1985 The Second World! A Second Home! (3)
The scene shifted, and along the long street, various sword styles were handed down. The Nine Major Sword Techniques, the Eighteen Sword Forms, and the Three Thousand Sword Styles…

The scene shifted, and a young man, dressed in fresh attire and riding a spirited horse, held a three-foot sword. He stood against the strong and aided the weak, traversing the martial arts world…

The scene shifted, and he entered a dimensional space, searching for hidden treasures, slaying mutated beasts, vanquishing formidable foes, and cultivating his path…

The scene shifted, and atop the mountain peak, an isolated immortal stood, left with nothing but a sense of emptiness, unsure of where to go…

Even though he boasted dominance over the world, without friends or family, without attachment or support, he was like rootless waterweed, achieving something yet also achieving nothing.

“Home…”

“Where is home?”

Amidst endless confusion, he leaped forward.

The scene shifted, returning to a dilapidated gray courtyard from decades past.

Cobwebs hung high, a lantern’s remnants painted half the light, and within the courtyard lay an open coffin, void of a body.

“Is this… my home?”

A palpable sense of despair gripped every eye, prompting heads to bow in a collective gesture of powerlessness. “I’m sorry, I’ve lost all of you…”

At this point in the Second World, perpetual loneliness enveloped those spiritual cultivators who could not withstand the depths of such a mental state.

And those who barely managed to awaken, despite knowing the need to resist, were left with only confusion in their eyes, unsure of how to react.

“Home…”

Yu Lingdi closed his eyes, his eyelashes quivering as two lines of tears trickled down.

“Home…”

In the Azure Marsh, Five Decays of Heaven and Man struggled to rise, clutching his mask. He gazed upon the shimmering reflections in the water, drained of all his strength.

“Home…”

Atop the Fallen Abyss, Xu Xiaoshou raised his head and looked up at the sky.

“Spirit Awakening” triggered time and time again. He fell into oblivion each time but finally managed to glimpse the world before him.

It was not a hospital room.

It was not the Tiansang Spirit Palace.

It was a realm of pure blue sky, adorned with strands of white clouds, adrift and untethered.

“In my old age, loneliness is my sole companion. Where can one find a home…”

In the Blood World, Yan Wuse’s head lowered, and his Thunderstrike Spear vanished from his grasp.

He snapped back to awareness almost instantly, his pupils contracted as he prepared to resist.

Yet, just as a crimson light flashed in his eyes, Yan Wuse lost all color in his face. It finally dawned on him that something was off about his environment.

He clearly had the power to break free from the mind control of this sword, as Xiao Kongtong’s ability was evidently inadequate.

But why…

“Have I gone mad?”

“How foolish I’ve been, lingering in the Blood World.”

In a mere second, Yan Wuse was once again influenced, and pulled into the Second World.

The scene shifted, then shifted again, and again…

From endless confusion, to slaughter, to warfare, to fighting for belief, he pierced through realms, establishing a city within a realm.

At long last, the nine majestic city walls emerged from the earth like nine swords thrusting upward, their silhouettes illuminated beneath the silver moon. The figure that was projected on Yan Wuse had finally found his second purpose in life.
“What is home?”

“This is home!”

At the same moment, the Way of the Sword’s Power Upanishad Formation nearly engulfed the entirety of Abyss Island. Across the vast expanse of Abyss Island, a city materialized out of thin air, overlapping and intertwining.

The city walls were forged by swords, its streets were walked by ancient swordsmen.

A united multitude fragmented into countless smaller families, each with its own bond. When someone needed help, support came from all directions.

“I have a sword that requires everyone’s aid…”

In the Eastern Region’s Holy Sword Land, the Bazhun Realm.

At the Fringe Moon Immortal City, far beyond the dimensional space, everyone raised their heads as if catching a whisper in the wind. Then, they all raised their swords.

“Eldest Senior Brother, take this!”

“Eldest Senior Brother, I’m here to help!”

“Eldest Senior Brother, unsheathe your sword. We’ll forever be your backing!”

On the Abyss Island.

Yan Wuse’s spirit was instantly shattered, cast aside from this world, leaving him with immense solitude.

And on the other side, Xiao Kongtong raised his sword through the void!

Behind him, the Fringe Moon Immortal City materialized from illusion, fully embodying the essence of the Fantasy Sword Technique, turning fiction into reality!

A myriad of spirit swords ascended into the skies above Abyss Island, accompanied by numerous ancient swordsmen taking flight.

The endless sword energy amassed by the Fringe Moon Immortal City over decades converged upon Xiao Kongtong’s Kongtong Formless Sword.

“A demi-saint bows atop the Immortal City!”

Xiao Kongtong’s expression turned solemn as he swung the Kongtong Formless Sword.

From north to south, the Abyss Island spanned millions of miles, erupting in a deafening boom. A sword light tore through the air, leaving behind a rift that separated the island like a heavenly chasm.

That sword light pierced through time and space, cleaving Yan Wuse, who was just recovering from his shock, into two halves, sending forth a shower of blood blossoms.

The Abyss Island returned to silence, and before closing his eyes and collapsing, Xiao Kongtong murmured with a smile:

“The Second World…”

“A second home!”