Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1228 - Reforging the Heretic Blade
Chapter 1228 – Reforging the Heretic Blade
Liu Wuxie had no path of retreat; to leave this place quickly, he could only kill the man before him. He didn’t hesitate. He unleashed three forms at once and spiraled through the air like three divine dragons merging into one. His power multiplied in an instant, far beyond what he had shown before.
Seeing the sudden transformation, Elder Long and all the elders in the Primordial Pagoda rose to their feet in shock.
“He reshaped the Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms to this state? The power far exceeds what it was before. Is he really only at the Transcendent Realm?” The three elders behind Elder Long could no longer find words to express their feelings. Everyone knew only Heaven Gaze Realm experts could alter mythical arts; how had Liu Wuxie managed it while still at the Transcendent Realm?
The sky responded the moment the three divine dragons fused. Darkness rippled overhead; the surrounding trees rustled, and the ancient tree’s branches began to sway as if moved by a dragon’s might, knitting a thick curtain that veiled the heavens and prevented the flare’s signal from escaping.
“Die!” Liu Wuxie roared. A colossal millstone manifested above, and as it descended, the attacker’s sword techniques shattered inch by inch. He couldn’t even get close to Liu Wuxie, much less inflict harm.
The surge of force shook the man’s soul. He couldn’t believe such a monstrous prodigy existed. There was no time to wonder. He changed tactics, conjuring countless sword rays to tear through the millstone.
“Your power is too weak,” Liu Wuxie said, his voice empty of emotion. The ancient tree had intercepted the flare, but for safety’s sake, he had to end this quickly. As his layered strength compounded, the ground sank under the pressure.
With a deafening rumble, the man’s sword rays buckled and exploded, a tidal wave of destruction sweeping outward on a scale no weaker than a duel between first-level Primal Origin Realm cultivators.
“At this rate, even cultivators at the Primal Origin Realm may not be his match once he reaches the Origin Conversion Realm,” the Primal Origin Realm elders in the Primordial Pagoda said with wry smiles. Liu Wuxie’s combat strength overturned their understanding of the world.
The millstone kept falling. The man’s face drained of color. No matter what martial technique he executed, nothing worked. Another thunderous crash—then the millstone slammed into the earth, carving a vast crater as underground water geysered up from the depths. The crushing force ground the middle-aged man to pieces, and the Sky Devouring Divine Cauldron devoured the energy and laws from his body.
His interspatial ring dropped neatly into Liu Wuxie’s hand. Liu Wuxie’s divine sense slipped inside like silken tendrils.
“So, this is the reward,” he murmured with a faint smile.
Killing the White-Armored Earth Dragon had earned him the Dragon Flame Fruit. Killing this man brought him hundreds of thousands of astral stones and a heap of blacksmithing materials. They had arrived at the perfect time—enough to reforge and upgrade the Heretic Blade so that, when he next used the Heaven-Severing Strike, he wouldn’t have to fear the blade shattering under the strain.
Liu Wuxie bowed toward the ancient tree and departed immediately. This was no place to linger. Although the tree had blocked the flare, the commotion of their battle had spread. The dead man’s two companions could return at any moment.
He flashed through the woods and vanished, unaware that four eyes were fixed on his every movement. Only after crossing a few hundred miles and confirming that no one was tailing him did he slow down. Less than an hour later, two men appeared beneath the ancient tree, the remaining members of the trio hunting him.
“It’s Zhang Shan’s signal,” one said, sensing their companion’s lingering aura and the flare’s scorching scent.
“He’s already dead. Who’s the culprit?” the other asked, staring at the crater. Only someone at the pinnacle of the Origin Conversion Realm could make a pit that size. Neither imagined Liu Wuxie had killed their companion.
“The killer should be nearby. Let’s keep searching.” They vanished into the forest, preparing to sweep the area. And they were not alone; many cultivators were entering the region. Surviving the Death Gate would not be an easy task.
Meanwhile, Liu Wuxie found a suitable spot. He didn’t resume training; instead, he prepared to reforge the Heretic Blade. The Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms alone might not suffice against stronger foes. He would need the Heaven-Severing Strike, and for that, he had to upgrade the Heretic Blade.
“What is he doing?” an elder wondered as Liu Wuxie went still.
“He’s going to forge an artifact,” another answered.
“Give him a day, and don’t let anyone get close to him,” Elder Long said. For the next day, the elders forbade anyone from interrupting Liu Wuxie.
The three elders exchanged looks and nodded. They, too, wanted to see if his blacksmithing would bring further surprises. They formed seals and activated the spiritual arrays in the mountain range. The arrays suddenly blocked the paths of several cultivators still dozens of miles from Liu Wuxie and forced them to turn aside.
