Many children, many blessings: Stealing the offspring of powerful figures to cultivate immortality.

The wind rises, and the sword whistles.

The moment Jiang Lei's slightly immature yet steady foot stepped into the Tomb of Ten Thousand Swords, the once desolate wasteland seemed to be hit by a depth charge.

"Buzz—!!"

It's not just one sword ringing out, it's thousands upon thousands.

Those ancient swords, stuck in the cracks of rocks, buried under the loess, or even broken in half, seemed to come alive at this moment. The rusty blades trembled violently, shaking off the dust of a thousand years, and emitted a yearning cry.

They are courting.

No, it is praying to the Lord.

The innate sword bones hold a fatal attraction for these sword spirits who have been lonely for thousands of years.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The sound of air being torn apart was incessant. Hundreds of flying swords of superior quality or higher were forcibly lifted into the air, weaving into an impenetrable net of swords, hovering in front of Jiang Lei like a peacock spreading its tail, vying to display their sharpness and brilliance.

Some swords are wreathed in flames, some are chillingly cold, and some are as light and agile as the wind.

Ji Lingxiao stood with his hands behind his back on the high place, a hint of arrogance flashing across his originally cold and stern face.

This is Ji Lingxiao's son, born to be the master of ten thousand swords.

He raised his hand and pointed to the tallest stone platform in the center of the Sword Tomb.

There, a long sword, completely transparent and as if carved from ice crystal, was stuck in the ground all by itself.

Within a hundred feet of it, not a blade of grass grows, and the other spirit swords dare not approach it even a fraction of a second.

"That is the 'Star Slayer.' It was the sword left behind by the strongest elder of the Lingxiao Sword Sect before his ascension five thousand years ago. This sword is merciless; once drawn, it will draw blood. It severs all worldly ties and stands alone in the world. This is the divine weapon worthy of your innate sword spirit."

Jiang Lei looked in the direction his father was pointing.

The sword was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, but also chillingly cold.

He seemed to see a solitary figure standing atop the Milky Way, with the bones of countless beings beneath his feet, and no one around him.

Jiang Lei withdrew his gaze. In his purple-gold pupils, there was no greed for power, only a clarity and decisiveness beyond his years.

"I don't like it."

Jiang Lei's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly carried throughout the entire Sword Tomb.

Ji Lingxiao was taken aback, his brows furrowing slightly: "Why? This sword's power is unparalleled..."

"It's too cold." Jiang Lei interrupted his father. He turned his head and glanced at his mother, who was standing outside the barrier, eating a spirit fruit and spitting out juice. He then thought of his younger brother and sister, who were waiting for him to come home and tell him stories.

"Mother is afraid of the cold, Third Sister likes to be warm, and Fifth Sister wants a hug."

Jiang Lei looked back at the lofty Star-Slaying Sword, his tone as indifferent as if he were commenting on a rotten cabbage.

"This sword is too lonely. If repairing a sword is just to make myself a lonely person, then I'd rather not repair this sword at all."

"You..." Ji Lingxiao's Dao heart trembled slightly, and he was speechless for a moment.

Just then, Jiang Lei made a move.

Instead of heading towards the divine sword that was surrounded by admirers, he turned around and, with firm steps, walked towards the darkest corner at the very edge of the sword tomb.

The place was littered with broken sword fragments and reeked of decay.

At the very bottom of that pile of scrap metal, there was a dark, wide, and heavy object.

It doesn't even look like a sword; it looks more like an unsharpened iron ruler, its surface pitted and covered in red rust.

"Da Bao!" Ji Lingxiao couldn't help but shout, "That's the scrap yard of the Sword Tomb! That's... that might even just be scrap metal discarded by some senior who failed in their sword practice!"

Jiang Lei ignored him.

He crouched down, stretched out his hands, calloused from sword practice, and grasped the cold, rough "iron ruler."

Very heavy.

That's ridiculously heavy.

