AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword - Chapter 185: Eternal Red (15)

When I regain my perception, of both the external and internal worlds, I do not register any changes at first. The veiled figure remains seated in the chair, arms and legs crossed, and Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan are still in the same position.

It is almost as if no time at all had passed.

This is not surprising. The passage of time, to experienced cultivators, is but a trivial matter. In this regard, cultivators are similar to myself. With their minds cultivated and honed to levels that can ignore boredom for hundreds of years, spending a few years without moving a muscle is simple, let alone thirty days.

However, when I focus more on the environment, some discrepancies begin to show indicating that time has passed, and not an insignificant amount either.

The most obvious difference is the fact that my vessel is in the worst state that it has ever been; even when I suffered breaks, the properties of what remained were at the peak of expected performance. Now, what is left of my vessel is riddled with cracks and fractures that render it useless.

[ Physical damage: 77% ]

A sub-routine immediately informs me that the extent of damage to my physical vessel has reached an extreme grade, though I don’t need the sub-routine to inform me of this. Pulse Termination has completely cut off the vitality circulating in my vessel which, as I have no circulatory system, is a process related closer to spirituality than physicality.

The vitality that has maintained my shape and sharpened my blade has been completely halted, resulting in my vessel undergoing a process similar to extreme aging. My once pristine blade is now chipped to such a severe degree that a sharp edge can not be located. Corrosion has invaded what remains of my broken vessel, even though until now I operated on the assumption that my alloys were not susceptible to such natural processes.

However, what does remain of my vessel has undergone an unprecedented evolution. Despite the severe degree of damage, what remains uncorrupted in my physical vessel is more powerful than the totality of my previously undamaged state.

My pulse, in the spiritual sense, was my bond to the domain of mortals and common sense. By eradicating it, I also erase this bond and liberate my vessel from the confines of the lower-order natural laws. This is why, beneath the corrupted exterior of my suffering physical state lies an extraordinary sword that can defy natural laws, and wound even those things which are otherwise unkillable.

Including the veiled figure.

The next stage of my vessel cultivation is Blood Destruction and it follows similar principles as the previous stage. My blood is the blueprint of my vessel and also the material that makes up my vessel. All my metal and jade is formed from my blood.

This process requires the destruction of my blood, as a form of tempering, and there is no way to cultivate this stage except to increase my physical damage extent to one hundred percent, in order to achieve a complete transformation. Only when my blood is completely depleted can I reform my shattered core and begin naturally absorbing the vitality of nature.

In other words, I need powerful opponents that can damage my vessel; a proper analogy would be the process of sharpening a blade.

After confirming the state of my vessel, I focus on Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan.

Their organs have completely recovered, indicating that they successfully managed to cultivate the Yin-Yang Meditation layer of [Empty Moon Prana]. But this is far from being the most impressive change.

Though it likely has the least impact on their future, the resolve within their Dao Hearts is far greater than before. The depth of their resentment toward the veiled figure and their attachment to each other has reached an extreme degree, turning their already strong Dao Hearts into something that far more closely resembles that of a resentful sword: unyielding, relentless, and merciless.

When I enter my Inner World, I am immediately met by a scene of vast devastation.

A large number of buildings have not only fallen into disrepair, due to a lack of maintenance, but some have regressed to a lower grade qualification. Most of the streets, once paved with smooth stone bricks, have turned into little more than dirt paths.

It is not only the unnecessary buildings that have been cut off from my Inner World Energy to maintain the few functioning formations but half of the entities within my Inner World have also been erased from existence due to failures to generate enough energy.

Epsilon’s tyrannical methods are effective, however. What remains of the inhabitants within my Inner World have all formed factions around the few entities that can forge weapons, armor, talismans, or create medicine. All of them, without exception, participate in the [Killing Field], struggling to meet the quota to maintain the operation of my Inner World due to the absurd time compression in use.

Currently, at twenty to one.

In other words, Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan have most likely spent more than a year inside my Inner World, honing their killing intent, their hearts, and their skills all for the opportunity to kill the veiled figure. If the time compression remained constant for the entire duration, it would amount to twenty months of experience.

With the end of my journey more than likely, I do not concern myself with the state of my Inner World or its destruction. I head toward the [Icy Sword Waterfall] formation where I expect to find Lan Xiaohui, but when I pass the boundary into the formation world, I find Wu Yulan instead.

