Ever since the sword madman taught him the sword-keeping technique, Xiang Sheng has always carried the Sword of Death with him, even when he eats and sleeps.
Wang Yue'er looked at it with fear, fearing that the blood-red blade would cut Xiang Sheng himself, so she made a leather noose and a rope overnight so that Xiang Sheng could carry it on his back.
Xiang Sheng was not used to it at first, and kept the sword with many bumps and bruises, but under the guidance of the sword madman, he gradually learned how to keep a sword.
The mental strength seemed to turn into nutrients. With daily watering, the spirituality of the Killing Sword increased greatly. From time to time, a sword chant would be emitted, conveying pure joy.
Thanks to Xiang Sheng's kindness, his swordsmanship became clearer and he gradually no longer needed to deliberately maintain his mental strength. His mind naturally developed a connection with the Killing Sword. In just seven days, he had mastered the swordsmanship.
Crazy Sword saw the change and while feeling relieved, he also sighed softly.
Once you have mastered the swordsmanship, the rest will be left to time.
After that, Xiang Sheng's heart calmed down completely. He focused on cultivating his sword every day and rarely went out.
However, the flying sword performance that day surprised and envied many young men in the village, and some of them always came to peek at Xiang Sheng.
They were quiet, so Xiang Sheng didn't bother to bother with them. Instead, whenever Wang Yue'er saw them, she would chase them away, allowing Xiang Sheng to concentrate on his training.
A month later——
Xiang Sheng sat cross-legged in front of the door, looking calmly at the beautiful mountains and rivers outside the house. His fingertips gently stroked the Duansha sword between his knees, and a sense of clarity arose spontaneously.
The Sword Madman once said that the strength of sword skills depends not only on the length of time, but also on the practitioner's own mental strength.
Strength has its limits, and while cultivating the sword and infusing the mind with energy may be a trickle, it will eventually run out. In other words, the amount of energy a practitioner can infuse daily has a limit.
But after this month, she found that every time her energy was reduced, she would feel a cool sensation between her eyebrows, which would quickly replenish the lost energy.
This feeling is even more obvious than when I escaped from underground that year.
After being sealed by the Four Extremes, this sense of coolness had lost its effect, making it extremely difficult for her to kill two Qi Refining Stage cultivators in a row. However, after reaching this small secret realm, the sense of coolness was reactivated.
She didn't understand the reason, but thanks to this, the Sword of Death underwent a transformation in just one month.
The Sword Madman once said that if she could complete a sword transformation before entering the Ghost Gorge, her chances of defeating the enemy after entering would increase by at least 10%.
Now it seems that she may still be able to wait for the second transformation.
As Xiang Sheng was thinking this, he suddenly heard a knock on the door behind him.
"Xiang Sheng, are you there?"
It was Wang Yueer's voice, "The village chief wants you to come over."
Xiang Sheng raised her eyebrows slightly, Old Demon King?
She had been staying in this small secret place for five months, and she had only met the old village chief once at the beginning. The next time they would meet would be when they set off next month. Why would he look for her at this time?
A thought flashed through his mind, and Xiang Sheng carried the sword of death on his back, pushed open the door and walked out.
A moment later, Wang Yueer brought Xiang Sheng to a low wooden house and said, "I won't go in. The village chief is waiting for you inside."
Xiang Sheng nodded and watched Wang Yue'er leave. Just as he was about to knock on the door, he heard a voice from inside, "The door is not locked, come in directly."
Xiang Sheng pushed the door open as he was told and saw the old village chief sitting at the table, looking at him with a smile. There was no one else in the room.
"Don't look, Wang Tuo is not here."
The old village chief waved his hand amiably, "Come and sit down."
"yes."
Xiang Sheng responded respectfully and sat opposite the old village chief.
As if sensing Xiang Sheng's wariness, the old village chief smiled and got straight to the point, "Jian Feng has been shamelessly bothering me for a month, saying he wants to find you a flying sword."
Xiang Sheng was slightly startled, "Senior Jian, he..."
"I've seen him go crazy here for countless years, but I've never seen him care about anyone."
The old village chief said, pushing a sword ball on the table in front of Xiang Sheng, "You must cherish it."
Xiang Sheng picked up the silver sword ball. It felt slightly heavy and soft in his hand, and it didn't look like a flying sword at all.
"This flying sword is the lowest grade I've found. You still have a month, so refining it won't be difficult."
"The lowest grade?"
Xiang Sheng grasped the sword pill and pursed his lips slightly: "Excuse me, what grade is this sword pill?"
The old village chief stroked his beard and said, "According to what you say now, it must be a top-grade magical weapon."
Xiang Sheng was slightly surprised, then smiled bitterly: "Senior really does think highly of me."
"Of course ordinary monks can't do that, but I believe in you."
The old village chief chuckled, his cloudy eyes sweeping over the Severing Sword on Xiang Sheng's back, "If you can cultivate a Transformation Sword in a month, how difficult would it be to refine a Flying Sword?"
Having said that, Xiang Sheng could only bow and say, "Thank you for your kindness, Senior."
"That's right."
The old village chief looked pleased. "I've almost finished my work. You can go back now. Don't forget to come back in a month. When the black tide recedes, I'll escort you to the Ghost Gorge."
Xiang Sheng nodded, but did not stand up. Instead, he hesitated for a moment and asked again, "Excuse me, Senior, what has Wang Tuo been doing these days?"
"He certainly has his own things to do."
The old village chief smiled and replied, "In fact, he's able to work so hard thanks to your words of advice. The future of our tribe depends on him, so he really needs to shoulder the responsibility."
Xiang Sheng frowned slightly, his eyes flashing, "Is he in danger? Is it related to me?"
"It has nothing to do with you. It's the secret of my clan, so please don't ask any more questions."
The old village chief flatly refused, but seemed to feel that something was wrong, so he added, "Young man, Wang Tuo is my only direct descendant. No matter how difficult his situation is, it won't be half as dangerous as you entering Ghost Gorge."
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