Northern Yan Chapter Fifteen: A Blessing in Disguise

For an entire day and night, Mo Hao lay sprawled on his bed, eyes half-open, wanting to sit up but finding his body weak and wracked with intense pain. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and suddenly sat up, nearly fainting from the agony. Hastily, he activated the Clear Yuan Technique, drawing in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. His magical power began to circulate as he grabbed a spirit stone; its energy slowly seeped into his body. The once brilliantly shining spirit stone gradually dimmed, and within a short while, it had turned into an ordinary stone.

Only then did Mo Hao sense something was amiss. Why hadn’t a single spirit stone fully restored his magical power? Even stranger, it replenished only half of it. Could it be that his cultivation had gone awry yesterday, leading to some internal mishap?

He took out another spirit stone, disregarding the pain, and intensified his absorption efforts. Only after the second stone's energy was completely depleted did he breathe easier, feeling his magical energy nearing saturation. To his astonishment, his meridians had expanded to twice their original size—a startling yet welcome development, likely the result of yesterday’s cultivation mishap.

He was grateful his meridians hadn’t ruptured; otherwise, he’d be nothing but a cold corpse by now. At this moment, Mo Hao felt his magical power rivaled that of a cultivator just entering the late stage. Casually, he cast a Water Element Technique and noticed not only had its power multiplied compared to before, but his energy replenished immediately after use, like a water bag simultaneously pouring out and refilling.

“With my magical power increased so much, I wonder if this is a blessing or a curse. Right, yesterday’s Cold Paulownia Sword…”

Recalling the strange occurrences with the Cold Paulownia Sword yesterday, Mo Hao hurriedly investigated his dantian and found the sword stable, showing no unusual signs.

“Could it have been a hallucination caused by yesterday’s cultivation mishap?”

He was puzzled, but as if in answer, the Cold Paulownia Sword suddenly floated before him. Realizing it was no illusion, Mo Hao acknowledged that the sword had helped vent the excess magical power and saved his life.

“But when my master gifted me this sword, he said it was just an ordinary flying sword forged from the core of a Cold Paulownia tree. Could there be some hidden secret?”

He channeled more magical energy into the sword, but still no change occurred. Puzzled, Mo Hao wondered if his guess was wrong.

Determined, he infused all his remaining magical power into the Cold Paulownia Sword. Beads of sweat the size of millet rolled down his forehead as he clenched his teeth.

Just as he was about to give up, exhausted, the sword suddenly flashed with blue light. Its tip shot toward Mo Hao’s forehead, stopping an inch away. Startled, he dared not move—after all, that was his forehead, the seat of his primordial soul. If the sword pierced in, he’d likely be dead.

Then, the sword’s body radiated a powerful blue glow, which surged toward his forehead.

Though startled, Mo Hao felt no danger. As the light entered his forehead, a cool, soothing sensation spread through him. Suddenly, words appeared in his mind, and he felt as though floating amidst a sea of characters. He quickly realized these words formed a cultivation manual and focused on reading them despite the ethereal sensation.

“Yanshin Sword Technique, Volume One.”

Upon finishing the first volume, Mo Hao knew this was a legacy from his master. The sword’s mechanism had triggered because his magical power had barely reached the late stage. When he opened his eyes, the sword’s glow before his forehead had dimmed significantly. After trembling slightly, it fell down.

Mo Hao injected the last of his magical power to absorb the sword into his dantian. Yet at that moment, his mind did not dwell on the manual but was filled with burning determination. Two words emerged clearly: “Advance.”

Unlike cultivators who ascend step by step through arduous training—Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul—magical weapons are forged at a fixed rank. Mo Hao had never heard of a magical weapon evolving or advancing. Yet now, the Cold Paulownia Sword in his dantian had clearly become a mid-grade magical weapon. He didn’t know what this meant, but anyone with sense would know it was good news.

He was so overjoyed he almost leapt. The value of a mid-grade magical weapon was immense; even selling everything he owned couldn’t buy one, let alone a flying sword capable of advancing. Now, with the remaining spirit stones, he could confidently purchase some spare supplies.

He retrieved the Hundred Treasures Scroll and flipped to the section on magical weapons. The highest rank recorded was mid-grade. Reflecting, he realized he lacked experience and would need to find Han Qing to arrange access to the library, lest ignorance lead to losses.

Returning his focus to the mid-grade weapon’s description, Mo Hao discovered that despite the slight difference in name, mid-grade weapons differed vastly from low-grade ones. Mid-grade weapons could store more magical power and required more stringent materials—not just ordinary spirit wood or spirit materials. For those at the Fasting stage, mid-grade weapons were unattainable. Even the most basic mid-grade weapon cost a hundred spirit stones. Using such a weapon at the Fasting stage was like wielding a sledgehammer for a nail; even those on the cusp of Foundation Establishment found their use challenging.

Only upon entering Foundation Establishment and possessing divine awareness could one fully wield a mid-grade weapon. Still, the Hundred Treasures Scroll offered a method—though it wouldn’t allow a Fasting-stage cultivator to fully unlock a mid-grade weapon’s potential, it enabled a level of intuitive control.

Mo Hao eagerly read on, but soon frowned—not because the method was difficult, but because the risk was too great for him. The technique described was called Blood Sacrifice: using one’s blood as a medium and heart as a conduit to connect with the weapon, achieving a pseudo unity of person and weapon. However, this came with a backlash risk, requiring regular blood offerings to nourish the weapon until Foundation Establishment mastery was achieved.

After a moment’s hesitation, Mo Hao resolutely drew the Cold Paulownia Sword and sliced his palm, tightly gripping it. Drops of fresh blood fell onto the sword, which seemed to absorb them as if alive, once again radiating a dazzling light.