Chapter 147: Chapter 65: The Hidden Dragon Lies in the Abyss, Must Not Be Offended Excessively!
Jiang Ning drew his sword from its scabbard, and a gentle hum resonated from the blade in his hand the moment it was unsheathed. The sound was pleasant to the ear, almost as if a dragon’s roar echoed beside him.
He looked down to see the blade of his sword dull and lackluster, spotted with patches of greyish-white stains.
Then he moved to the side, wet the blade with water, and brought his index and middle fingers together, wiping them down the length of the blade.
As his fingers left the blade, another soft chant was heard.
The greyish-white stains on the blade were as stubborn as before, not a single mark had faded.
“It really isn’t that simple,” he thought to himself. “These must be marks left by the passage of time.”
“I hope such stains won’t have too much of an impact on this spiritual weapon.”
Jiang Ning thought silently.
His index and middle fingers came together again, pressing against the edge of the blade, then he gently slid them across.
He felt an extremely slight pain and soon, bright red blood welled up on the finger pads of his index and middle finger.
“What a sharp blade!” Jiang Ning was slightly surprised.
Initially, he thought this spiritual weapon, after enduring such a long period of corrosion and the blade being so dull, would have lost its former sharpness.
But now, having personally experienced the blade’s sharpness,
He knew that he had underestimated the spiritual weapon.
Even if this blade might not be as formidable as in its heyday, it was still a divine weapon.
“As expected of the legendary spiritual weapon!” Jiang Ning muttered to himself.
Then he held his finger above the blade, and the bright red blood gathered into a droplet on his fingertip and slowly fell onto the blade.
Two drops of crimson blood slowly trickled down the blade.
During their descent, the blood droplets shrank rapidly from their initial size, similar to soybeans, as if the blade was drawing in his blood.
In the blink of an eye, they became as tiny as grains of rice and then disappeared without a trace.
On the blade, there was no longer any sign of where the blood had once been.
Jiang Ning also felt a kind of mental connection with the spiritual weapon in his hand.
The spiritual weapon in his hand now seemed to have become an integral part of him.
“This blade indeed possesses spirituality.”
Then he closed his eyes.
Because by establishing some sort of spiritual bridge with the weapon in his hand, he had also received some information.
Some information about this sword.
Jiang Ning opened his eyes and looked at the weapon in his hand with a slight frown.
How long has this sword been in existence?
According to the information conveyed by the spiritual weapon, once blood was dripped onto it to recognize its master and a spiritual bridge was established, it was possible to receive the messages recorded within the spiritual weapon, regarding the details of this spiritual weapon.
But now, the information recorded in this spiritual weapon was fragmented.
He only knew it was a spiritual weapon, a weapon that once possessed a supreme level of spirituality.
The source of that spirituality was the remnant soul of a real dragon, whose intelligence had been erased.
Based on the feedback from this spiritual bridge,
He also understood the way to truly master this sword and to restore its former glory; it would require a blood ritual to nourish the spirituality within the sword.
According to the feedback from the spirituality residing in the sword, he also understood.
The sword’s once supreme spirituality has long been extinguished by the Ancient Era, and what exists now is a newly born spirituality.
This new spirituality was due to a certain trait within himself that had called to him spiritually, and was willing to recognize him as its master.
To make this newborn spirituality grow stronger and return to its peak state, it would need the blood of the spiritual weapon’s master, his own blood, for the ritual.
He placed his two fingers on the blade and immediately felt the blood from the pads of his index and middle fingers being continuously drawn out, sucked by the blade.
He felt a sense of satisfaction transmitted through the spiritual bridge.
Jiang Ning knew that it had been fed enough.
“Not bad, it doesn’t require much,” sensing the loss of his own blood, Jiang Ning nodded slightly.
In the span of a few breaths, the sword had at most consumed a total of less than ten drops of his blood.
Moreover, based on the feedback, one absorption would last many days.
After completing the blood ritual, Jiang Ning immediately applied pressure to his fingers, causing the blood to coagulate and the wound to begin to heal.
Jiang Ning held a sword in each hand, the left holding the blackwood longsword given to him by Wang Jin, which was said to be forged from a hundred refinements of fine iron and valued at a hundred taels of Silver.
The blade shone like a mirror, reflecting rays of radiant light in the afterglow of the setting sun.
The sword in his right hand was the spiritual weapon he had acquired today, a weapon from the Ancient Era, now possessing an incipient and weak spirituality.
The blade was dull and lackluster, spotted with patches of greyish-white stains.
The reason for his actions was simple: he wanted to test the sharpness and resilience of the spiritual weapon.
He exerted force with both hands.
The edges of both swords collided.
With a resounding clash of metal,
The blackwood longsword in his left hand immediately broke in two, the tip flying off and plunging deep into the soil.
Witnessing this scene, Jiang Ning’s eyes widened involuntarily.
In the Weapon Forging Shop,
“Brother Qiu, you’re back, huh!” Yang Kai frowned but still greeted the man reeking of alcohol.
The man was the new shopkeeper who had taken over last year, the real manager of the Weapon Forging Shop now.
As for the former shopkeeper, the founder of the Weapon Forging Shop, he had already retired due to old age and was living out his days on an estate outside the city.