The six fundamental Sword Intents—Light, Darkness, Immortal, Slaughter, Destruction, Void—though not completely identical, share many similar aspects.
Perhaps because the Slaughter Sword Intent laid the foundation, Chu Ming’s comprehension of the Immortal Sword Intent was unexpectedly smooth.
A faint golden radiance slowly flowed over Chu Ming’s body, enveloping him entirely. The golden light exuded an eternal, immortal flavor.
Half a day passed, and Chu Ming still sat quietly before the Iron Sword, time seemed frozen and eternal at this moment. Chu Ming’s understanding of the Immortal Sword Intent had reached a bottleneck.
Chu Ming’s Sea of Souls was restless; half of it had turned a faint golden color, while the remaining half was blood-red, symbolizing the Slaughter Sword Intent.
Huge waves surged in the Sea of Souls; golden light gathered, becoming even more dazzling and brightening Chu Ming’s Sea of Souls. Within the golden glow, a small golden sword bathed in the light appeared, identical in form to the small Slaughter Sword in Chu Ming’s Sea of Souls, except for the color.
Once the small sword took shape, the immortal golden light on Chu Ming’s body slowly faded away, restoring calm. The surrounding Iron Sword and mountain shattered abruptly into specks of flying ash, disappearing before Chu Ming. His surroundings changed, and he was back in the field full of standing stone tablets!
"I didn’t expect to comprehend the Immortal Sword Intent this time!"
This indeed was a joyous surprise. Perhaps the greatest gain this time wasn’t the Golden Essence Fruit or the progress in Martial Will but the comprehension of the Immortal Sword Intent.
Comprehending Sword Intent sometimes requires more than strong enlightenment—it also requires opportunities and coincidences.
While Chu Ming was lost in thought, a white portal fell from the void, appearing before him and emitting a blazing light.
With a leap, Chu Ming jumped into the portal. After his figure disappeared, the radiance of the portal gradually faded, and the site became quiet again.
Chu Ming landed steadily, scanning his surroundings, only to find he had left the stone tablets’ placement site and was now in a dense forest.
Although Chu Ming didn’t know his exact location, he was sure he was still within the ruins of the Transformations Sect because the skies remained a gray haze, without sight of sun or moon.
To leave, he had to return the same way or find a new path ahead.
In a swamp, a blue-clad youth walked slowly and cautiously observed his surroundings. This youth was the Second Prince of the Ice Saint Kingdom—Bing Bufan.
Strange and eerie sounds rose sporadically from all around. A blue glove emitted a blazing light in Bing Bufan’s hand. This was an Earth Level Lower Tier Attack Glove, considered a secret treasure of the Ice Saint Kingdom.
Throughout his journey, Bing Bufan encountered many dangers, forcing him to reveal his trump card. An Earth Level Magical Treasure was rare, even in the Ice Saint Kingdom, with only about twenty such items, each extremely precious.
This glove was gifted to him by the royal ancestors when he became a direct disciple of the Celestial Travel Sect’s Inner Sect Elder.
The ground around him shattered suddenly, releasing countless white streams from beneath, which swept up vast quantities of mud. Before Bing Bufan could react, these white streams transformed into countless sharp ghosts in mid-air, attacking him fiercely.
These ghosts lacked physical form, but their attacks were very real. If hit, it would not only injure the flesh but also tear a piece off the soul.
"Are these unclaimed spirits?"
Bing Bufan was unsure. The world had too many peculiar occurrences that even Life and Death Realm Kings couldn’t always ascertain, let alone him.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
A whooshing sound came closer as the spirits revealed their terrifying faces and pounced at Bing Bufan.
Bing Bufan knew deeply that ordinary attacks were useless against spirits. To inflict substantial damage, it required attacks imbued with Martial Will.
Thus, as the spirits neared, he activated the Profound Ice Fist Intent in his mind immediately. A substantial light-blue ring gleamed around him, repelling all the spirits, preventing them from approaching.
But soon, Bing Bufan’s expression darkened. Although he was safe temporarily, as time extended, more spirits emerged, beginning to gnaw at the blue halo around him.
Bing Bufan snorted coldly, expanding the blue halo rapidly, transforming it into numerous spikes that pierced the surrounding spirits, making them scream wildly as they spread out.
Yet some spirits exploited the chaos to bypass the defense and bite at Bing Bufan.
Bing Bufan cried out in pain. The feeling of having one’s soul shredded was the most excruciating experience, so painful that even his well-hardened Martial Will wavered.
The Martial Will in Bing Bufan’s mind reacted swiftly, shattering the attacking spirit. However, he hadn’t taken a relieved breath before noticing more spirits lunging at him.
Stomping his foot hard, Bing Bufan’s figure shot into the distance. These spirits were truly more troublesome than purple-haired zombies, as normal physical attacks hardly harmed them. Only substantial differences in strength or expertise in the Path of the Soul could effectively eliminate these spirits.
Bing Bufan dashed forward with countless spirits frantically pursuing him. Seeing the increasing distance between them, he breathed a sigh of relief but soon realized his mistake.
White streams occasionally floated up from the swamp, morphing into spirit forms and attacking him wildly. These spirits seemed endless, making Bing Bufan feel hopeless.
He randomly chose a direction with fewer spirits, speeding in that direction erratically.
A day later, Bing Bufan panted heavily, gazing at the hordes of white spirits behind him. His scalp tingled, for an entire day, he had been dodging spirits’ pursuit.
Over the day of frantic evasion, a suspicion grew in his heart: these spirits might indeed be manipulated by someone.