The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 623 Still a Sword Remains to Settle the Heavenly Mountain
So-and-so is searching for a flying sword in the Great Snow Mountain, so-and-so's entire sect has half of its members searching for a flying sword in the Great Snow Mountain... These are all other people's business.

Anyway, Shen Le wasn't going to give up what he had already got. Not to mention, he could feel the real, unmistakable resonance between the flying sword in his hand and the iron armor he wore…

So, this sword is the final piece of the Ironclad Spirit puzzle, right?

Shen Le held the sword with both hands, his gaze sliding from the hilt to the tip, then back to the hilt, repeating this several times. Fragments of memory drifted down like snowflakes, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.
"Old friend, it's you..."

He spoke softly. In his palm, the hilt of the sword trembled slightly, and streaks of light flashed by, as if it had endless words to say to him.

On the inside of the hilt, a teardrop-shaped indentation was deeply sunken, almost cutting the right half of the hilt in two. Shen Le remembered that it was when he delivered a Thousand Years of Kill to Blood Lord, and foul blood spurted out, landing on the hilt;

A deep black shadow pierced through the spine of the blade from the middle of the blade. Shen Le could almost immediately recall that he had touched the curved horn of the Blood Lord's sword with his own, and the sword had emitted a mournful cry.

When viewed against the sunlight, the tip of the sword even appears slightly translucent.

Shen Le would never forget how he repeatedly refined the sword with his true energy within the illusion, until finally, only a tiny bit at the tip of the sword began to transform into something tangible yet intangible...

"So, it was that sword immortal who took you away, reforged you, and placed you in the Golden Triangle Secret Realm? To both suppress the rift in the secret realm and to use the earth's fire and heavenly winds to refine your sword, allowing you to evolve to your current level..."

The flying sword broke free from his grasp, circled him once, and rubbed its hilt against the breastplate on his chest, as if greeting an old friend.

After a few quick movements, it took flight again, plunging headfirst into its scabbard and settling into stillness. Shen Le gently gripped the flying sword, exhaled a long breath, and diligently channeled his warmth into it:

Unimpeded. It felt much like when he flew a hundred paces on his sword in the illusion and stormed into the palace of Lhasa—it was as easy as using his own limbs.

Shen Le's fingertips trembled slightly, and the flying sword let out a joyful cry, naturally leaping out of its sheath and thrusting, parrying, slashing, striking, cracking, stirring, and chopping in the air...

Circling around the body, as agile as a dragon. In the distance, a drone slowly circled near the mountaintop, recording the flying sword's movements. Everyone was stunned:

"He's already gotten his hands on a flying sword?"

"This wasn't something he got, was it? The flying sword came to us automatically!"

"It's pitiful for those Taoist priests searching for flying swords on the snowy mountains... By the way, is that the sword they're looking for? If not, that's fine, but if it is, wouldn't they be spitting blood?"

Shen Le commanded his flying sword, which flew in a satisfying circle before finally sheathing it, completely satisfied. The instant the sword retracted, his entire suit of armor emitted a resounding clang, and then…

"Hey, hey, take it easy! Even if you're going to take your clothes off, at least let me know so I can prepare!"

The helmet flew up, the arm guards spread out on both sides, and the gold belt, breastplate, and skirt armor were revealed piece by piece. The leather straps untied themselves, and the components fell off automatically.

Only the two leather boots were very impatient, trying several times to lift Shen Le's legs off his feet and then struggle free themselves...

Helpless, Shen Le could only lay the Mo Dao (a type of long-handled sword) flat to the side, sit down on the ground, and loosen his belt and take off his boots. With a lot of pulling and tugging, he finally managed to free himself from his heavy armor, and let out a long sigh of relief.

I feel so light all over!
Seriously, wearing this outfit on a snow-capped mountaintop is really counterintuitive and too much of a burden!
He reached for his hiking stick, using it to support himself as he stood up. Opposite him, the armored figure clattered and automatically assembled. Carrying a spear on his back, wielding a long-handled broadsword, and with a sword at his waist, he was clearly a Tang Dynasty armored warrior.

The armored soldier, his footsteps crunching through the snow, took two steps toward Shen Le, bowed slightly, and kowtowed to his chest in a salute.
【Li Xingtang, a swordsman of the Tang Dynasty, greets you, sir!】

"...Junior Shen Le greets senior." Shen Le hesitated for a moment between "Shen Le of the People's Republic of China" and "Commoner Shen Le," ultimately choosing a barely acceptable form of address:

"Senior Li, may I ask... are you from back then...?"

