Chapter 59 - Dragon Emperor Sword
These two techniques were almost two sides of the same coin.
Furthermore, he had finalized his long-term cultivation plan. His calculations and even consulting with Bai Qingxian showed that a standard Golden Core cultivation base was too risky to safely execute the surgery. Reconstructing a complex meridian network required a massive, continuous volume of Qi and a divine sense. Only a Nascent Soul expert can handle that much extensive stress.
’I should try to break through to the Nascent Soul Realm before the surgery, but if it doesn’t happen....,’ Su Ming decided, keeping his plan strictly to himself. He realised he must look for alternative options as well.
In the afternoons, Su Ming sat in the herb garden with Elder Bai Zhen and Bai Qingxian, studying the basic alchemical manuals and recipe books he had purchased from the Vermilion Flame Peak. Gaining a solid grasp of basic heating and reactant behaviors, he coordinated with Elder Bai Zhen to calibrate the cauldron setup.
Two weeks of relentless, daily training passed.
On a quiet evening, Su Ming sat at his desk. Without activating the Lantern, his index finger projected a silver Qi thread. It pulled inward, the outer edges dissolving into a perfectly condensed form. A microscopic, hair-thin filament manifested, hovering silently above the desk. It was completely stable, casting a faint silver glow on his fingers.
Su Ming opened his eyes, looking at the perfect thread. His hands no longer trembled, and his breathing remained steady. The micro-thread control was finally his own, locked into his physical muscle memory.
"Perfect," Bai Qingxian said, stepping into the room. A rare, genuine smile touched her face as she looked at the silver thread. "You have mastered the Spirit Piercing Needle Technique’s Twelve-Pulse Foundation completely. We are ready to begin the elixir refinement."
Before Su Ming could reply, the peak’s defense barrier rippled. A flying message talisman darted through the window, hovering before Su Ming. It dissolved into a simple, burning line of text.
The swords are finished. Return to the forge immediately. - Elder Tie
Su Ming was surprised by the sudden summons but did not delay. He left the peak and flew back to the Forging Hall.
When he reached Elder Tie’s private chamber, the massive iron door stood open. The air inside was hot enough to scorch wood, and the room was filled with a strange, pure white light that pulsed from the center.
Elder Tie was sitting on the stone floor, leaning against his anvil. He looked completely drained—his beard was singed, his skin covered in thick ash, and his chest heaving with exhaustion. Yet his eyes were wide and filled with a wild, triumphant light.
On the stone table lay the two swords, resting beside two custom-crafted sheaths. The first sheath was wrapped in heat-resistant, dark lava-leather and trimmed with volcanic gold, made for the Crimson Heaven Sword. The second sheath was a bone-white scabbard carved with azure suppression runes, specifically designed to contain and mask the raw, volatile thunder-fire aura of the companion blade.
The Crimson Heaven Sword had been completely transformed, its blade glowing with a deep crimson-gold luster that pulsed with heat. The new sword lay next to it. Its hilt and guard were polished bone-white, while the blade possessed a deep obsidian-black metallic luster, its razor-sharp edges shimmering with interwoven hues of azure, crimson, and violet. Both blades hummed with a low, divine resonance that caused the air to vibrate.
Su Ming stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he felt the intense, qualitative shift in the swords’ auras.
"Both of them..." Elder Tie whispered, his voice dry and trembling. "They are my absolute best work to date, Su Ming. The dragon bones, the scales, and the purity of your crystals... they pushed these blades to the absolute peak of the Mystic rank. They are so sharp and carry such high-density heat that they can even bypass the defenses of an Avatar Formation rank cultivator without any resistance."
He pointed a calloused finger at the bone-white hilt. "The first is your reforged Crimson Heaven Sword. As for the second..." A trace of pride surfaced in his eyes. "Dragon Emperor Sword." He let the name settle in the silence before saying, "Some swords are forged to kill. This one... was forged to rule."
Elder Tie slowly shook his head, a trace of regret in his eyes. "If only my own skills were higher... if only I were a Blacksmith Saint, I could have forged them into true Saint-rank swords. What a pity. However, the process of forging these has given me crucial insights into the Saint rank itself. I finally see the path forward to breaking my bottleneck. For that, I must thank you."
He reached into his leather apron and pulled out a heavy, dark iron communication token carved with his personal crest. He handed it to Su Ming.
"From now on, Su Ming, if you ever need anything forged or repaired, contact me directly. You do not need to go through the registries. You have my word."
Su Ming accepted the token, then picked up the two swords, sliding them smoothly into their respective sheaths. The bone-white scabbard immediately suppressed the volatile fire and thunder of the Dragon Emperor Sword, locking the energy away. He bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder Tie."
Returning to White Lotus Peak under the cover of night, Su Ming entered his study and laid the two Peak Mystic-rank swords on the desk. Bai Qingxian stared at the weapons, her calm composure shaken by the sheer quality of the blades, recognizing their nature, the deep obsidian-black metallic luster reflecting its interwoven sheens, and the bone-white hilts and guards.
Su Ming adjusted his sleeves, a calm smile on his face. "Now, let us begin the elixir."
***
Two weeks passed.
The elixir work settled into a quiet rhythm under the lively background of the White Lotus Peak. Elder Bai Zhen monitored the process, Bai Qingxian guided the stages, and Su Ming handled the critical Qi control phases. It was slow, unforgiving, and tiring work.
Wang Tian did not have a role in the elixir work. He understood this.
He rose before dawn each day and went to the eastern garden rows, where Elder Bai Zhen had assigned him the morning’s soil work — turning earth, hauling filled clay pots, clearing the drainage channels between the planting beds. It was mortal labor. No cultivator on any ranked peak in the sect would bother with it. Wang Tian did not complain. He worked until the light came up fully and his arms felt heavy, and then he washed his hands and came to the afternoon lecture.
Su Ming and Bai Qingxian had begun teaching both him and Lin Yao the basic anatomy of the meridian network. Not because it would help him heal, but as the surgery would be done on his body, and Su Ming had decided that Wang Tian would go in knowing exactly what was going to happen to him. Every stage. Every risk. He would understand the map before he walked into it.
Wang Tian studied without complaint.
When the lecture ended, he took the practice sword he got on the first day and went to the courtyard. There, alone, he practiced the Cloud Chasing Sword Technique. Over and over, form after form, until his arms shook and his vision blurred at the edges.
He had already mastered its movements, but it did not matter. He swung it anyway.
On the fourteenth day after the elixir work began, a figure appeared at the peak’s open gate.
She was alone, dressed in the red outer robes of Vermilion Flame Peak. Su Ming had placed an order with Elder Ling some days prior, and it was assigned to her to make the delivery. Tapping her storage ring, she retrieved a sealed, runic wooden box containing the ingredients, holding it in her hand as she stepped through the gate.
That someone was Zhang Yuexin, the ex-fiancée of Lin Fan and Wang Tian.
She stepped through the gate and stopped.
Wang Tian was in the center of the courtyard, his practice sword raised, moving through the third form of the Cloud Chasing Sword Technique. His arms were shaking. His breathing was ragged. His outer robe was damp at the shoulders.
He had no Qi. Not in his dantian, not in his meridians, not anywhere in his body that she could sense. She had heard he was injured. Hearing it and seeing it were entirely different things.
Zhang Yuexin set the sealed, runic box down on the stone gate post.
Wang Tian stopped when he noticed her. He lowered his sword, wiped his hands on a cloth tucked into his belt, and looked at her without expression.
"I was not expecting to find you here," Zhang Yuexin said. It came out more carefully than she intended. "I did not know you had joined an outer peak in the Heavenly Cloud Sect."