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When Xu Zimo arrived at the arena, it was already packed with a dense crowd.

At the center of the stage, two young men stood, swords in hand.

The one on the left wore a blue robe. His gaze was calm, but from his eyes shot forth an endless sword intent.

His entire being was wrapped in that sword intent, unyielding and eternal, evoking the impression of a timeless, indestructible will.

The young man on the right wore a white robe. He didn’t exude any great aura, nor did he have a sharp sword presence about him.

He looked more like an ordinary man. His robe was as white as snow, and a three-foot-long sword hung at his waist.

Xu Zimo was slightly surprised when he saw the white-robed young man.

“Isn’t that Yan Buhui?” Little Gui exclaimed in disbelief.

Yan Buhui had parted ways with Xu Zimo earlier, saying he would enter the mortal world to seek insight into his sword path.

At the time, Xu Zimo thought he’d stay in the Western Region to train, he hadn’t expected him to arrive all the way in the Eastern Continent.

Though it had been a while, the aura around Yan Buhui now had a sense of returning to simplicity.

He no longer displayed his most lethal sword energy outwardly, as he used to.

As the two stood face-to-face in the arena, the crowd below was buzzing with chatter.

"That white-robed guy doesn’t look like much. He already seems overwhelmed by Unbreaking Sword Qin Feiming just from aura alone."

"You think just anyone can compare to Qin Feiming? A few years ago, even the Holy Son of the Mo Imperial Clan came to challenge him and left in utter defeat."

"Mo Imperial Clan?" someone unfamiliar asked.

"The one in the Eastern Continent’s core region, the clan of the Formation Emperor," came the reply.

"Would the Mo Imperial Clan really just sit back after their Holy Son was beaten?" another asked.

"Do you know where Qin Feiming comes from?" someone chuckled. "He’s from Heaven Ender."

Just those two simple words, Heaven Ender, were enough to make the entire crowd fall silent.

One sect, three emperors, a legacy like a blade hanging over the heads of all.

Founded by the Grand Emperor Tian Ya, later strengthened by the Grand Emperor Zhi Chi and the Fierce Emperor, Heaven Ender wasn’t a traditional sect or clan, it functioned more like a massive intelligence organization.

They collected information on all rare people and artifacts in the world and sold it to those who needed it.

Even the World’s Rarest Treasures List and the Wind-Cloud Rankings were compiled by them.

Their main headquarters was in the Middle Continent, with branches spread across the other four.

...

At the center of the arena, Qin Feiming’s sharp gaze remained fixed on Yan Buhui.

He said calmly, “Defeat me, and you’ll earn the Eternal Sword God’s inheritance.”

“I don’t care for the Sword God’s inheritance,” Yan Buhui smiled gently. “I just enjoy fighting other swordsmen.”

Qin Feiming’s eyes narrowed slightly. His blue robe fluttered as he struck out with his sword.

A sudden, furious blade of light tore down from the heavens, seemingly slicing the world in two.

Yan Buhui looked up slightly, and in that moment, he became like a drawn sword himself.

He raised his right hand, using it as a sword, and gently slashed through the air.

The sword light falling from the sky shattered instantly, dispersing into nothingness.

“I first touched a sword at age three,” Yan Buhui said calmly, eyes focused on Qin Feiming. “When I was seven, someone very important to me left this world.”

A soft breeze stirred, blowing Yan Buhui’s long hair into disarray.

He looked down at the sword in his hand and muttered, “From then on, this sword became my only companion.”

As a crisp clang echoed, countless sword lights soared into the sky, chaotic and fierce.

“At sixteen, I entered the True Martial Sacred Ground and received my ancestor’s inheritance the same year.”

Drawing his sword, he pointed it at Qin Feiming.

“Since then, I’ve wandered the martial world, refining my sword path through life.”

“I came all the way from the Western Region to Primordial Ancient City. I’ve seen bandits in the Desert Tribes ravage villages. I drew my sword then, for justice. I’ve seen rogue cultivators in the Mercenary Halls fight to the death over a single technique scroll. I understood then, behind pitiful desperation lies a harsh truth: weakness is a sin. I’ve seen deceit within sects, and innocent people die, fathers shielding their children with their backs.”

“Long ago, I told myself I would walk the emotionless sword path. But after all I’ve seen, I’ve come to understand: humans are not wood or stone, how can we be without emotion?”

“I can’t escape my own desires and emotions.”

As he finished speaking, Yan Buhui swung his sword.

Endless sword shadows roared through the air, tearing through the sky, sweeping across half the heavens with unstoppable force.

His sword aura crashed down, and Qin Feiming’s eyes sharpened. He raised his sword.

With a shout, his sword erupted with a brilliant radiance.

That sword light was wrapped in strands of gray mist, giving off a feeling of eternity, resilience, and indestructibility.

“That’s Qin Feiming’s Undying Sword Intent,” someone below murmured.

“They say it’s a derivative understanding he gained from the Eternal Sword God’s eternal sword intent.”

As the gray sword intent surged skyward, the two brilliant sword lights clashed.

The sky roared with wind and clouds. Blade auras surged across the heavens in waves.

A massive mushroom cloud bloomed high in the sky. Even the void itself seemed to tremble.

Ripples shook through the air.

A thunderous boom rang in everyone’s ears. The blinding lights of the clash gradually dimmed.

The crowd stared at the battlefield in awe.

Despite the intensity of the battle, the arena, framed by two towering ox horns, remained untouched.

It had borne the weight of two eras and survived the apocalyptic disasters of the Desolate Age.

And it still stood, unshaken.

In the arena, the two men stood face-to-face.

The sword waves they created whipped their robes and hair into a constant fluttering storm.

“You’re… impressive,” Qin Feiming said slowly after a long silence.

Then, crack!

His sword broke in half.

“His sword… it broke,” someone whispered in disbelief.

“Swords, too, have feelings,” Yan Buhui replied calmly.

At that moment, all four of his meridian gates were open, his aura belonging fully to the Desolate Meridian Realm.

His gaze was as sharp as his sword. He was the sword.

“You win,” Qin Feiming said with effort.

His words carried a trace of sadness, and relief.

“No. Get a new sword. Let’s fight again,” Yan Buhui shook his head.

“I was still a step behind,” Qin Feiming replied. “Even if we fought ten thousand more times, the result would be the same.”

“I became too fixated on the surface meaning of the words undying sword intent.”

“You win. You’ve earned the right to receive my master’s true inheritance.”

Even then, despite the inheritance of the Sword God being within his grasp, Yan Buhui’s expression remained calm from beginning to end.