Chapter 39: The Scheming Demon Lord Hoodwinks the Innocent Sword Spirit

Every blade worthy of the title “Divine Weapon” possesses a unique, ever-shifting Master Recognition Seal. These patterns are singular secrets, known only to the weapon itself.

Before a Sword Spirit is born, the sword evaluates whether the wielder is worthy. Only then does it reveal the seal.

Since its genesis, Zhan Xian had never recognized a Master. Every wielder in history had been either a Companion Spirit or a Sword Slave—subservient to the blade.

So how could Xiao Yifeng possibly know the correct seal?

Once the ritual began, however, the Sword Spirit found she could not forcibly stop it. But as the supreme evil weapon of heaven and earth, how could she submit to a piece of trash with mixed spiritual roots?

“Dream on!”

With a shrill cry of rage, she dissolved into a streak of crimson light and dive-bombed Xiao Yifeng. If she couldn’t stop the ritual, she would kill the ritualist.

BOOM!

Xiao Yifeng was forced to stop carving the rune. He threw the sword up horizontally to block just as the crimson comet slammed into him.

The impact was catastrophic. Xiao Yifeng barely maintained his grip on the hilt as he was blasted into the earth. The force hammered him into the ground, creating a massive impact crater in the hard rock of the cliff floor.

He lay in the center of the pit, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—the Seven Orifices. His vision blurred, swimming in a sea of red, but strangely, the agonizing pain in his meridians seemed to lessen with the release of pressure.

He wiped the blood from his eyes with a trembling hand.

Outside the ritual barrier, the Zhan Xian Sword Spirit was pacing furiously, gnashing her teeth. The barrier, generated by the sword’s own ancient protocols to prevent external interference, was now locking the Spirit herself out.

“Hahaha… Give it up, Zhan Xian!”

Xiao Yifeng’s laughter was hoarse, broken, and utterly sinister. With his face covered in blood and his eyes manic, even his closest friends wouldn’t have recognized him.

“I told you… in the past life and this one, I am your Master!”

He thrust the Zhan Xian sword forward with his right hand. His left hand resumed tracing complex patterns in the air, guiding his blood to etch the seal onto the blade. He chanted incantations rapidly, accelerating the process.

Instantly, the clearing filled with the shrieks of wraiths and the howling of ghosts. The blood-light intensified, casting a shadow over Xiao Yifeng that made him look more demonic than any Devil Sect patriarch.

If a righteous cultivator had stumbled upon this scene, they would have beheaded Xiao Yifeng without a second thought. Fortunately, this cliff was a forgotten corner of the world.

“Impossible! Impossible! I will never recognize a bastard like you as my Master!”

The Sword Spirit screamed from beyond the barrier, her beautiful face twisted in despair and disbelief.

Xiao Yifeng ignored her. He focused entirely on the carving. A sensation of fusion—like water blending with milk—began to emerge between his soul and the sword. As more blood seeped from his hand, his consciousness began to fade.

The crimson blood climbed up the blade, flowing along both edges like twin rivers. They only needed to converge at the tip to complete the seal.

Almost there.

Xiao Yifeng held his breath. His blood churned, and the True Explanation of Stars spun wildly in his meridians.

But the blood stopped.

Time ticked by. The two streams of blood reached the tip but refused to merge. An invisible wall of will was blocking the final connection.

Xiao Yifeng’s vision darkened. He was dizzy, lightheaded. In another half-stick of incense, he would be sucked dry, turned into a desiccated husk.

He looked up at the Sword Spirit.

“Hahaha! Serves you right!” The Spirit laughed maniacally, sweeping away her previous despair. “You’re going to die! Even if you stole my seal, I don’t accept you! The sword rejects you! You will never complete the carving!”

She danced a little jig outside the barrier. “You scared me to death… I actually thought you might succeed.”

Xiao Yifeng’s face was deathly pale. He had calculated everything, but he had underestimated the sheer stubbornness of the sword’s will. The Spirit’s rejection was acting as a physical blockage.

What do I do? Wait for death?

No. I have grand strategies. I have revenge to take. I cannot die here.

He looked at the gloating Spirit. A desperate plan formed in his mind.

“Xian’er…” Xiao Yifeng’s voice suddenly softened, dripping with deep, tragic affection. “Aren’t you curious where I got the Master Recognition Rune?”

The Spirit paused, suspicious.

“The truth is… I traveled back from the future. That is why I know you. That is why I know this place.” Xiao Yifeng’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “This rune… you gave it to me yourself.”

“You liar!” The Spirit scoffed, hugging her arms. “I’m not stupid. Why would I give a Master Rune to you?”

“It’s true, Xian’er.” Xiao Yifeng sighed, looking at her with a gaze full of heartbreak. “In our previous life, though we were of different races, we loved each other. We swore oaths by the sea and the mountains. You gave me this rune personally. You told me to carve it on you. You said… if there was a next life, we would still be lovers.”

