I fabricated myths to guide the revival of spiritual energy.

[Sword Tomb, the Path of Inquiry]

The wind stopped.

But this is more terrifying than the wind.

The air was as viscous as mercury, and with each step upward, one had to endure compression by dozens of times the force of gravity.

"Ugh..."

The burly man in the team, who had won the All-Army Fighting Championship three times in a row, suddenly knelt down when he reached the tenth step. His veins bulged all over his body, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like a fish out of water, his mouth wide open but unable to take a breath.

"I don't... I don't believe it..."

He tried to stand up by brute force. His muscles were strong enough to lift a 300-kilogram barbell, but the force was acting on his soul.

hum!

A broken sword, half-buried in the ground beside him, seemed to be enraged by his murderous aura and trembled violently.

An invisible sword intent swept out.

"puff!"

The burly man was struck as if by lightning, flying backward and crashing heavily out of the Black Rock District before losing consciousness.

"One person will be eliminated."

Zhao Feng, who was walking at the front, did not turn around. Blood was flowing from the corner of his mouth, from biting his lip.

He could feel that it wasn't just gravity.

There were thousands upon thousands of broken swords around, each radiating an emotion: sorrow, despair, slaughter, and resentment.

These emotions surged through his mind like a tidal wave.

He seemed to see an ancient battlefield, a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood. Countless soldiers in tattered armor, wielding dulled weapons, launched a desperate charge against the indescribable, terrifying black shadow in the sky.

"How can you say we have no clothes? We share the same robes with you..."

The auditory hallucination echoed in his ears.

"What era is this war from?"

Zhao Feng's vision began to blur. But he didn't stop.

As a special operations team leader and a soldier, his willpower had long been forged into something as hard as steel.

He didn't understand what "sword intent" meant, but he did understand what "fighting to the death without retreating" meant.

"If this is your obsession..."

Zhao Feng stared at the towering summit of Sword Mountain, roaring inwardly.

"I know better than you! Behind what we're protecting, there are countless homes lit up with light!"

boom!

Seemingly sensing the pure "protective" will in Zhao Feng's heart, a rusty iron sword stuck at his feet suddenly stopped trembling.

The resistance actually lessened a bit.

……

[Behind-the-scenes Director's Perspective]

"A promising talent."

Gu Qing, hiding in the shadows, looked at the faint crimson light emanating from Zhao Feng's body with admiration in his eyes.

[A high-intensity mental resonance was detected between the target person "Zhao Feng" and the scene.]

[Resonance Type: Guardian, Iron Will, Sacrifice.]

[Matching Inheritance: Geng Metal White Tiger Sha (Incomplete Version)]

"System, add some spice to it."

Despite the excruciating pain, Gu Qing mobilized another 200 points of faith power.

"Since he's a soldier, we should acknowledge him in a soldier's way. Show him a fragment of... a memory from 'The Great Wall Watchers'."

……

[The Path of Self-Reflection, Step Fifty]

Zhao Feng has reached his limit.

His consciousness was already somewhat scattered, and he was mechanically lifting his leg purely on instinct.

Just then, the world before his eyes changed.

No longer are there only black rocks and broken swords.

He found himself standing on a solitary beacon tower. All around him was endless darkness, and in that darkness, countless scarlet eyes were closing in.

On the beacon tower, a figure stands with its back to the viewer.

The man wore tattered iron armor, held a long, blunt-bladed sword, and was covered in arrows, yet he remained firmly in place, blocking the breach.

Who is that?

Zhao Feng tried to shout, but no sound came out.

The figure slowly turned around, revealing a face covered in blood, yet still smiling.

"Young man."

The ancient soldier looked at Zhao Feng, his voice echoing through the ages.

"Is Kyushu still there?"

At this moment, Zhao Feng was in tears.

A sense of tragic grandeur that transcended a thousand years pierced his heart.

He suddenly straightened his already hunched back and, with all his might, gave a standard modern military salute to the illusory figure.

"exist!!"

Zhao Feng roared, his voice hoarse and thunderous.

"May our land be safe and sound! May our nation be prosperous and our people at peace!!"

Clang—!

With that reply, the illusion shattered.

In the real world, a terrifying aura erupted from Zhao Feng's body.

[Inheritance Activation.]

Halfway up the mountain, a broken blade, its entire body a dark gold color, stuck in a crevice in the rocks, suddenly emitted an excited buzzing sound.

It sensed it.

That kind of soldierly, relentless fighting spirit that lasts until death.

"Whoosh!"

The broken blade was pulled out on its own, transforming into a golden streak of light that instantly traversed a hundred meters. Instead of piercing Zhao Feng, it hovered in front of him.

The broken blade was only half intact, covered in rust, but at the break point, it possessed a sharpness that was too intimidating to look at directly.

