Chapter Fifty-Six: The Acquisition of the Blade

This was a small cave, not vast in size. Inside, a spiral passage twisted downward into the earth. Cultivators, whose eyes could easily pierce dozens of meters through the darkness, found their vision useless here—the deeper they went, the more absolute the blackness became.

After their initial shock, those who had entered quickly collected themselves and began to feel their way forward. Ye Feng stumbled unevenly along the passage, descending nearly thirty meters before he saw a faint glow below. After another ten or so meters, the group arrived at the source of the light.

Before their eyes lay the remnants of antiquity. The walls were forged from diamond-hard adamantine rock. Set into the ceiling at intervals of several yards were luminous pearls, casting their gentle radiance across the chamber.

A young cultivator could not help but exclaim, “What extravagance! A single luminous pearl is worth a fortune, yet here so many are used simply for lighting!” His eyes gleamed with longing, fixed intently on those pearls.

Ye Feng shot him a look. “Show some dignity, boy. This was obviously carved out by human hands. If you trigger any mechanism, we’ll all die here.”

“Ah, I... I was just saying...” The youth’s bravado faded instantly, a chill creeping down his back. Now, when he looked at the pearls, their light stung his eyes.

“If my guess is correct, this is likely a tomb,” someone else observed, scanning the surroundings.

“A tomb? But where would you find such treasures in a grave?” a young woman asked skeptically.

“In ancient times, powerful figures were countless, and it was common to be buried with spiritual artifacts,” another replied.

Hearing this, the group fell silent, standing in disciplined order as they examined their surroundings. The chamber was about fifty square meters, its adamantine walls riddled with passages stretching into the distance.

Ye Feng and Xiao Chong chose one passage and walked toward the brighter end. Their footsteps echoed—tap, tap, tap—in the empty corridor, heightening the eerie, chilling atmosphere.

It was an utterly bizarre scene. Though deep underground and sweltering with heat, cold sweat soaked their backs.

Following the winding passage, the two arrived at a bright grand hall. Shielded from wind and rain, the underground chamber still bore the scars of endless years, its ancient traces unmistakable.

On each wall were exquisite reliefs—gods, demons, and monsters from myth and legend. These carvings, brought to life by the luminous pearls, seemed almost to possess souls, as if at any moment they might break free from the stone.

At the center of the ancient hall stood a white jade pedestal, its crystalline glow revealing the highest quality of precious stone. Yet it was not the pedestal that drew Ye Feng’s gaze, but the blade above it—a treasured saber, engraved with a divine dragon, hovered silently over the jade, emanating an eerie light.

Around the pedestal, a thick layer of white powder blanketed the floor. Xiao Chong cried out as if he had seen a ghost, “This is bone dust! That thick—how many must have died here for it to accumulate?”

Ye Feng paid no heed to Xiao Chong’s panic. As if entranced, he stepped closer to the jade pedestal; in the silent hall, only his own footsteps resounded.

...

Scenes flashed through Ye Feng’s mind. He seemed transported to an ancient battlefield. The roars of countless armies tore through his soul; thousands fell every second, and rivers of blood flowed unceasingly.

Suddenly, all vanished. A single, heaven-spanning blade-light slashed down, cleaving the earth. Soldiers and horses plummeted with howls into a bottomless abyss.

The blood, like a river, streamed into the chasm, cascading like a waterfall from the heavens.

Buzz...

The saber on the jade pedestal trembled as if awakened, humming with resonance.

Ye Feng reached out and seized the blade. A strange familiarity surged within him, as if greeting an old friend long lost.

Rumble...

The moment Ye Feng gripped the blade, the entire tomb boomed, as if on the verge of collapse.

“Ah! There’s someone here!” In the distance, another youth shouted in terror at his discovery.

As the words faded, tangible waves of power rippled through the tomb, shaking the structure and causing loose stones to fall, though the chamber held firm.

“Let’s go!” Ye Feng commanded, striding toward the source of the cry, blade in hand.