She sits in the middle of the waterfall, and I do not detect any sparks flying off of her. The water that is filled with the rampaging sword Qi, which easily turned Lan Xiaohui into mist, falls on her body without leaving so much as a mark on her.

I do not sense any aura, qi, or energy either. She is completely defenseless against the waterfall, and yet, it is as if it cannot do any damage to her. Even I would find it troublesome to be in the most damaging part of the waterfall without any defenses.

I observe her for several minutes in an attempt to discover the method of her defense and note that she only takes a breath once a minute. However, when she does breathe in, the entire flow of the waterfall stalls and freezes for a brief moment, and the qi within it is entirely depleted and compressed to an extreme degree within her dantian.

As I get no closer to understanding the method of her defense — or cultivation for that matter — I depart the formation and enter the [Killing Field].

I immediately find myself in the void, just in time to catch a glimpse of the fading corona of black energy that emanates from Lan Xiaohui’s sword — my damaged vessel, detached from my consciousness — and the Nascent Soul realm beast that falls at her feet, head separated from its body.

That corona of black energy and that incomprehensible glint of light within the motes of sword Qi — I only see them briefly — give me a deep sense of overwhelming might.

I have never seen such a technique before.

She is covered in wounds, and there is no telling how many demonic beasts, and of what rank, she had defeated already.

As she is about to depart the [Killing Field], she suddenly stops, looks over her shoulder, and smiles. “Yaoyue,” she says. “You are awake.”

She has always been able to detect my presence, but to pinpoint my location — or vantage point, at least from my perspective — is something new.

The way in which she greets me is devoid of any resentment toward me or feelings of abandonment.

“I am sorry for not taking better care of you,” she says, as she pets the side of my physical vessel which in this world is also warped and ruined.

“It is not your fault,” I tell her, not bothering to explain that her training method had nothing to do with the reason my vessel is in such a state. “You are almost out of time. Are you ready?”

She lowers her head and remains silent for a long time.

It is only when I see the tears fall from her eyes that I realize that she was not apologizing for my physical state but for the entire situation.

This foolish girl does not fear or regret death. The only thing that she regrets is that she won’t be able to walk by my side anymore.

When her tears shatter on the glassy floor, I also feel the shattering of the bubbles in her heart. All those dreams of the future, the relentlessness of her desires to be by my side, and the foolishness of reaching for my hand time and time again — once they brought her joy, now there is only comfortable pain.

She vehemently shakes her head to my question, freeing more tears from her eyes. But not a single sob or sound escapes from her throat. Her hands ball into fists and her eyes screw tightly shut.

All those things that once glittered in her heart are now like those tears glittering around her feet; weakly, brightly, defeated.

I understand her heart better than anyone. All those armed hopes in her heart, the many things she still wanted to do, and the things she wanted to share with me; they are all evaporating before her eyes now, disappearing like smoke into the dark clouds overhead as she realizes that it is time to wake up from this unpleasant dream, and enter an ever darker nightmare.

For nearly two years, she must’ve thought about these things while pushing her limits. Almost two years of knowing that the end is unavoidable; she, who never had great ambitions, wouldn’t be allowed to even exit the world of the living with even the smallest victory.

My sentient core pities her.

Even in this life, I am destined to outlive my masters. Flesh falters; steel remains forever.

“Yaoyue,” she begins, forcing a smile to her lips while the tears still glimmer in her eyes. Her tone is artificially steady to hide the hole in her heart. “In this life, there is only one thing left for me to do. I want to show you one final sword. Will you watch me closely?”

Her words catch me by surprise. Even now, she can still surprise me. Even if, in this life, she cannot obtain any of the things she wants, she can still do this one thing to prove that she has existed. Not to the world, but to me.

I pity her, but I am also proud of her. Lan Xiaohui truly lived as a sword, and she will die as one. I do not regret that I will outlive her. I likely won’t outlive her for long.

I decide to reward her by encompassing her right hand with my consciousness, like that time during the Red Banner Festival.

“I will watch you closely,” I tell her, as her heart fills with dark, destructive confidence once more. “Lan Xiaohui, I am proud to have been found by you. If the sword you show me is beautiful, it will remain with me until the day I also disappear from this world.”

My words have the intended effect, and I feel Lan Xiaohui’s heart enter a state of stillness, focus, and, strangely enough, joy.

She nods, sniffling. This time, her smile is more genuine. “I am ready,” she says. “I just need a bit more time to prepare and to talk to Yulan.”