On Cang Mountain,
a white-haired man sat cross-legged, his hair disheveled.
Amidst the yellow earth,
the Black Sword and White Sword were tightly intertwined, arcs of electricity and evil qi lingering on the blades like residual waves, flickering mysteriously.
At least, no one had ever seen a spiritual artifact emerge in such a manner.
In tales told with a strike of a gavel in some teahouses, it would be "The Demon Sword Emerges, the World Cannot Tolerate It."
Otherwise, why would thunder descend, why would Earth Fiend surge, why would they converge here... was this not all to stop the weapon forger, so that the Demon Sword could not emerge?
But stories are just stories, the heavens are indifferent, and there is no such thing as the world being intolerable.
This is merely a natural phenomenon that outsiders cannot understand.
To Li Yuan, he was also in a state of confusion, yet he had some epiphanies.
