539: Chapter 539 Undying

The silence of the 108 Sword Masters was not a deathly stillness—it was an echo that had sunk into the abyss of eternity, enough to crush Reincarnation itself.

This silence crushed the dust in the Void Realm and solidified the lingering Sword Intent shadows that had drifted for ten thousand years; even time itself was ground into nothingness by this heavy silence.

Deep within the eyes of every Sword Master's remnant Soul, the same image was reflected—the figure kneeling in the center of the Void Realm, and the grayish-white light core pulsing in his chest, reminiscent of the moment Chaos first opened.

Then—Wanyan Shu's golden eyes, like two ignited primordial suns, suddenly contracted into scorching points the size of needle tips!

He stared fixedly at the Sword Child; no, his gaze was like a sword, piercing through the Sword Child!

His gaze was like a chisel, chiseling through flesh, through bone, and into the deepest part of that grayish-white light core—there, a Sword Dao storm capable of overturning eternity was brewing!

This Sword Intent—it was as grayish-white as the first crack split open when Chaos first opened!

It was as sharp as if all the divine swords in the Myriad Heavens and Worlds were hissing in unison at the same instant!

It was as endless as the river of fate, surging from the source of time, never-ending!

And the most terrifying part was its "Life"—broken, it used the Void Realm as a string to reconnect! Shattered, it used time as a furnace to recongeal! Extinguished, it used its own ashes of tribulation as a seed to reignite!

This was the absolute Law that transcended shattering and extinction—Myriad Kalpa Immortal Sword Body!

Wanyan Shu's lips began to tremble uncontrollably.

This trembling welled up from the deepest part of his remnant Soul, affecting the Foundation of Sword Intent that had condensed over eternity.

Then—this trembling turned into a laugh.

It was not the tragic, violent laughter filled with blood, fire, hatred, and anger from before.

Instead, it was an almost insane ecstasy—bursting forth from the deepest layer of endless frozen darkness, breaking through the oppression of eternity, and finally seeing the true dawn!

"Ha... Hahaha—hahaha!!!"

The laughter exploded!

It was not a sound, but a tangible destructive impact!

The Void Realm cracked inch by inch like glazed glass, and the floating ancient debris silently turned into the finest dust!

The billions of lingering Sword Intent traces permeating the surroundings were stirred into monstrous waves by this laughter!

Even his own remnant Soul body, already covered in cracks and constantly dissipating, trembled violently in the resonance triggered by this laughter; his Soul light flickered, as if it were about to completely and joyfully burst apart the next moment!

"Myriad Kalpa Immortal Sword Body!"

He enunciated each word, roaring as if he had exhausted the strength of an epoch for every single one, his voice shaking the Nine Serenities and resounding through the clouds of eternity!

Those burning golden eyes were so intense they could burn away the long night of eternity!

His left fist was no longer clenched; instead, he slammed it—violently pounding against his own broken chest!

"Bang!"

The black-gold blood of his remnant Soul sprayed out, and as it fell into the Void Realm, it actually hissed as it burned holes!

Yet he was completely unaware—or rather, this pain only made him feel incomparably real and immensely gratified at this moment!

"Heaven and Earth!" He roared at the sky, his voice like billions of thunderclaps grinding across the endless starry dome, filled with a sobbing tone, but even more so with a roar that broke through all shackles, "Heaven and Earth—have not treated The Sword Lineage—unfairly!!!"

This cry ignited all the volcanoes that had been silent for eternity!

All 108 Sword Masters were moved!

In the Red-Haired Swordmaster's hand, the seemingly scorched wooden sword suddenly erupted; the flickering sparks on the blade exploded into Nirvana flames that pierced the sky and connected to the earth!

He grinned, revealing white teeth, his laughter rough and unrestrained: "Haha! It's been an eternity! I have waited for a full eternity!"

As he laughed, the flames reflected in his eyes actually turned into scalding, crimson fire tears that slid down his steel-like cheeks.

"Clang—"

The rusted, seemingly fragile remnant sword in the white-haired old woman's hand shed all its rust in that instant, and the cold light it emitted was so sharp that the surrounding Void Realm moaned!

Her gaunt body trembled, and the hand leaning on the sword shook like a withered leaf in the autumn wind.

Her raspy, broken voice carried a sobbing tone and hoarseness suppressed for countless Reincarnations: "Myriad Kalpa Immortal... Myriad Kalpa Immortal... This old woman... I thought this old body would not live to be buried in the Sword Tomb, nor would I live to see this day..."

The Black-robed Youth remained as cold as frost, like ice that had frozen for ten thousand years.

But his hand gripping the sword had knuckles turned white from excessive force, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged like a trapped dragon struggling.

The divine sword in the sheath, which had never been fully revealed, hummed spontaneously, unsheathing three inches!

The bone-chilling and incomparably violent Sword Intent roared, as if wanting to break free from all constraints!

He only spat out three words, each one slamming onto the Void Realm, creating ice-crack marks: "Good. Good. Good."

Even in Sword Ruthless's double pupils, those grayish, crack-like paths that seemed to lead to destruction lit up at this moment!

This was not the light of out-of-control rampaging!

This was resonance! This was a response!

The ancient Sword Intent within him, which had been silent yet violent, was like subjects awakened by a supreme monarch.

