Chapter 63 - Flying Swords
Cale stared at the massive pagoda island rising from the waters, and his initial sense of awe rapidly transformed into panic.
’What if there are people living in my mind realm? What if this entire island is populated?’
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. If he was going to be a cultivator of any worth, he couldn’t cower at the first sign of the unknown. Time to be a man and investigate.
Then he glanced down at himself.
"Oh... I’m still naked, heh."
With a casual snap of his fingers, a golden magic circle materialized beneath him, spiraling upward to envelope his entire form.
His soul armor materialized in resplendent majesty, layered robes of pristine white and deep obsidian silk adorned with intricate crimson accents that seemed to flow like living blood through the fabric.
The upper layers consisted of ornate pauldrons carved from solidified divine light, each bearing elaborate engravings of ancient runes that pulsed with soft luminescence, while the centerpiece bore an ornamental breastplate of silver-white radiance inlaid with delicate black patterns that spiraled outward like the very fabric of creation itself.
A flowing, ethereal cloak unfurled behind him—gossamer-thin yet indestructible, trailing wisps of white and silver energy as it moved, adorned with embroidered patterns that seemed to shift and flow like living things.
Crowning it all was an ornate crown-like circlet resting upon his brow, its spires gleaming with concentrated divine power, perfectly complementing his long white hair and heterochromatic gaze.
His Soulbound Sword, Noxis, materialized at his side, its blade now humming with increased durability and devastating attack power.
Fully armored and ready, Cale descended toward the island.
And oh well, the island was completely empty.
Cale floated through the pristine town, his armor glinting softly in the ethereal light. No people, no signs of habitation it was just a big grand architecture standing vacant like monuments to absence itself.
’Can I bring other people in here? Like maybe hide together’ he wondered aloud.
[Host cannot bring any other person into their mindspace. Others possessing stronger Divine Consciousness than host or alternative mindspace owners may attempt invasion.]
He massaged his forehead with a bitter laugh.
’Another threat from random powerful assholes right up my ass. Great isn’t it.’
Despite its emptiness, the island held potential. Empty houses could serve as storage, and if he manifested multiple soul bodies in the future, they could maintain this place.
The design itself resembled a painting come to life—artificial plants, fog that seemed to be evaporated qi itself, waterfalls cascading through impossible geometries.
’It would be Cale Town, keke.’
He drifted toward the central pagoda and stopped dead at its gate front.
Flanking the outer gate were two monumental Qilin statues carved from pure spiritual jade—their stag-like bodies encrusted with razor-sharp dragon scales, single horns pointing defiantly toward the heavens. Though frozen in stone, their lifelike glares radiated ancient, crushing pressure that made the surrounding air itself grow heavy.
He touched one, feeling energy still pulsing within it.
’What kind of person created this place? Such interesting creation techniques, it cannot be called just carpentry or sculpting at this point.’
Then a thought came to his mind, maybe this mindspace hadn’t been formed for him. He’d inherited it—inherited someone else’s inner sanctum, manifested within his own consciousness.
The clan emblem split across the pagoda’s main doors confirmed it. It was a jagged, multi-layered wings on either side, made of shadow framing a needle-blade piercing a bound celestial circle shaped like a half-moon.
Cale stepped inside.
Floor after floor revealed nothing, they were all empty chambers, abandoned rooms, hell there was no dust inside either. But on the topmost level, he found a crooked table in the center of a small room. Atop it sat a black book, its bamboo sheets crumbling with age.
He opened it carefully. There were quite a few basic Pill refinement techniques, hurried handwriting but flawless, at least it wasn’t a scam book. It was useful, though he’d planned to ask Rexa anyway.
And these felt like slightly tweaked techniques, who knows... maybe he could create some new techniques out of them in future.
On the final page, a strange notation caught his attention: "283, with an x ahead of it."
A count, perhaps. Failures marked with an x?
’Well, whatever. Not my problem for now.’
He tucked it into his spatial ring and settled into a nearby chair—dark as charcoal, nearly invisible in the room’s shadows. He got so much power, so many new abilities flooding his consciousness at once. The system seemed determined to make him impossibly strong, impossibly fast at that.
Then he remembered, he had indeed unlocked another new technique called Genesis before.
’Genesis. What exactly is that?’ he thought, turning the concept over in his mind. ’It must be the genesis part of my Supreme Nihility Chaos Genesis Scripture, right?’
[Affirmative. Host has unlocked the second phase. Genesis is creation itself. Through equivalent exchange, create by expending equal resources. Chaos is the universe’s fundamental property—all things begin and end within it. What is created from chaos inevitably returns to chaos.]
Cale’s eyes widened. ’So I can create swords from existence like those high-level cultivators?’
[Affirmative, provided host possesses sufficient understanding of a ’sword’s’ essence, creation, use and formation.]
A grin spread across his face. A wild, dangerous grin.
"Ke...kekek...KEKEKEKE...HAHAHAHA!"
His laughter echoed through the empty chamber like a madman’s prayer.
’It’s simple in theory, at least. Create swords with Genesis. Manipulate them using Divine Consciousness instead of qi or mana—making them impossible to seize from my control ever. And if I embed my own consciousness inside each blade?’ His breath came faster. ’I gain battle experience from every single one of them. The ones that survive will cultivate alongside me, albeit slowly.’
This was why he’d pursued the sword spiritual root so desperately.
Combined with his accumulated understanding from two lifetimes, he possessed enough foundational knowledge to resonate with any blade.
The root would amplify his connection, increase his control over flying swords exponentially.
But with Divine Consciousness doing the work instead of conventional force, each sword would possess its own awareness and counter opponents on their own will.
"An army of sentient blades. Each one knowing every technique I know and cultivating independently, hehe, even if they’re destroyed I will only suffer slight mental damage but I will also absorb the experience of that sword. Truly a devastating technique."
He leaned back in the dark chair, allowing himself a moment of satisfaction.
’Ahh, I’m too much of a genius, hehe.’