157: Receiving the inheritance

The sand and wind whipped against his face, stinging painfully.

Shen Xiaochuan stood in the center of the altar, his hand still resting on the stone box, his eyes fixed on the Evil Sheep Priest.

The old man lowered his head, and a single tear fell onto the stone.

He slowly raised his hand to wipe his face, his movements sluggish, as if he were extremely exhausted.

"Do you... have a connection with this sword?" Shen Xiaochuan asked, frowning.

"It is not a Demonic Weapon," the Evil Sheep Priest said, his voice hoarse.

"Then what is it?"

"It is me," he said. "And it is the way I survived."

Shen Xiaochuan didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

The Evil Sheep Priest took a breath, his fingers digging into the cracks in the stone, his knuckles turning white.

"Many years ago, the royal city still existed. The king did not believe in gods; he only believed in war. When the enemy attacked, three cities were lost in a single day. The commoners fled into the city, but the generals fled outward. No one wanted to defend it, and no one believed it could be defended."

He paused, a muffled sound issuing from his throat.

"I was the State Preceptor, without much ability or power. But I knew that if no one stood up, the city would be gone. So I went to the Forbidden Ground and found this sword. It is called 'Guixu', a Seal vessel left behind from ancient times. Its usage is very simple—whoever holds it becomes its vessel."

"A vessel?" Shen Xiaochuan frowned. "To hold what?"

"To hold the souls of the dead, the obsessions of warriors, and all the lingering resentment that refuses to dissipate." He smiled bitterly. "It doesn't kill; it devours. It consumes your body, leaves your consciousness behind, and turns you into... a thing that is neither living nor dead. I was the first to volunteer to enter it."

The wind suddenly stopped.

The air grew heavy, pressing down on his chest uncomfortably.

"I took it to the battlefield and killed every invading demon. But I also changed. My eyes became fierce, my speech carried the scent of blood, and I walked as if I were floating. When the soldiers saw me, they knelt and begged for mercy. I was no longer the State Preceptor; in their eyes, I had become an 'Evil God'."

He raised his hand, palm facing up. A black crack crawled from his wrist to his fingertips, like a charred tree root.

"Later, I confined myself to this wasteland and built an altar. Every time I killed a demon, I sealed its soul into the sword. Each time I sealed one, the sword became heavier, and I became less human. In the end, I forgot my own name and only remembered one sentence—hold the line, and don't let those behind you come here to die in vain."

Shen Xiaochuan looked at him, remaining silent for a long time.

He understood this feeling. Even when you want to run, there are too many people behind you watching you, forcing you to hold on.

"Then why did you cry when you saw the sword?" he asked.

The Evil Sheep Priest's eyes were complex, his voice very soft: "Because it recognizes you. It did not resist you, nor did it consume you. It... was waiting for you."

"Waiting for me for what? I'm not you."

"I am not you, but you are the one who can wield it." He stood up slowly. "For thousands of years, how many have come to snatch the sword, wanting to use it to claim kingship? But the moment they touched it, they were sucked dry into mummies. Only you brought it back and remained alive."

He walked to the edge of the altar and traced a few lines in the air. The ground shook, and the cracks glowed with red light, forming an ancient array.

"The place where you are standing now is the Legacy array. The power of Aminos has been waiting here for over three hundred years. You killed the Demon King and brought back the Guixu sword, so you are qualified to ascend."

He looked down at the stone slab beneath his feet. It was engraved with complex patterns, with the shadow of an inverted sword in the center, looking very mysterious.

"Go up," he said. "Close your eyes, and do not resist. The power will enter on its own."

Shen Xiaochuan didn't move.

"How painful is it?"

"A little more painful than death."

Shen Xiaochuan tugged at the corner of his mouth and stepped onto it.

A surge of heat rushed up from the soles of his feet, like molten iron pouring into his body. His knees buckled, and he almost collapsed, but he gritted his teeth and held on.

"Do not circulate your Qi, do not resist!" the Evil Sheep Priest shouted. "Let it flow through your Meridians!"

Shen Xiaochuan groaned in his throat. His vision went black, and his ears buzzed. His bones felt like they were being taken apart and put back together. He dug his nails into his thighs, tearing his clothes and drawing blood.