In another burial chamber, a crystal coffin levitated in midair. Unlike ordinary burials, this coffin stood upright in the void, with a man standing silently within.

His hair hung to his shoulders; his bronze skin radiated raw power. A single glance sent chills through the heart—what kind of being was this? Dead for ten thousand years, he still exuded a dominating presence.

Xiao Chong stared at the crystal coffin, then whispered, “Could this be the God-Phoenix King, gone for centuries?”

The word ‘gone’ sent a shock through Ye Feng’s soul. He barely dared believe the sudden thought in his heart.

“He’s not dead!” Ye Feng declared suddenly. Clearly, the domain remained—how could its master be gone?

Boom...

Everyone was stunned, turning to look at him.

“He isn’t dead,” Ye Feng murmured, gazing at the magnificent figure within the coffin.

“That is indeed the God-Phoenix King,” a youth said, pointing at the wall reliefs. “Centuries ago, a legendary figure split Death Valley in the north with a single strike—doesn’t this carving depict that very scene?”

At this, the group turned to the wall. The relief showed a man standing atop the Western Candle Dragon, cleaving the heavens with his blade.

Another panel matched the vision Ye Feng had seen: the blade’s light carving a chasm, soldiers wailing as they fell into its depths.

Ye Feng circled below the crystal coffin. Behind the jade pedestal, he found more bone dust; nearby, a pile of shattered bones lay scattered.

The broken bones gleamed, emitting a powerful aura. Ye Feng’s conviction grew—this place was not ancient. Most likely, when the God-Phoenix King ascended, powerful foes had attacked, but the King had prevailed by a narrow margin.

For this was his domain.

Yet the attackers were no ordinary adversaries, or the God-Phoenix King would not have sealed himself away.

“Dragon Sky Sword Manual...” Suddenly Xiao Chong cried out in excitement, “It’s the Dragon Sky Sword Manual lost by my Xiao clan!” He rushed to a set of remains, clutching a strange book to his chest, eyeing the others warily.

But it was too late; his shout had drawn greedy stares from several people, who began to close in, their intent obvious.

“Treasure here belongs to those fated for it. Do you intend to start a fight?” Ye Feng strode forward, his words forceful and commanding.

The crowd snapped back to their senses, recalling the carnage outside the tomb, breaking into cold sweats. The image of Lord Wu, ruthless in protection, was deeply etched in their hearts.

“The God-Phoenix King was a master of creation; his treasures are surely many. Do you think you’ll just stand here and have them come to you?” Ye Feng said again.

Without another glance at the scattering crowd, Ye Feng hurried to Xiao Chong’s side and scolded him under his breath, “Are you an idiot? You find treasure here and announce it to the world. If you want to die, don’t be so hasty about it!”

Xiao Chong grinned sheepishly. “I was just too excited. You don’t know what the Dragon Sky Sword Manual means to the Xiao family!”

Then, glancing around to make sure no one was near, he pointed at a broken skeleton ahead. “The Sword Manual was found right here. That might have been the Sword Saint from the Holy Land.”

“Someone from the Holy Land?” Ye Feng stepped up to examine the remains. “There’s writing at his feet.”

“Oh?” Xiao Chong brightened and knelt beside Ye Feng for a closer look.

Carved into the adamantine floor, a few words—etched with a finger in mighty strokes—radiated powerful intent.

“The God-Phoenix lives... a plan of a hundred...” The first words were bold and clear, but the rest faded into obscurity, the final characters unreadable.

“We should leave—something’s wrong here!”

No sooner had Ye Feng spoken than another startled cry sounded nearby, quickly muffled.

The two hurried over, finding a young woman standing before a wall relief, her face enraptured.

“Don’t touch that!” Another youth, standing closer to the relief, shouted, but it was too late. The woman, lost in a daze, placed her hand on the carving.

Rumble...

The tomb shook violently; stones rained down from above. The place seemed on the verge of collapse.

“Leave...”

A powerful voice echoed through the chamber and into their minds. At once, a gentle force lifted them up and cast them out of the cave.