Chapter 201: Choosing Swords Is Like Women
A faint cracking sound came from the ground.
CRACK.
The soil around the half-buried sword slowly loosened.
The inner disciple’s eyes opened at once, filled with nervous excitement.
He reached out carefully and wrapped both hands around the sword hilt.
The moment his fingers touched it, a sharp wave of sword Qi rushed into his body.
His face turned pale.
"Ugh!"
His knees almost bent, but he forced himself to stay standing.
Damian did not interfere.
He only watched from the side with his arms folded, his expression calmer than usual.
The half-buried sword trembled harder.
CLANG!
The disciple clenched his teeth and pulled. "Come out."
His voice was low but firm. "Please come out."
A second later, the silver glow around the sword pulsed.
The blade slowly rose from the ground.
SHING!
Dust scattered.
The disciple staggered backward while holding the sword in both hands.
His breathing was rough, and his face was pale, but his eyes were bright.
He had actually succeeded.
Damian raised his brow. "Not bad."
The disciple held the sword for a few breaths, then suddenly stepped back.
A soft silver sword light covered the blade.
The disciple swung the sword forward and began performing a series of sword martial arts.
His movements were not extremely fast, and his sword Qi was not terrifying, but every strike was clean and steady.
The new sword moved smoothly in his hands, as if it had been made for those exact techniques.
SWISH!
SWISH!
CLANG!
The disciple turned, stepped, slashed, and stabbed several times in a row.
The silver sword glow followed his movements like flowing water.
Damian watched with interest.
The disciple finally stopped and let out a long breath.
He looked at the sword in his hand, then turned toward Damian and cupped his hands deeply. "Senior Brother Damian, thank you for guarding me."
Damian waved his hand lazily. "I didn’t do anything."
The disciple shook his head. "Senior Brother standing nearby helped me feel safer. If something went wrong, at least someone was there."
Damian shrugged. "Fine, whatever. Now I’ll ask you something. What exactly did you do?"
The disciple straightened and answered honestly, "I used my Qi to connect with the sword. This sword accepted me because my current martial art is quite suitable for it."
Damian touched his chin. "So basically, it was a trial?"
"Yes, Senior Brother." The disciple nodded quickly. "From what I know, every sword has a different trial."
He looked at the sword in his hand again. "I chose this one because its shape was the most suitable for my martial art. I thought if our paths matched, it might accept me."
Damian nodded slowly. "I see."
His gaze moved across the countless swords around him. "So I shouldn’t just look at grade. I need to see what kind of sword is suitable for me."
A faint smile appeared on his face. "Interesting."
The disciple hesitated for a moment, then added carefully, "Senior Brother, some people say that if a sword does not match you, forcing it will only hurt you. Even if you manage to pull it out, the sword may not obey properly."
Damian glanced at him. "It can still disobey after being taken out?"
The disciple nodded. "Yes. Some swords are proud. Some reject the wielder during battle. Some even damage the owner’s meridians if their sword Qi clashes too much."
Damian’s mouth twitched slightly. "Damn. So even getting a sword here is like choosing a woman. Pretty from far away, dangerous when you touch it, and might ruin your life if your compatibility is bad."
The disciple froze.
For a moment, he did not know whether he should laugh or pretend he heard nothing.
In the end, he wisely lowered his head. "Senior Brother’s explanation is... unique."
Damian nodded shamelessly. "Of course. I’m good at explaining difficult things."
The disciple’s expression became even stranger.
---
Damian looked at the inner disciple for a moment, then glanced at the silver sword in his hands. "Now that you’ve taken it out, are you going to leave?"
The disciple shook his head. "No, Senior Brother."
Damian raised his brow. "Oh? You’re not afraid of staying here?"
The disciple smiled awkwardly. "I am afraid, but the sword Qi inside the Sword Tomb is very dense. For sword cultivators, cultivating here is quite good."
Damian nodded lightly. "Makes sense."
The disciple hesitated for a second, then lowered his voice. "Also, Senior Brother... let me tell you something."
Damian looked at him. "What?"
The disciple carefully said, "I heard Senior Brother likes gifting things to girls."
Damian’s expression stiffened. "Your opening is already dangerous."
The disciple quickly coughed. "No, no. I mean... I seem to remember that the Sword Tomb rules don’t specify how many swords a candidate can take out."
Damian’s eyes instantly changed.
A slow, shameless smile appeared on his face. "Junior Brother, thank you for your information."
The disciple’s mouth twitched.
Damian took out two jade bottles and tossed them over. "Here. Two bottles of Top-Rank Profound Grade [Spirit Gathering Pills]. I don’t need them anymore anyway."
The disciple caught them and froze. "Senior Brother, this..."
Damian waved his hand. "Although you’re not even a woman, I appreciate useful information. Take them."
The disciple immediately cupped his hands, his face full of surprise. "Thank you so much, Senior Brother Damian."
Damian nodded and turned away.
The disciple watched his back disappear into the gray mist.
After a moment, he muttered softly, "Senior Brother Damian is shameless and perverted, but he’s actually quite decent."
His eyes grew colder. "Different from Nolan, who looks righteous on the outside but is rotten as hell inside."
The disciple tightened his grip around the silver sword.
He had heard many rumors recently.
Nolan’s reputation was no longer as spotless as before, and many inner disciples had started whispering behind his back.
Some still did not dare say anything openly, but their eyes had already changed.
Compared to that kind of fake righteous bastard, Damian’s shamelessness was at least obvious.
He acted like a damn pervert whenever he saw a beautiful woman.
Yet when it mattered, he did not bully weaker disciples for no reason, nor did he pretend to be some holy saint.
The disciple looked at the two jade bottles in his hand and let out a quiet breath. "For someone like me, these pills are already a big fortune."
He carefully put them away, then sat down beside his newly obtained sword.
The silver blade rested across his knees.
Dense sword Qi drifted around him like mist.
He closed his eyes and began cultivating, no longer thinking about going deeper.
He knew his own limits.
Greed might give him a better sword, but it might also leave his corpse buried among these blades.