Chapter 4
Li Yuan had spoken with such stirring conviction that my blood surged the entire way to the artifact vault as I imagined the treasures awaiting me.
I opened the door and was greeted by a pungent blast of mildew.
My right eyelid twitched violently.
I was such a fool. Truly.
I knew Forgecraft Peak was poor. I simply had not realized it was this poor.
The “Artifact Vault.”
Listen to that grand and lofty name. Anyone hearing it would assume untold treasures lay inside.
In reality, the so-called “vault” was merely a little wooden shack covered in cobwebs.
And its sole “artifact” was a pitch-black iron sword blanketed in rust. Its hilt was as thick as both my arms put together, and the whole thing was terribly unwieldy.
I had good reason to suspect Li Yuan had pulled it from a rubbish heap and deliberately planted it here to fool me.
Other sword cultivators at my level had long since acquired personal swords, either fantastically powerful or breathtakingly beautiful. Mine was neither. If I took it outside, people would probably laugh their teeth out.
Still, something was better than nothing.
From that day forward, I officially began practicing the sword.
I cobbled my cultivation method together from scraps in the library, and my sword techniques were a move from here and a stroke from there.
I could not even lift the sword, which weighed a full two hundred kilograms. Most days, all I did was swing it from my right side to my left, then back to my right.
I called it—sword dancing.
Whether it achieved anything, I could not say. My biceps certainly grew much more impressive.
Time flew, and soon the Immortal Examination arrived a month later.
In my first match, I faced my sworn rival, Zhao Ji. Like me, he came from the Zhao clan, a family of immortal cultivators.
The difference was that he belonged to the main line, while I came from a collateral branch.
Zhao Ji had precious little talent for cultivation, but his father had money to burn.
The moment he stepped onto the platform, he whipped out an entire pile of treasures: protective talismans, a compass for setting formations, and of course, a sword I had coveted for ages.
Disapproving murmurs rose all around us.
“Zhao Ji is going too far. Zhao Fuqu is still a member of his own clan. Does he really have to crush her so completely?”
“Haven’t you heard? Zhao Ji has been close to Ah Yuan lately.”
“Oh. That explains it.”
“Look at Zhao Fuqu. She’s so calm. Does she have a plan?”
Under everyone’s expectant gaze, I slowly drew my Big Sword from my storage pouch.
“…”
Sure enough, they laughed their teeth out.
Zhao Ji laughed hardest of all, cackling like a brothel madam and bending so far over he could barely straighten his waist.
“Ha ha ha! Zhao Fuqu, you’re so frightened even your sword is trembling.”
I frowned. The sword was indeed shaking, but my hand was steady. The weapon itself was actually humming.
Before I could think further, Zhao Ji attacked. I retreated two steps and, in my panic, swung on instinct, moving the sword from right to left just as I did every day in training.
Not bad. After so much practice, the motion came easily.
But before the sword tip even touched the ground, Zhao Ji flew away like a kite with its string cut. He crashed onto the marble platform and coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“You—Zhao Fuqu!”
The spectators were stunned.
“Did anyone see what technique she used?”
“What technique? She made only one move, and Zhao Ji went flying!”
“T-terrifying! She’s even using a worthless iron sword. Imagine how powerful she’d be with a real spiritual artifact!”
“No wonder she placed first in the Immortal Trials. Talent truly does matter.”
The crowd whispered, every eye fixed on me. No one noticed that the battered iron sword in my hand was furiously devouring the spiritual energy inside Zhao Ji’s artifacts.
By the time he recovered and limped back onto the platform to collect them, every artifact on which he had spent a fortune had inexplicably stopped working.