He choked back a sob. “I died and was reborn. I found Mo Tianqing solely to rescue you. It’s a pity… you misunderstand me so deeply now. But to die by your hand? I have no regrets.”

Xiao Yifeng looked like the tragic hero of a romance novel. Internally, he was screaming. Please take the bait. Take the bait!

“Impossible…” The Spirit’s eyes widened. “How could I like you? I… I am a Demon Sword!”

But she wavered. And as she wavered, the blood on the sword tip creeped a millimeter closer.

Xiao Yifeng saw it. It’s working! Increase the bullshit!

“It’s true. Look at my face, Xian’er. Does it not stir a memory in your soul?” Xiao Yifeng’s voice trembled. “That rune represents your heart.”

“Stop… stop it…” The Spirit put her hands over her ears, her face flushing red. “Don’t try to fool me! If we were lovers, why is this a Master-Servant contract? Shouldn’t we be equals? You’re trying to enslave me!”

She had found the logic hole.

Xiao Yifeng’s heart skipped a beat. Damn, she’s sharp. Just like her past self.

“Speechless? Ha! You are lying!” The Spirit pointed an accusing finger at him. She was blushing furiously now—anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell. “You almost got me! Despicable!”

“Xian’er! I am not lying!” Xiao Yifeng shouted, his voice ringing with desperate sincerity. “You said this rune was unique! You said you wanted to be my sword slave for life! You begged me to be your Master in the next life because you loved calling me ‘Master’! If I am lying, may the Five Thunderbolts strike me down right now!”

“Stop talking! Shut up! Shut up!”

The Zhan Xian Sword Spirit couldn’t take it anymore. She squatted on the ground, burying her head in her knees like a frightened quail. Her face was burning so hot it could have boiled water.

“Hehe… hehe…” She let out strange, broken giggles. She looked completely broken.

It was the ultimate Social Death.

Xiao Yifeng felt a pang of guilt. Sorry, Zhan Xian. If I don’t shame you into submission, I die.

Sensing her psychological defenses crumbling, Xiao Yifeng seized the moment. The resistance on the sword tip vanished.

He poured his remaining will into the blood.

“Contract… SEAL!”

Hummmmm!

The ritual completed. The two streams of blood merged at the tip of the blade, fusing perfectly. The blinding blood-light dimmed, retreating into the black steel.

The barrier dissolved.

The Zhan Xian sword lay in Xiao Yifeng’s hand. It looked similar to the weapon from his past life, but the chaotic, evil aura was now restrained, locked deep within the intricate, dizzying patterns of the Master Seal.

Victory.

Xiao Yifeng took a step forward, intending to comfort the girl squatting on the ground. But his body had reached its limit. His vision went black, and he collapsed, the sword still gripped tightly in his hand.

Hearing the thud, the Sword Spirit peeked up from her knees. Seeing him unconscious, she slowly stood up and walked over to him.

Her red eyes were filled with complex emotions. Her face was still flushed with the afterglow of embarrassment.

She bit her lip, looking down at the unconscious boy.

“Master…”

Xiao Yifeng dreamed.

It was a long dream. In it, he stood in a grand hall within the Starry Sky Holy Temple, dressed in black and gold brocade robes. Beside him stood a woman in a red dress—peerlessly enchanting, beautiful enough to topple empires.

She smiled at him, a smile full of charm and danger.

“Xiao Yifeng, do you really want to start the Fourth Great War? After this, neither of us may survive. Do you have any last wishes?”

“Zhan Xian,” he replied, his voice weary but playful. “It’s not about what I want anymore. As for wishes… heh. If I survive this war, can I hear you call me ‘Master’ just once?”

The woman rolled her eyes, looking at him with affectionate disdain.

“You want me to call you Master? In your next life, maybe.”

She raised a jade-like hand and traced a complex, glowing rune in the air.

“This is my Master Recognition Rune,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a pity you aren’t dead, and we already have a contract. But… if you die, and if we meet in the next life, and if you remember this rune… I’ll give you a chance to be my Master. Hahaha!”

“You…” He looked at the laughing woman, speechless.

The scene shifted. The woman began to dissolve into light. She looked back at him one last time, smiled, and silently mouthed two words.

Xiao Yifeng woke up to a splitting headache. Even opening his eyes felt like lifting a mountain.

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog. He struggled into a sitting position. The Sword Spirit was gone, retreated back into the blade. Only the Fire Crow Array was still humming softly, maintaining the concealment.

Xiao Yifeng looked down at his hand.

The Zhan Xian sword lay quietly in his grip.

A grin spread across his pale face.

“Zhan Xian… the next life is here.”

He glanced up. The sky was beginning to gray. Dawn was approaching.

Damn. He had been unconscious for too long. If he didn’t get back before sunrise, questions would be asked.

He tried to stand but stumbled, falling to one knee. He grit his teeth, forced himself up, and mounted the flying sword.