It surged with an unprecedented, tumultuous force like a world-destroying tsunami, echoing from afar with the newborn Myriad Kalpa Immortal Sword Body in the distance—like twin brothers separated for countless epochs, crossing endless time and space, finally sensing each other's most primal aura!

108 Sword Masters.

108 broken yet still proud Souls.

At this moment, deep within their long-cooled Soul fires, and upon their Sword Hearts that had been sealed by despair for eternity, the same figure and the same light were reflected—this was the first ray of light piercing the eternal night.

It was hope!

Wanyan Shu's laughter, which had shaken the Void Realm, gradually subsided and sank like a receding tide.

The scorching ecstasy in his golden eyes did not disappear but slowly condensed, sinking into the deepest part of his eyes, turning into a more complex and heavier radiance.

He stared at the Sword Child, staring at this inheritor who carried all hope yet had arrived so "inopportunely," for a long time—so long that it seemed he wanted to carve every inch of the Sword Child's skin and every wisp of Sword Intent into his own soon-to-dissipate Soul seal.

Then, he sighed.

This sigh was very light, as light as a goose feather.

Yet it was heavier than the stars of eternity, making the Void Realm moan, causing the hearts of every Sword Master to sink suddenly, and making the Sword Child almost suffocate.

"What a pity."

He lowered his head, looking at his own remnant Soul body, whose golden light was dimming and constantly dissipating into particles of light.

He looked at the shattered Legacy box on his left arm, which was covered in spiderweb-like cracks, also trembling slightly, and moving toward ultimate destruction.

Looking at those cracks—just like the ones on his Soul body, dense, crisscrossing, they were fatal wounds left by time and tribulation that could never heal again.

He raised his head, his gaze falling back onto the Sword Child's face.

In his golden eyes, within the condensed radiance, a bitterness that seeped into the bone marrow surged, along with an unwillingness that stirred the Soul marrow, and finally, it turned into a resignation as heavy as a falling star corpse.

"If you..." Wanyan Shu's voice went hoarse, carrying the illusory echo of a Soul body about to dissipate, "could have come a little earlier, it would have been good."

A little earlier.

Even if just a thousand years earlier—the remnant Soul could still have condensed, the power of the Legacy could still have functioned, and The Sword Lineage would still have had a chance to catch its breath.

To carefully carve this unprecedented Sword Body, to teach everything, and to forge it into a supreme blade that could sever fate!

Even if just a hundred years earlier—perhaps they could have gathered the last of their strength to lay the initial Sword Dao Foundation for him!

Even if just a year, a month, a day earlier... Perhaps the ending would have been different.

But now.

The remnant Soul had reached the final moment of exhaustion, like a candle in the wind, about to be completely extinguished in the next instant.

The Legacy was about to be cut off, and the cracks on the shattered box were the final countdown for the last inheritance of The Sword Lineage.

The battle they launched by burning their last strength had squeezed out the very last bit of Origin that sustained their existence.

The Myriad Kalpa Immortal Sword Body had arrived.

But the people who could teach him, guide him, and pass on all the Profound Truths of The Sword Lineage to him... were about to be gone.

The Sword Child knelt in the cold Void Realm, looking up at the bitterness and unwillingness almost overflowing from Wanyan Shu's eyes, his gaze sweeping over the clearly visible, fine cracks on the bodies of the surrounding Sword Master remnant Souls, like exquisite porcelain about to shatter completely.

The grayish-white light core in his chest suddenly contracted—immediately followed by a sharp pain as if it were being fiercely gripped and almost crushed by an invisible giant hand!

This was not the pain of the Physical Body!

It was a deeper pain of despair brought about by the resonance of hope!

He opened his mouth, his Adam's apple rolling, wanting to shout, wanting to roar, wanting to question this absurd fate.

But a thousand words and ten thousand emotions were all blocked in his throat, frozen into solid ice, ground into dust—in the end, he could not spit out a single word, only turning into trembling lips and instantly bloodshot eyes.

At the highest point of the Void Realm, Lu Changzhi's remnant Soul stood quietly, his grayish-white long hair drifting in the silent airflow.

His grayish-white pupils, which had seen the rise and fall of eternity and carried too many schemes and waitings, now clearly reflected every face, every crack, and every trace of bitterness and despair below.

In his eyes, regret was like the tide when the Universe first opened, surging and pounding against the embankment of reason; helplessness was like a cooled iron core after the failure of forging a star, sinking heavily into the deepest part of his Soul, without another sound.

Eternity of scheming, calculating all Heavenly secrets.

Eternity of waiting, exhausting all mental energy.

Eternity of sealing, imprisoning himself here.

Was what he was waiting for not this very day?

Was it not this Myriad Kalpa Immortal Sword Body truly Awakening and emerging into the world?

But the Heavenly Dao, after all, plays with people.

The moment of the Sword Body's Major Achievement and Awakening was exactly the moment the remnant Souls were burnt out and about to dissipate.

One moment earlier, the Legacy would still exist, and hope would be expected.

One moment later, the Sword Body would not be formed, and the waiting would continue.

But it happened to be this moment.

Neither too early nor too late—right on the blade's edge between hope and despair, at the boundary of light and extinction.