At the summit of Sword Mountain, that aged voice (the Sword Guardian NPC) rang out once more:

"This sword is named... 'Tiger Warrior'."

"I once fought alongside my lord in the Western Wilderness, slaying three thousand demons, before finally breaking."

"It doesn't like spineless people, nor does it like smart people. It only likes... fools."

"That fool who was willing to give his life for the vague and illusory 'nation'."

"Take it."

Zhao Feng stared at the broken blade hovering in front of him, his hand trembling as he reached out, covered in blood blisters.

The moment his fingertips touched the cold hilt of the sword.

boom!

A surge of incredibly violent metallic energy rushed into his meridians along his arm.

It was an excruciating pain, like having your bones scraped by a knife, but it was also the beginning of a complete transformation.

"Aaaaaah!!"

Zhao Feng roared to the sky, but this roar was no longer filled with pain, but with the majestic roar of a tiger and the cry of a dragon.

……

At the foot of the mountain

The remaining team members, including the young man holding the wooden sword, stared blankly at the scene.

Most of them stopped after taking twenty or thirty steps and could not go any further.

The young man carrying the wooden sword fared slightly better, reaching forty steps, but he lacked the intense killing intent emanating from him, thus failing to evoke a resonance from "Tiger Warrior".

"Captain...did it work?"

Someone muttered to themselves.

Zhao Feng gripped the broken blade tightly, looking as if he had been pulled from a pool of blood, but his eyes were brighter than ever before.

He slowly turned around and bowed deeply once again to the dark figure atop Sword Mountain.

"Thank you for bestowing the sword upon me, Senior!"

The sword guardian did not respond.

The black fog churned, and the path leading up the mountain began to slowly close.

"Today the destiny is over."

"Take your sword and get out of here."

"If you come again and don't bring enough blood from the demon beasts... this sword will cut off your head first."

……

[Temporary command post outside the Sword Tomb]

"They're out! They're out!"

When Zhao Feng walked out of the black fog area carrying the rusty broken blade, all the medics rushed up to him.

But before the stretcher could even get close, Zhao Feng waved his hand.

He refused to be helped up.

Despite being covered in blood, he walked with unusual steadiness.

The old general strode forward, his gaze falling on the broken blade.

Even from several meters away, the old general could feel the chilling, skin-piercing sensation emanating from the broken blade.

"Zhao Feng." The old general's voice trembled slightly. "This is..."

"Reporting, sir!"

Zhao Feng stood at attention and saluted.

Although weakened, his aura had completely changed. If he was once a sword hidden in its sheath, now he was a peerless, deadly weapon that had just seen blood.

"I have successfully completed my mission."

Zhao Feng raised the broken blade in his hand, his eyes flashing with fanaticism.

"Its name is 'Tiger Warrior'."

"It said...it had slain three thousand demons."

The old general looked at the weapon from the mythical era, and then at his beloved general who had undergone a complete transformation, and his eyes welled up with tears.

He knew that from that moment on, the Chinese army possessed its first sword capable of slaying gods.

……

[Late at night, somewhere in the desert]

Gu Qing wrapped himself in a sleeping bag and huddled behind a sand dune that was sheltered from the wind.

[The "Sword Tomb Trial" has concluded.]

[Gained Faith Points: 2800.]

[Rating: Perfect. You have successfully implanted the concept of "cultivation civilization" into the core of the state's coercive apparatus.]

"Cough cough... We've made a killing."

Gu Qing looked at the panel, but there was little joy on her face, only deep exhaustion.

He had just used up a lot of his mental energy to create that "illusion" for Zhao Feng. Now, he felt like there were countless needles pricking his brain.

He pulled out a handful of medicine from his pocket and swallowed it all, regardless of what kind it was.

"The first sword has been sent out."

"The seed has sprouted."

Gu Qing looked at the stars in the night sky.

"But that's not enough."

"A broken sword cannot save the world. Zhao Feng alone cannot stop the true 'great terror' that is about to descend."

He has to speed things up.

If the military has a tradition of "military strategists," what about the common people? What about the Taoist sects? Or even... those who walk in the darkness?

Gu Qing closed her eyes, her thoughts beginning to jump to the next script.

"The next stop... can't be this kind of hard-hitting battlefield anymore."

"It's time for something mysterious, eerie, and unpredictable."

His fingers gently drew a yin-yang symbol in the sand.

"Wudang Mountain? Or Longhu Mountain?"

"No... those places are too famous, they're easy targets."

Gu Qing's finger suddenly stopped and pointed in another direction on the map.

Southwest China, Miao region.

"Or perhaps... a 'ghost market' hidden deep in the mountains, forgotten by the world?"

The sandstorm drowned out his whispers.

The mastermind behind the creation of the "Sword Immortal Myth" fell into a deep sleep in the cold desert.

In his dream, the "golden age of cultivation" that he had created was gradually becoming a reality.