Ancestral Temple, their breaths collectively held in anticipation.
Huangfu Qing, wearing her Vermillion Bird mask, took her place at the forefront. She raised a hand, silencing the restless murmurs. In a low voice, she commanded, “Stay calm. Do not disturb him.”
Xia Chichi sidled up, whispering urgently, “Is he going to... fail, venerable? The intent seems to be wavering...”
“He’s just shy of success...” Huangfu Qing looked skyward, where dawn’s light threatened the night, though the sun had yet to rise.
“Just shy of success... Like the Night Emperor back then, missing the final crucial step. The Night Emperor lacked the perfected intent, but he...”
Xia Chichi muttered softly, “His cultivation?”
Below, Zhao Changhe’s robes were soaked with sweat. Xia Chichi was right.
His sword intent was aligned, his vision true—but his cultivation was lacking. The second layer of the Profound Mysteries was simply insufficient.
Beside him, Lady Three was also drenched in sweat. Even the fire, fierce as it was, could not sustain the forge for such an ambitious undertaking.
In the traditions of the ancients, when forging a divine sword faced either a deficiency of intent or a lacking fire, there was one common, desperate solution: to offer oneself to the flames, to heat the sword with the blaze of one’s own body and soul.