"Divine... Summer..."
Xiulotte murmured to himself, chanting these two words softly. An odd sense of destiny surged through his heart in an instant, as if carrying a power that could shake the soul. Moments later, facing the crowd, he lifted the three-foot Qin Sword and solemnly announced in a loud voice.
"By the Chief Divine’s witness! This is the Divine Summer Sword! My King’s sword!"
"Generals, play music for me!"
At the King’s command, everyone obediently followed. Olosh blew the bamboo flute, Ugus sounded the Bone ocarina, and Toltec beat the war drum. The fluttering flute, the desolate ocarina, and the rousing drumbeat resounded together in the Stone Hall, accompanied by the chorus of the generals.
Xiulotte stood in the center of the great hall, slowly drawing the sharp treasure sword. He gently traced the Sword Spine with the pad of his finger, turbulent emotions swirling in his chest, countless memories flooding his mind, all finally turning into the verses he recited.
"The treasure sword is born with a pure intent, a single purpose through ten springs."
The King gazed upward slightly. He remembered the pure feelings when he first came to this world, and the child with clear eyes in the Butterfly Palace.
"I fall from the pyramid, I come from the Butterfly Palace. I bring a pure heart, like the spring water of spring."
At these words, Olosh’s expression changed. Having watched the boy grow up, many memories were naturally indelible.
"Once I mistakenly drank the blood of the mortal world, henceforth murderous intent accompanies me,"
Xiulotte lowered his eyes, his left hand making a blocking gesture while his right arm thrust forward the long sword. This was the motion of his first kill, something he couldn’t forget for a long time.
"I swung my weapon, I became a Samurai stained with blood. I silently prayed to the War God, knowing that from then on, death would ensue!"
"Dragon chants stir the shallow depths as the sword in the sheath longs to sweep across."
Xiulotte circled the sword around his chest, making a gesture of sheathing the sword. He recalled the time trapped in Tizoc’s army, and his first meeting with Aweit, their shared discussions and aspirations. In those days, it was dragon met sword, and King met King.
"I’ve experienced the first battle, I’ve held a funeral for the divine. I am the fledgling eagle just out of the nest, in pursuit of sacred glory!"
Bertade’s eyes deepened. After a while, he clenched his fist to his chest and bowed his head in salute.
"Soaring to the zenith of the blue mist, standing tall above all with the strength of heaven and earth!"
Xiulotte stepped forward and swung his sword forcefully. The three years of carnage flashed across his mind.
The first ambush he encountered, the first time he led an army to chase a King; the dialogue in the stone chamber with the elder and the life-and-death pledge with Chief Priest Quetzal; the first time he led a legion on a western conquest, from the North Coast Wooden Fort to Lake Yuriria, from the Rivermouth fortress to the Takuro Plains, from the battle of Kings to Qinchongcan’s downfall...
"I’ve met many opponents, I’ve withstood the trials of the divine. I’ve cut through brambles and thorns, emerging from life and death unto a grand avenue!"
The generals fell silent for a moment, then erupted in unanimous cheers. Having followed their invincible prince through several brutal battles, they naturally shared the same sentiment.
"Riding the sword to ascend to true enlightenment, alone atop the eastern peak unlocking heaven’s gate."
Xiulotte stood erect like a pine, lifting the long sword above his head before lowering it again into his hand. He remembered the grand investiture ceremony, the excitement of ruling a territory, and his heart full of bold aspirations.
"I captured the old King, I ascended the throne of the Lake Region. Amidst the ruins of the Kingdom, I built a brand new nation!"
At these words, Jatili was the first to bow, and everyone else paid deep homage, submitting to the King.
Seeing his subjects submit, Xiulotte laughed heartily. Years of training as a Samurai had made his body flexible and robust. His sword dance became more intense, whistling through the air, and then suddenly retracted!
The young King turned, facing the setting sun in the West. The bygone era lay five hundred years in the past, his distant homeland twenty thousand miles away. Everything was far away, all once an illusion. To him, all that was real, all that existed, was only this realm, only this home.
Xiulotte exhaled deeply. In an indecipherable language, he chanted a trance-like prayer.
"Sudden clear skies, sudden rains, sudden winds arise,
At times bright, at times dim, through several autumns pass.
The roc flies twenty thousand miles, the sword is lost in the furnace, descending to the Nine Netherworlds.
The floating bridge forgets worldly matters, adrift in the vast forgotten river.
The endless evening swept by wind from heaven and earth, gazing at the dawn’s light, a speck in the void."
The King gently wiped the long sword, intoning four lines of deep poetry in a sonorous voice. Soon, Alisa’s beautiful smile appeared in his mind, followed by the vast, fluctuating terrain of the world map etched in his heart!
"...Seeing the flowers bloom without seeing the leaves, a sword’s cold light crosses fifty states!"
Xiulotte murmured for a moment before suddenly looking up at the sky. The history of future generations appeared before his eyes, only to be reduced to ashes by the fiery rage in his gaze. Under the euphoria of wine, he suddenly thrust his sword into the Eastern sky! This thrust, with a resolute will, regardless of the passage of time; this thrust, with a final determination, no matter what life held!
"I came to this realm, bearing the divine promise. I am destined to rule over all, to reign over the continent at my feet!"