"Breathe! Follow your heartbeat!"

He gasped for air, his teeth chattering. Many images flashed through his mind: as a child, his parents working in the factory while he gnawed on a steamed bun at the door; university classmates laughing at his work clothes, saying the Mechanical System was only good for fixing pipes; the day of his Awakening, his mentor shaking his head and saying "zero combat talent," and him hiding in the dormitory at night, browsing the Faith Mall...

These images flashed by, only to be torn apart by the pain.

In his delirium, he counted softly: "One... two..."

With every count, a wisp of warmth emerged within his body. It was the faith points that increased automatically every day.

One second, +1, as steady as a clock.

This rhythm became his only reliance. He began to breathe along with it.

Inhale — +1

Exhale — +1

Inhale again — +1

The pain was still there, but it no longer threatened to tear him apart. He felt that power flowing along his Meridians, like a flood finding its path.

The Evil Sheep Priest stood below, forming Seals with his hands, chanting something. A gray light rose from his body, flowing bit by bit into the array.

"Almost there... hold on a little longer..." His voice was weak, but firm.

Relying on the rhythm of the faith points, Shen Xiaochuan gritted his teeth and held on, not passing out.

He didn't know how long it had been.

A sharp pain struck his chest.

He arched his back and spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone slab.

As soon as the blood hit the ground, it was absorbed by the array, and a flash of red light flared.

Then, a massive amount of information surged into his mind. Not words, nor sounds. It was something imprinted directly into his consciousness—combat instincts, survival experience, and an understanding of power.

And the memories of Aminos: guarding the city in the snow for thirty days, eating grass roots and drinking horse blood; watching his brothers fall one by one, piling their corpses into a wall; and before his final charge, shouting to the sky, "Mother, your son has been unfilial."

Shen Xiaochuan's body trembled. He was not Aminos, but he understood how this man had survived.

Another shock hit him, this time his body was changing. Muscles grew stronger, bones hardened, and his internal organs felt as if they had been cleansed. He felt his combat power rising: 1800... 1950... 2100... Finally stopping at 2430.

He opened his eyes.

The sky was still gray, and the sand and wind were still blowing.

But he was different.

He looked down at his hands; black lines flowed within his palm prints, like electric currents.

The Evil Sheep Priest let go, his body swaying as he leaned against a stone pillar.

Shen Xiaochuan walked off the altar, his steps steady.

"How do you feel?" the old man asked.

"Like I've changed bodies," he said, moving his wrists. "I'm stronger, and my mind is clearer."

"Can you control it?"

"Yes."

He closed his eyes, guiding the rampaging energy within his body toward the faith points System. At first it was difficult, with the energy colliding chaotically, but under the "+1 per second" rhythm, it slowly became obedient and began to circulate.

He took three deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes, a flash of golden light flickered in his pupils.

The glow over his body vanished, returning to normal.

"You are stronger than I imagined," the Evil Sheep Priest said softly. "I thought you would explode."

"I was afraid too," Shen Xiaochuan said, touching the copper gear pendant on his sleeve. "But if I didn't try, the people behind me would continue to die."

The old man smiled, and his lips cracked and bled.

"This sword..." he pointed to the stone box, "is yours from now on."

"Is it really called Guixu?"

"Yes. It means 'All things shall eventually return here'."

"That sounds quite mystical."

"Not mystical. It is just a tool, like the blade in your hand. Used by a good person, it is a guard dog; used by a bad person, it is a man-eating wolf."

Shen Xiaochuan nodded and closed the stone box.

"Thank you," he said.

The Evil Sheep Priest stumbled back a step, leaning against the stone pillar, gasping for air.

Shen Xiaochuan didn't speak. He knew that some people lived solely to pave a path for those who would come after.

He stood at the beginning of that path. The distant sand dunes stood silently, the sky gloomy.

The Evil Sheep Priest closed his eyes and remained motionless.

Shen Xiaochuan took one last look at him, turned, and walked toward the edge of the wasteland.

But he did not go far.

He stopped and stood still.

His breath was steady, his combat power stable, and the sword of the Evil God lay quietly in the stone box.

He closed his eyes to regulate his breathing, feeling the balance between his new power and the faith points System.

The sand and wind whipped against his face, stinging a little, but it felt very real.