Even with his mid-stage Golden Core cultivation, the veins on his arm bulged the moment he grasped it.

The rough rust marks wore down his tender palms, and blood seeped into the black iron through his fingers.

But this piece of scrap metal didn't emit a cheerful hum like other spirit swords; instead, it conveyed a sense of resistance.

That will was saying: Get out of my way, I'm not worthy, I'm just a piece of scrap metal.

"You're not scrap metal."

Jiang Lei murmured softly, and suddenly a dazzling burst of lightning erupted from his purple-gold pupils.

He gripped the sword hilt with both hands, and stomped on the ground, cracking it inch by inch.

"If only the heartless can become gods, then I, with my sentient being, will slay that god!"

"rise--!"

With a youthful yet powerful roar, Jiang Lei forcefully pulled the heavy "iron ruler" out of the soil!

"Boom—!"

At this moment, the sky above the Tomb of Ten Thousand Swords changed.

It wasn't the sharpness of a sword piercing the sky, but rather an aura as heavy as a mountain and as vast as the sea, which instantly suppressed the entire scene.

The dark iron ruler trembled violently in Jiang Lei's hand, and the red rust on its surface peeled off layer by layer like dead skin, revealing the dark golden sword blade underneath.

The sword has no intricate patterns, only ancient, scar-like engravings.

It has no sharp edges, because it is itself a mountain, a wall.

"Zheng—!!"

The lofty "Star-Slaying Sword" let out a mournful cry before this heavy aura, its blade bending as if a subject had to bow his head before a benevolent ruler.

The flying swords fell to the ground with a clatter, trembling as they stuck into the soil.

Ji Lingxiao's pupils shrank sharply, and the Broken Thought Sword in his hand even became slightly hot in its sheath.

"Is this... a matter of keeping to oneself?"

Ji Lingxiao muttered to himself, "Great skill appears clumsy, a heavy sword has no edge... This is not scrap metal at all, this is the 'Guardian Path' lost by ancient sword cultivators!"

Jiang Lei hoisted the massive sword, as wide as a door panel, onto his shoulder with one hand, its tip touching the ground and carving a deep trench in the earth.

He turned around and looked at his dumbfounded father, a simple yet determined smile appearing on his small face.

"Father, I've made my choice."

Jiang Lei patted the big guy on his shoulder, making a dull thud.

"I want to call it 'Peace'."

peaceful.

The character "Ning" is taken from the name of Jiang Yining.

Ji Lingxiao looked at the figure who, though small in stature, carried a giant sword and stood tall and firm, and thought of the ruthless path he had upheld for thousands of years.

He lost.

She lost to her one-and-a-half-year-old son.

But this feeling of losing is actually... not bad?

It was at this touching moment of parental love, filial piety, and the sublimation of moral values ​​that we witnessed this.

"Click."

The silence was broken by a crisp sound of biting into a fruit.

Jiang Yining patted the fruit crumbs off her hands and rushed in from outside the barrier with shining eyes.

She didn't even glance at the so-called semi-divine artifact, but went straight to the fragments of the spirit sword that had fallen to the ground due to the shock of "Peace".

As she bent down and frantically picked up the pieces, she shouted without turning her head, "Son! Well done! This big ruler is good, sturdy enough, it can help your sister crack walnuts later!"

"Um... Sword Master, since you all don't want this stuff on the ground, I guess I'll just consider it scrap and recycle it?"

Jiang Yining deftly stuffed a broken, high-grade spirit sword into her storage bag, muttering to herself, "This is a real treasure. Melting it up could make several pots... This piece is Crimson Flame Copper, perfect for making a hand warmer for Sanbao..."

"With a formidable enemy at hand, we must make the most of every single resource!"

Ji Lingxiao: "..."

The somber and tragic atmosphere of the Tomb of Ten Thousand Swords shattered instantly, leaving nothing but fragments that could not be picked up.