The stunning sword strike Ying Bing had just executed was witnessed by all present.
The Holy Maiden of the Drizzle Pavilion, ranked sixth on the Hidden Dragon List and possessing the physique of the Heavenly Demon Enchantress, was undeniably formidable.
In that fleeting moment of lightning and sparks, even an Outer Realm expert who failed to concentrate might have been ensnared by her illusions.
This was precisely how Yin Mianmian had managed to slay several Hidden Dragon prodigies and escape unscathed.
Yet just now, her Heavenly Demon Phantom Form had been shattered by a single sword stroke!
A heart as clear as a sword’s edge!
The elders present inwardly admitted that, at the same cultivation level, none of them could achieve what Ying Bing had just accomplished.
Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that, in their entire lives, they had never encountered someone like her.
The young girl had treated the sword scar as a divine diagram, comprehending its ultimate form—a feat already beyond imagination.
The elders exchanged glances, each seeing solemnity and anticipation in the other’s eyes.
They were likely about to witness a historic moment for the Hengyun Sword City.
"Please," Elder Zeng gestured.
Ying Bing gave a slight nod, her serene gaze shifting to Li Mo.
Had it not been for their spiritual exchange and the resonance of their souls, she would never have glimpsed that unique moon or attained her current state of sword-heart clarity.
Thus, if she were to gain anything from the Hengyun Sword Scar now, his presence would undoubtedly be part of it.
After a brief pause, she suddenly parted her lips and spoke softly:
"Give me the painting."
Now it was Li Mo’s turn to be mentally flustered. Caught off guard by the request, he hesitated before retrieving the jade slip on which he had copied the sword-scarred boulder.
Li Mo tentatively produced the portrait of the noble lady.
Then, he watched as Ying Bing took out the big-headed doll from her sleeve and gently pressed it onto a corner of the painting.
With a surge of true energy, the doll’s large head left a faint imprint on the paper.
"This was also part of me. You missed it."
"Is this a group photo?"
Li Mo couldn’t help but chuckle.
It looked more like a seal stamp.
The young girl turned and walked toward the sword-scarred boulder. At that moment, the lingering aftermath of the earlier clash between Outer Realm experts had yet to dissipate, and a light drizzle fell through the pale blue sky.
Her blue-patterned dress seemed even more ethereal against the rain’s curtain, her silhouette hazy—as if she were stepping out of a painting or walking into one.
"Sky blue waits for misty rain, while I wait for you~"
"The moonlight is fished up, blurring the ending~"
Li Mo tucked away the painting and couldn’t resist humming a few lines.
To be fair, his singing wasn’t half bad.
Had there been a music cultivator from the Fragrant Tower present, they might have praised him for possessing the potential to touch the Dao through song.
"Big Brother Li... what was that song? It sounded... really nice..."
Princess Little Jiang had discovered yet another of Li Mo’s talents.
Li Mo smiled. "I’ll teach you sometime."
"It’s fine. You’ll learn if I guide you hand in hand."
Jiang Chulong’s small frame trembled. Thanks to her master’s vivid PowerPoint-style animations, though she still struggled with speech, her imagination was remarkably active.
In an instant, she could already picture the scene.
But she... she stuttered...
Could she really learn ?
If it was Big Brother Li teaching her... then maybe... maybe she could?
A strange, indescribable ripple emanated from the sword-scarred boulder, reaching the ears of everyone present.
Not just those atop the Sword Tower, but even the chaotic crowd of martial artists below could faintly sense something.
It was as though an unknown presence was murmuring from the depths of the void.
Every word seemed profound and mysterious.
Some strained to hear clearly, hoping to glean some enlightenment, but the harder they listened, the more indistinct the words became—until their very spirits teetered on the brink of collapse.
Countless gazes, filled with longing or stupefaction, converged on the Sword Tower’s peak.
While the onlookers felt immersed in the moment, Ying Bing, standing at the epicenter of the ripple, beheld an entirely different scene.
The divine patterns on her soul flickered faintly.
Following the clear cry of a celestial bird, moonlight draped over her like a mantle.
Just as Ying Bing reached out with her soul to touch the sword-scarred boulder, she realized she was now standing in an expanse of emptiness.
Facing her was another version of herself.
Unfamiliar yet familiar.
Was that her past self, from the time she first glimpsed the divine?
Or perhaps it was the lingering obsession in her heart—her devotion to the martial path, to the Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword.
That "other her" was cold and emotionless, her eyes devoid of feeling, yet holding an identical Frost Sky Sword.
Those mirror-like eyes gazed over, and though no words were spoken, it felt as though a thousand questions had been asked.
"Have you forgotten your convictions?"
"Have you forgotten your martial path?"
"Are you... still yourself?"
One accusation after another came crashing down.
She had no intention of answering with words. Instead, she lightly raised her Frost Sky Sword.
Right or wrong, the sword would answer.
The "other Ying Bing" moved. A tyrannical, heaven-defying sword light—one that sought to seize the will of the heavens—erupted like divine retribution, as if to swallow the Ying Bing who had strayed from her true self.
This was the sword of the past Ying Bing, directed at the Ying Bing of the present!
It was the truly flawless and complete "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword Art"!
With decisive momentum, it swept forth!
"That sword strike..."
Ying Bing closed her eyes, as if seeing once more the bright moon she had witnessed during the fusion of their souls.
But it was not merely a moon.
Nor was it just the Dao of the Lunar Yin.
Within it, there was also a sword.
In that fleeting instant, Ying Bing struck.
That divine intent, that clarity, that newfound understanding of the Dao—now merged seamlessly into the original "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword," becoming one with it.
Moonlight erupted around her.
As if behind her, an ethereal moon had risen.
Grasping the sword's radiance, she descended like an immortal from the Lunar Yin itself. The technique had yet to arrive, yet its artistic conception had already manifested.
Flawless and untainted.
Simultaneously swift and slow.
Tranquil yet surging, heartless yet full of sentiment, the softest yet the hardest!
To follow nature’s course—was this not the Heavenly Dao itself?
The tips of two Frostblade swords met, a contest of profound meaning, a clash of souls.
It felt like an eternity, yet also but a fleeting moment.
Ying Bing opened her eyes. Reflected in her gaze were the sword-carved mystical stones, her serene pupils now tinged with an even deeper air of mystery.
The "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword" she now wielded was still a divine technique, yet it could no longer bear its former name.
The void trembled. The sword-carved mystical stones, even after being comprehended, continued to resonate without cease!
Such a phenomenon had never occurred before!
The elders froze for a moment before swiftly stepping forward, fearing some sudden anomaly.
Yet what was meant to happen, happened regardless.
Under their horrified gazes—
The sword mark that had remained eternally engraved upon the mystical stone began to fade at an alarming speed.
It was being erased by some higher existence.
Like ink dissipating from a painting, returning the canvas to blank purity.