Illusion, maze, shifting, teleportation—the spiritual arrays here were intricate and masterful. Whoever set them was a genius.
Liu Wuxie spent fifteen minutes sorting his materials.
“That’s enough. Let’s begin!” he said. Demonic flame surged from his hands, igniting the air until heat waves rolled so fiercely that even through the crystal wall, the elders could feel them.
“What terrifying flame!” Even Elder Long looked surprised, his eyes glinting. Everyone in the sect knew he was a grandmaster blacksmith, few capable of surpassing his dragon-clan-inherited skill. Over the years, countless disciples had sought to learn the dragon clan’s forging from him, and he had refused them all.
With Liu Wuxie’s rise in cultivation, his demonic flame had changed beyond recognition—now laced with the energy of the Avici Hell. Elder Long’s eyelid twitched. He waved his hand and summoned all the materials on the ground, planning to borrow strength from both the demonic flame and himself.
The flame would melt the materials, but Liu Wuxie still had to reforge the Heretic Blade by his own hand. He began forming seals; profound runes hovered into being and sank, one after another, into the depths of the blade. A strange ringing resounded—audible even through the crystal wall to the elders.
“What a bizarre blacksmithing technique! Why haven’t we seen it before?” The elders traded baffled looks. Not even Elder Long had seen a method like this. The three elders weren’t grandmasters, but their skills were far from low; forging Origin Conversion Realm artifacts was not a challenge for them.
Liu Wuxie continued, his sequence of seals growing ever more profound. From time to time, Elder Long frowned, then nodded—frowning at steps even he didn’t fully grasp, nodding at exquisite touches that drew his admiration. Even Liu Wuxie hadn’t expected his smithing to cause such a stir.
Two hours later, the last of the materials had dissolved, and light danced over Liu Wuxie’s hands as the liquefied essence interwove like a long silk ribbon.
“Let’s begin fusing,” he said quietly. His smithing was unique, unlike any other. Even in the celestial realm, his craft stood among the very best.
“He’s going to fuse now? Is he insane?” the three elders gasped. In their view, forcing materials directly into the Heretic Blade like this could only end in mutual destruction. One misstep and the weapon would explode, taking the smith with it.
“Silence!” Elder Long barked, the chatter breaking his concentration. The three elders fell quiet at once. Elder Long might not sit at the very peak of the sect hierarchy, but even the sect master treated him with respect.
The Heretic Blade exhaled and inhaled radiance like a living thing, and the entire spiritual array activated on its own. Then the unbelievable happened: from within the blade, a resonant dragon’s cry rang out.
The Heretic Blade’s artifact spirit was a divine dragon.
“A dragon artifact,” Elder Long murmured. There was a vast gulf between forging a dragon artifact and an ordinary one. Time scattered the dragon clan’s smithing heritage, and even Elder Long inherited an incomplete legacy. Strictly speaking, the Heretic Blade wasn’t a pure dragon artifact; Liu Wuxie had merged the traits of a dragon weapon into it while retaining the advantages of a conventional artifact. He had fused both paths into a technique all his own.
Space trembled as the Heretic Blade hovered at the brink of destruction. Yet, strangely, it held. By rights, such a method should have already shattered the weapon.
“Unity with Heaven and Earth—you never stop surprising me,” Elder Long chuckled, stroking his beard, delight bright in his eyes. His curiosity about Liu Wuxie only deepened.
Liu Wuxie dared such bold forging because the Heretic Blade had attained unity with heaven and earth. So long as heaven and earth endured, the blade would not break.
He accelerated the process. With so many experts scattered through the range, he wanted to finish quickly, unaware that the elders had granted him a day of safety. Had he known, he wouldn’t have taken such a risky route.
Bizarre runes blossomed before him, and even Elder Long was taken aback. Threaded among them was an immortal rune, which flared brilliantly and sank into the blade.
Moments later, a golden blade-ray erupted, as if to cleave open the sky and lance into the depths of the cosmos. The Heretic Blade had advanced. Liu Wuxie’s hands moved twice as fast.
Each seal he formed fell like a stroke of divinity, dense with profundity. The three elders in the Primordial Pagoda didn’t dare speak; they could only trade glances—eyes shining with the respect his smithing had earned.
Thunder rumbled. The blade’s advancement had drawn a wisp of thunder tribulation. Here in the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain, heaven and earth had yet to acknowledge the Heretic Blade. Back on the True Martial Continent, it had undergone many tribulations to earn that recognition.
The first thunderbolt crashed down, and the Heretic Blade unfurled a curtain of blades, splitting the lightning cleanly in two.
