Everyone was left in utter shock.
The Monument of Ten Thousand Swords, towering at thirty-three zhang, dwarfed the Spirit Monkey’s four-zhang true form. It was nothing short of a mountain!
Moreover, no one had seen how the monument was created.
In mere moments, amidst a cascade of phenomena, the monumental sword stele descended from the heavens.
Now standing at the gates of Wudang, the thunder and divine fire that surrounded it gradually dissipated, revealing layers of sword intent etched into its surface. Even the likes of Ximen Chuixue and Ye Gucheng, unparalleled swordsmen, couldn’t hide the fiery desire in their eyes.
Li Hanyi, the Snow Moon Sword Immortal, unconsciously rose from her seat, wanting to approach the monument. But she quickly stopped herself—it would be improper. Her beautiful eyes, however, remained fixed on the stele, filled with longing.
The Monument of Ten Thousand Swords was exactly as its name suggested—a monument containing ten thousand sword intents. Such a creation was beyond imagination.
At the moment the monument descended, a figure far beyond Wudang’s borders came to a halt.
A beggar-like man, his aura concealed yet unfathomable, stared in the direction of Tianzhu Peak. His eyes gleamed with intensity.
“What magnificent sword intent! What diverse sword intent! What profound sword intent!”
Dugu Qiubai repeated the word “magnificent” three times.
Though he didn’t know what had occurred atop Tianzhu Peak, the sword intent was so vivid that he could sense it clearly. The monument’s myriad sword intents, encompassing all styles and techniques, left him in awe.
Some of the sword intents were so profound that even he, a peerless swordsman, found them unfathomable. His own sword intent surged in response.
“Old friend, it seems we’ve come to the right place today!” Dugu Qiubai said, glancing at the Divine Condor beside him. The condor let out a cry, and Dugu Qiubai laughed heartily.
“Are you worried about me, old friend? Don’t be. I’ve lived long enough. If I can cross swords with such a peerless sword immortal before I die, I’ll have no regrets!”
His laughter was filled with boundless pride.
Step by step, he made his way toward Wudang—not to celebrate, but to challenge.
Back on Tianzhu Peak, countless eyes shifted between Ning Changge and the Monument of Ten Thousand Swords, their awe and astonishment unrestrained. Moments ago, they had been eagerly anticipating Ning Changge’s gift. Now, having witnessed it, they felt as though their horizons had been expanded immeasurably.
The Monument of Ten Thousand Swords, as Ning Changge had stated, wasn’t meant for Zhang Sanfeng. Check latest chapters at novel·fıre·net
“The Monument of Ten Thousand Swords contains myriad sword intents. From now on, Wudang disciples can meditate before it, selecting sword intents that suit them. If, one day, they achieve their own unique insights, they can also imprint their sword intents into the monument,” Ning Changge explained, his voice calm yet resonant.
His words drew countless envious gazes.
The eyes of swordsmen in particular burned with desire. They couldn’t help but imagine how incredible it would be to study swordsmanship before such a monument.
Even Heaven-Man realm swordmasters like Xie Xiaofeng found their breathing uneven.
Though most of the sword intents in the monument were of little use to them, there were still a few that made their hearts race. In that moment, they wished they were Wudang disciples.
The disciples of Wudang, feeling the envious gazes directed at them, were filled with pride. Their eyes turned reverently toward the white-robed figure at the center, and they shouted in unison:
“We thank Little Martial Uncle for strengthening Wudang!”
Their voices rolled like thunder, embodying the grandeur of a sacred land.
Even the Land Immortals couldn’t help but marvel.
They could sense the profound mysteries within the Monument of Ten Thousand Swords. Not only could it aid in comprehending the Dao and studying swordsmanship, but it could also grow and evolve over time.
In a thousand years, as countless Wudang geniuses imprinted their sword intents into the monument, its power would become unfathomable.
This was a treasure capable of supporting a sect’s foundation for generations!
Ning Changge’s gift left everyone in awe. The Seven Heroes of Wudang could only shake their heads in admiration. Compared to the Monument of Ten Thousand Swords, their Seven Stars Daoist Robe seemed trivial.
The difference in scale was undeniable.
The Seven Stars Daoist Robe was a personal gift for their master, while the Monument of Ten Thousand Swords would benefit Wudang for millennia.
Their respect for their junior brother deepened.
Little Martial Uncle was still Little Martial Uncle!
Zhang Sanfeng’s laughter echoed across Tianzhu Peak.
For the first time since the celebration began, he laughed so heartily, his joy evident to all. His eyes sparkled with pride and satisfaction as he looked at Ning Changge, the boy he had brought back from Mount Hua eleven years ago.
“Eleven years ago, I brought you back to Wudang from Mount Hua. That was the greatest fortune of my life,” Zhang Sanfeng said, his voice filled with emotion.
“Changge, your gift pleases me greatly. You’ve put much thought into it.”
His heartfelt joy was palpable, and even the Land Immortals, such as Li Changsheng and Xiaoyaozi, couldn’t help but feel envious. Their own disciples were talented, but compared to Ning Changge, there was simply no comparison.
Ning Changge was equally pleased.
How many people live to celebrate a centenary?
If a hundredth birthday celebration was to be held, it should be nothing short of perfect.
Smiling, he said, “As long as Master is satisfied. This Monument of Ten Thousand Swords is the first of my birthday gifts to you.”
Did that mean there was a second?