Halfway through the questioning, I couldn't bear to continue. The name Li Xingtang wasn't the same Li who, in his youthful exuberance, followed General Guo to the Western Regions and remained stationed on the frontier until his death;

It wasn't Ah Li's son either, the young man who apprenticed under a master to learn swordsmanship, flew across snow-capped mountains on his sword, and entered the Tibetan royal palace to assassinate a nobleman.

He had never heard this name before... so...

"I am not." The armored soldier, or rather, the heavily armored warrior, stood upright, hand on the sword at his waist, and turned to look into the distance:

[I am merely this armor... My spirit has been dormant within it, restored and awakened by your skillful hands. I will respect you, follow you, and will never harm you.]

It sounds like it has a similar origin to the red wedding dress and the silk skirts? They all condensed into new spirits through the remaining will of their owners?
Shen Le wanted to ask him how much of the object's owner's memory he still had.

For example, what did Chang'an look like? What did Daming Palace look like? What were the local customs and traditions of that time? What were the city walls and fortresses of that time?

However, after looking at the vast expanse of ice and snow around him, he ultimately chose the behavior pattern of a normal person:
"Shall we go down first?" He extended his hand to the armored soldier.

"Whatever you want to say, let's talk at the foot of the mountain. Will you come down with me? Or should I fly you down? Or, can you have Zhong Xiaomei or Huang Yutong put you away and bring you out from below?"

[No rush.] The armored soldier bowed slightly in greeting.
【Wait a moment, I have one last thing to attend to… As a member of the Great Tang Dynasty's Mo Dao Army, it is my duty to protect our homeland…】

It planted the longsword in the ice, the tip of the blade disappearing silently, halfway into the ice, making Shen Le's heart tremble.

Then, the non-existent right hand of the armored warrior twisted slightly and pressed down on the sword hilt. With a soft ringing sound, the flying sword leaped out of its sheath once more and was grasped in its hand.

The armored soldier turned south, slightly bowing his head, seemingly staring at a certain direction below the mountain. After a long while, he raised his hand and pointed into the distance:
The flying sword soared into the air, shooting straight southeast. Shen Le's control level in the illusion was at most a hundred steps of sword control, but at this moment, a golden light pierced the sky and the earth, shooting out for more than a hundred miles!
Shen Le first held his breath and watched, then slightly tiptoed and craned his neck to try to see, finally closed his eyes, unleashed his mental power, and desperately tracked the flying sword.

Finally, he simply sat down on the spot, pouring all his mental energy into the copper plate, activating the map it provided, and causing it to unfold in front of him:

"Hey, help me out, mark the location of the flying sword! I know it's part of the weapon's spirit, and I know it will come back—but at least let me know where it is!!!"

Fortunately, the copper plate was indeed powerful; with just a slight tremor, it unfolded before Shen Le, or more precisely, within his meditative world. Mountain ranges rose and fell like dragons, stretching from west to east all the way to the sea. And a small red dot, starting from where Shen Le was standing, continued to advance southeastward:
"How far is it... a hundred kilometers... two hundred kilometers... it seems we've already passed Lhasa... and that sacred lake behind it..."

Still speeding forward... Hey! If you keep going, you'll be past the Himalayas!

To be precise, it also crossed the border. The border indicated by the copper plate is very mysterious, especially in the southwest.

For example, Yun Kun can travel from the mouth of the Yangtze River all the way to the edge of the Red Sea, where he can receive strong support from copper plates, because "the territory of vassal states is also our territory."
However, after crossing the Himalayas, there is a large area that is grayed out on the copper plate and not displayed... That land, although it is near the vassal state, does not belong to our territory...

The flying sword didn't hear him. Ironclad Lord Li Xingtang may have heard him, but he ignored Shen Le, or at least didn't command the flying sword to return;

The small red dot pierced through the clouds, advancing relentlessly. Inside the command center, the Special Affairs Bureau officials, intently watching the various screens, all paled.
"This flying sword has been upgraded!"

"Yes, the speed is much faster than before... 800 kilometers per hour? That's almost as fast as a Tomahawk cruise missile!"

"Yes... but cruise missiles can't be made that small! A missile that can fly at this speed, that can fly out of its range... a loitering munition... a rocket... how many kilometers has it flown now?"

"Over 250 kilometers, it's already approaching 300 kilometers... Although it's considered short-range among missiles, it's already considered long-range among rockets!"

The technicians, glued to their screens, quickly reported the data. After finishing, they sighed in admiration.
"And what's most terrifying is that not only is its cross-sectional area extremely small, it can also fly extremely low—it can skim over treetops and close to mountain peaks!"

