Jian Xiaolou's voice hung in the air, unanswered for a long time. The ancient voice never responded again. The group of four—Ying Zhizhen and the others—had harbored some doubts before, but now they were nearly certain: the mischievous one was indeed Mo Xiaohu.
Though they were hidden within the Void Formation, Mo Xiaohu had still managed to find them. His abilities were truly extraordinary.
The short-statured demon, who had almost been swayed earlier, snarled in frustration, "It's just a magical artifact! Why so cunning?"
The tall demon said, "Quick, tell us where you're sealed! We're here to rescue you!"
Shang Lu whispered a few words into a sound transmission talisman before removing the large immortal gourd strapped to his back. Muttering a brief incantation, the gourd shrank to just a foot long and fit snugly in his hand.
Jian Xiaolou, her expression solemn, urged, "Speak!"
"No!" Mo Xiaohu finally responded, his tone no longer ancient but youthful and sharp. "You shameless liars! Rescue me? Ha! You just want to steal me!"
Ying Zhizhen chuckled, amused by the response. "Mo Xiaohu, you're nothing but a magical artifact. Just because you've developed some sentience and learned to talk, don't go thinking you're human!"
The tall demon gave Ying Zhizhen a sidelong glance, exasperated. "Keep talking like that, and we'll never find him."
Shang Lu surveyed their surroundings carefully. "Mo Hu, you'd rather stay sealed here than come out with us?"
"At least being sealed here keeps my mind intact! Falling into your hands would mean losing my consciousness entirely!" Mo Xiaohu declared, his resolve strengthening as he glimpsed the large gourd in Shang Lu's grip.
Suppressing her annoyance, Jian Xiaolou tried a gentler approach. "Little Hu, your miasma keeps leaking out. If this continues, countless lives will be lost outside..."
Mo Xiaohu interrupted her coldly, "Let them all die! What's that to me?"
Jian Xiaolou's face darkened. Before arriving, the large gourd had warned her that Mo Xiaohu, after being tainted by years in demonic hands, was burdened with a heavy killing intent and no longer even recognized his elder brother. She was advised to show patience and retrieve him before attempting to reform him.
Holding back her frustration, she continued to coax him. "Little Hu, you should know you won't lose your consciousness if you stay with me—"
"I hate you!" Mo Xiaohu snapped again, cutting her off. "Staying lucid while being controlled by you? That's even worse!"
Jian Xiaolou finally lost her temper. "Fine! You'd better stay hidden forever! Let's see what happens when I catch you!"
"Hmph!"
"'Hmph' my foot! Do it again and see what happens!"
"Hmph! Hmph! Hmph! Hmph! Hmph!"
The tall demon rubbed his temples, his lips twitching with restrained amusement as he watched Jian Xiaolou bicker with Mo Xiaohu.
Quietly, Ying Zhizhen turned to Shang Lu. "Senior Brother Shang, can the large gourd sense anything?"
Shang Lu shook his head. "Nothing."
The group once again resorted to their sound transmission talismans.
Jian Xiaolou sheathed her Zhan Ye Sword and approached the uneven stone wall. Peeling off the talisman from the jade plaque, she pressed her palm against the wall. Earlier, when she traced the markings, Mo Xiaohu had reacted. If her calculations were correct, he should be inside this wall.
Gathering spiritual energy in her palm, she struck the wall. But instead of meeting resistance, her hand sank as if into thin air.
Suddenly, an unseen force gripped her wrist and yanked her through the wall.
She disappeared in an instant.
It looked as though the stone wall had swallowed her whole.
Ying Zhizhen turned pale with shock. "There's something strange about this wall!"
"Do we need your eyes to tell us that?" the tall demon muttered, having kept a close watch on Jian Xiaolou's actions. Stepping forward, he mimicked her movements and attacked the wall, vanishing shortly after.
Jian Xiaolou steadied herself on the other side, sensing an abundance of spiritual energy and only faint traces of miasma.
Still cautious, she placed a talisman on the wall before returning to the void formation.
The wall concealed a hidden space, a miniature world spanning only about ten zhang in length and width. It was densely filled with all kinds of swords, while at the center stood a massive stone statue of a sword, tilted within a pool. The statue bore four ancient characters: Tianwu Sword Pavilion.
Below, smaller inscriptions read:
"Sword Grave, Trespassers Will Die."
Circling to the back of the stone statue, Jian Xiaolou discovered more text, densely inscribed:
"In the 1,260,000th year of the Taizhen calendar..."
It recounted the history of the Tianwu Sword Sect, including the feats of its founding patriarch. The sect, a sword cultivation school in the Taizhen Realm of the Star Domain, had no record of its rank among other sects.
As Jian Xiaolou finished reading, a chill crept down her spine. They had all assumed that sealing Mo Xiaohu involved a mere artifact.
Who could have guessed it required an entire sword grave?
Unfortunately, Jian Xiaolou wasn't a sword cultivator. Otherwise, she could have easily claimed an ancient sword from this place.
Her Zhan Ye Sword buzzed in protest within her consciousness, expressing its dissatisfaction.
When the other four arrived, they too were stunned.
"A sword grave?!" Ying Zhizhen rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
What a shame—none of the five were sword cultivators.
Shang Lu and the short demon took out their sound transmission talismans, but not a sound emerged.
It seemed the sword grave had a unique restriction, isolating them from the outside world.
A glimmer of intrigue flashed in Shang Lu's eyes.
"Where's Mo Xiaohu?" the tall demon asked, ever focused.
"He should be in the sword grave. Let's search," Shang Lu replied.
And so, the five dispersed to comb through the area.
Their search lasted three days.
Most of the ancient swords here were mediocre, many corroded by Mo Xiaohu's demonic aura and stripped of their spiritual essence. The few exceptional ones had likely already been taken.
"A renowned sword only comes to life in the hands of its destined master. It seems we're not fated," the tall demon remarked.
"This sword looks decent," Jian Xiaolou pointed to a rusty sword in the corner of the pool.
The tall demon leaned closer. "How can you tell?"
"Because Mo Xiaohu is hiding beneath it." Jian Xiaolou smirked, already hearing the little gourd's nervous tongue-clicking. "Right, Little Hu? Feeling tormented? Want to come out and lick me? You say you hate me, but your body tells the truth!"
"Scram! Scram far away!" Mo Xiaohu roared, his voice echoing from beneath the sword.
The other three gathered. "Shall we pull it out?"
"Who'll do it?"
"All together."
The five formed a circle, broke the seal, and channeled spiritual energy into their palms, infusing it into the sword's hilt...