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Chapter 175. Restoring the Tangguang Sword

"..."

No new text appeared on the radar detector's screen for a long time.

There are some doubts about the super artificial intelligence.

However, the journalist set permissions that prevented it from accessing the camera without instructions, so the artificial intelligence was unaware of the journalist's situation.

Jiang Jianxin remained calm, as if he was certain that the journalist would be a great philanthropist.

After waiting for about five minutes, the journalist finally replied, his tone noticeably more enthusiastic.

[Journalist]: No problem, I will definitely do my best to help you with this!
[News Reporter]: Just you wait, in three minutes, the new hot topic on the Ping An Forum will definitely be this "White Moonlight"!

Jiang Jianxin frowned and corrected him:
Jiang Jianxin: He is a daydreamer, not a white moonlight.

The reply from the other end of the screen was very quick.

[Journalist]: Okay, okay.

After reaching a peaceful agreement with the journalists, Jiang Jianxin slightly turned his head to look to the side.

The hooded child slowly withdrew her semi-transparent hand from the electronic dog's screen, lowered her rolled-up sleeves, and said calmly:

"This person's abilities are indeed unique, and his potential should not be underestimated."

When Zuo Siquan and Chu Zhibai arrived at the cemetery station, neither of them paid any attention to the hooded child. It was obvious that she was invisible to others and that neither of them could hear her speaking.

Jiang Jianxin withdrew his gaze, his eyes lingering in the air, and remained silent.

The fourth brother's voice, as authoritative as that of a demon king, rang in my ears, each word piercing the air:
"Using faith as fuel...this is paving the long steps to Godhood."

You should pay more attention to her in the future.

Jiang Jianxin heard what the fourth timeline said.

However, she didn't understand much about the conversion of faith power, nor did she know why the fourth playthrough attached so much importance to it, directly regarding it as a symbol of embarking on the path to godhood.

After all, her brother and the fourth time around were both subordinates of a certain true god. That god of death had very few followers and hadn't collected much faith, so it felt somewhat disconnected.

He glanced at her on the fourth look, as if he could see right through her thoughts:
“I…the Goddess of Death and Silence, do not need her to gather faith through such large-scale warfare.”

She paused and added:

“Every mourning at a funeral, every ember of incense, every bit of longing and remembrance the living have for the deceased… is a devout offering to the god of death.”

So, while the agent of the God of Light traveled thousands of miles to proclaim the glory of his Lord, Edric was sitting in the shadows of the Temple of Deathly Silence, slowly knitting a sweater, and occasionally taking the time to check on his sister's well-being in the other world.

Because his boss, the God of Death, doesn't need to deliberately spread his faith.

Tens of millions of years ago, when humans first closed the eyes of the deceased and when the first incense was lit in front of the grave, the authority of the god of death was already deeply rooted in the hearts of all living beings.

As a result, the Throne of Deathly Silence no longer needs to gather a large number of believers to spread faith in order to maintain its divine power. Its faith power is inexhaustible, and the crisis of faith has nothing to do with it.

If it weren't for the fact that it was the third time around, the fourth sister wouldn't have bothered building a temple at all—her faith came from funerals, and no normal person in the mortal world would want to worship the King of Hell.

Jiang Jianxin listened with a mixture of understanding and confusion.

The hooded child, looking at her grown-up self with those clear, foolish eyes, paused slightly, and had to summarize her with a single sentence:
"Well... she has the potential to become a god. If you have time, pay more attention to her; if not, just ignore her. Even if she becomes a god, she'll only be a minor god, and her status won't be comparable to yours."

Jiang Jianxin nodded slightly, not thinking much of it, because her gaze had been drawn to Zuo Siquan, who suddenly emitted a pale golden light.

Waves of golden light surged around the girl in the blue trench coat, like ripples spreading across a lake after a pebble thrown into it. She covered her mouth and said:
"This is……"

Jiang Jianxin knew that the journalists had played a role, and at this moment he smiled and said:

“I asked a passionate and kind journalist to get you some faith power as well.”

"With the support of the power of faith, you will be able to restore my sword to its original, stable state."

Feeling the growing power within his body, Zuo Siquan said with emotion:
"Thank you." She wasn't stupid; she knew she didn't know the journalist, and his sudden kindness was most likely related to Jiang Jianxin.

Therefore, she thanked Jiang Jianxin, not the journalist himself.

"Wow..."

"Wow--"

A surge of faith power poured in like a tide, and the golden halo of illusion above her head immediately unfolded, like blooming golden ripples that continued to extend into the void.

The golden circle expanded and expanded until it covered the entire sky above the cemetery.

Golden light swirled across the sky, and suddenly fine white willow catkins drifted up from within the circle, fluttering and swirling like snow and mist.

Each willow catkin landed lightly on the limp, damp paper sword, as if drawn by some invisible force, gently covering the blade.

The originally limp paper sword gradually gleamed with golden light, and the blade began to lengthen and straighten, with a cold, metallic sheen appearing on its surface.

As the sword blade gradually returned to its original shape, the golden circle in the sky also shrank, from a colossal ring that blotted out the sun to a delicate halo the size of a palm, and finally flew back to Zuo Siquan's side with a "whoosh".

The latter raised his eyebrows and said:

"Your sword is imbued with a great deal of my magical power, and it can now maintain its form."

Jiang Jianxin weighed the longsword in his hand; the familiar weight made his knuckles tremble slightly.

As the sword flashed, the long-dormant spiritual energy thawed like a spring stream, surging up along the meridians.

She casually drew a frost-like arc with her sword; the cold light that passed through it caused even the air to ring out with a clear, melodious sound.

—I'm back.

It's not just the sword, but also that long-lost sense of composure when wielding it.

Jiang Jianxin held the long sword calmly, but inwardly he was incredibly excited.

If it weren't for the fact that the two of them were there, she would have happily crawled around on the ground and shouted to the sky:

"Honey, you're finally back! I've suffered so much without you!"

The hooded child leaned against the tombstone with his arms crossed, taking in the joy that danced on Jiang Jianxin's face.

She curled her lip and let out a cold snort: "A pile of junk is worth this much joy?"

Jiang Jianxin acted as if he hadn't heard.

It's normal that she and the fourth brother, who grew up in different environments, have different ideas.

"Shh——"

In a flash of cold light, she had already executed a sword technique as swift as flowing clouds chasing the moon.

Only when the last sword flourish was finished did she reluctantly sheath her longsword.

Chu Zhibai looked at her with astonishment:
"My lord's...swordsmanship has become so superb?"

Jiang Jianxin said leisurely:
“Of course, my title is ‘Sword Master’.”

She turned to look at Zuo Siquan, and slightly raised one corner of her lips as she said:

"Which stations haven't you checked yet?"

She picked up the sword in her hand and said:

"Let me and my Tangguang Sword go and confront it."

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