A chorus of exclamations arose. Clutching the treetops, skimming the mountaintops, meant this thing could perform low-altitude penetration—

The reason why "low, slow, and small" aircraft are more difficult to deal with than high-altitude, high-speed aircraft is because the Earth is an arc, and when they fly low and at a great distance, they are not visible to radar.

If you add high speed and strong low-altitude penetration capability, it becomes even more troublesome. Specifically regarding the flying sword, it might reach the outpost before the enemy even notices its presence…

So what exactly did it do?

"I don't know... Shall we call Shen Le and ask?"

Shen Le himself didn't know. For the time being, Shen Le had absolutely no ability to control the flying sword; he didn't even know its exact location.
It's a pity that his knowledge of the geography of his own country is limited to the area around his home, and basically only extends to the provinces—thanks to the jigsaw puzzles of the provinces he played with as a child.

Especially in the Tibetan Plateau, if you ask him to point out the location of the capital, he'll probably be hundreds of kilometers off-target. If you ask him to point out the location of each prefecture and city, sorry, he'll just give up!
He could only stare anxiously at the copper plate, stretching out his hands and pushing it out flat. The armored soldier had already sat down, his back to him, allowing Shen Le to place his palms on the back of the armor and diligently channel heat into him.
At the same time, in a strange way, energy is supplied to the flying sword, supporting it to move forward rapidly.

The flying sword pierced through clouds and mist, leaped over mountains, and suddenly plunged downwards. Its sword light unfurled, hanging like a curtain.
A light curtain at least 100 meters wide enveloped a certain area and then tightened inwards.

A deafening roar resounded, and from the area surrounded by sword light, a three-headed, eight-armed deity rose up, its body a deep blue-black with protruding fangs. Each of its eight arms carried a weapon, forcefully pushing outwards.

The sword light was unusually agile; it did not launch a full-force frontal attack, but instead concealed its brilliance and pierced through like a swimming fish.

In an instant, four of the deity's eight arms broke off and fell to the ground along with the magical artifacts.

Both arms were severed in half, elbows drooping limply, covered in blood, and it seemed that even the tendons had been cut off.
Only his two arms remained intact, one gripping a vajra, the other a string of skulls, which he swung wildly in all directions, his roar like thunder—

The sword light seemed to have achieved its purpose, and it plunged downwards, enveloping the four severed arms, before returning directly.

As it flew, it spun and twisted rapidly. By the time it flew over the mountain peak and reached the highest point, its four arms, along with its magical artifacts, had been shredded into pieces.

Black mist filled the air, and foul blood gushed out, but atop the world's highest mountain, it vanished instantly under the fierce winds and blazing sun...

Shen Le was unaware of these details. He simply waited anxiously for the flying sword to pierce through the clouds and return from afar.

This time, as it approached the armored vehicle, it flew with a shaky gait, then plunged headfirst into its scabbard, remaining motionless as if it had exhausted all its strength.

Ironclad placed his right hand on the sword hilt, no longer trying to control it, and instead lay down with a thud.

Boots, belt, greaves, breastplate, shoulder guards, arm protectors—they all came apart piece by piece. The helmet rolled twice and then tumbled out from beside Shen Le's legs.

Just as she was about to roll down the icy slope, the bracelet on Shen Le's wrist twitched slightly, revealing a flowing skirt with fluttering sleeves as she clutched her helmet to her chest.

In an instant, her entire skirt billowed up, like a sail filled with wind, or like a kite that had just been launched, about to float into the sky.

The next moment, a clay figurine jumped out of the pen holder, pounced upwards, used its weight to press down on the skirt, and rolled backwards!

With this roll, it shrank smaller and smaller. The clay figurine hugged the skirt, and the skirt hugged the helmet. It was then put into the pen holder and disappeared.

Then, the other parts of the armor were also thrown into the pen holder. When Shen Le opened his eyes, only half of the hilt of a Mo Dao flashed in front of him and slid into the beaded bracelet on his wrist.

"Phew... Finally, we can go down the mountain..."

Shen Le stood up, moved his arms and legs. He placed his hand on the pen holder, silently recited Li Xingtang's name in his mind, and made sure that all its parts were properly stored. Then he activated the vortex, which carried him slowly down the hillside.

Two secret service agents were pacing around anxiously below. When they saw him fly down, they breathed a sigh of relief and quickly went to greet him.
"You're finally safe and sound! — What were you doing up in the mountain before?!"

“We also want to know what he did.” Almost immediately, the command center called:
"Mr. Shen, how did you know the target location? Did an Indian bring in an evil spirit? That sword strike was incredibly accurate!"

Shen Le: "..."

Is it too late for me to say I know nothing now?

(End of this chapter)