Chapter Fifteen: The Black Blade of Ten Thousand Demons

Half an hour later, Zhu Qianqing finally emerged from the wooden door.

Not only had her cultivation advanced, but she also held a golden feather robe in her hands. The robe was as thin as silk, shimmering faintly, and even without wind, the hanging scarves seemed to float with a life of their own.

“Golden Cloud Robe!” Lin Bufan was startled at the sight of this treasure. He had seen an introduction to this artifact in the sect’s Immortal Repository. This was a Heaven-grade protective artifact, capable of withstanding a full-force strike from a Golden Core cultivator—a top-tier treasure. Even combined, the elders of the sect possessed only a handful of such Heaven-grade artifacts. He could scarcely believe that a disciple in the same stage as himself, merely at the Concentration Realm, could have such fortune.

No wonder the Ten Prison Tower had not seen a soul reach its summit in a thousand years. If not for Shen Wan's existence, who knew how much longer this trend would persist? The rule that each person could claim only one reward was also extravagantly generous.

Zhu Qianqing’s face glowed with a smile. Upon stepping outside, her first act was a deep bow to Tian Xuanzi. “Thank you, Ancestor, for bestowing this opportunity. I am unworthy of such favor.”

Truthfully, this admission of unworthiness came straight from her heart. Strictly speaking, the one she ought to thank most was Shen Wan, still snoring nearby. Without him, she would never have reached this place.

Tian Xuanzi smiled faintly. “Rules are rules. No matter how you arrived here—even if by luck—that too is a measure of your strength.” As he spoke, he cast an unconscious glance at the fellow sprawled in the corner.

Shen Wan scratched his nose.

Damn it...

Tian Xuanzi quickly withdrew his gaze. Even he, with his cultivated composure, felt the urge to go over and give that rascal a good beating.

As if sensing his inner thoughts, Zhu Qianqing awkwardly bowed again and said no more. She put away the Golden Cloud Robe and quietly stood beside Lin Bufan.

Lin Bufan held the Condensation Pill in his hand. Although surprised that Zhu Qianqing had obtained a Heaven-grade artifact, his astonishment was only mild. Everyone’s path was different, and so were their fortunes.

He glanced at Shen Wan, who had stolen his robe and was still sleeping soundly. He had a feeling his life would be changed by this person—but what kind of change, he dared not imagine.

At last, Tian Xuanzi sighed softly and walked slowly over to Shen Wan. He looked down at the boy, his gaze calm and unruffled. Then he raised his foot and delivered a hard kick to Shen Wan’s backside.

With a thud, Shen Wan was jolted upright from the ground. His face twisted, mouth open, clearly about to unleash a stream of curses.

But Tian Xuanzi, smiling gently, spoke with deliberate slowness, “It’s your damned turn now.”

The voice was tender—so very tender...

“Uh...” Shen Wan awoke.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zhu Qianqing standing beside Lin Bufan.

So the girl had already come out.

Understanding dawned, Shen Wan scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry, climbing the tower was exhausting—I must have nodded off. My apologies!”

He had indeed spent all his strength climbing up, and his body was long since depleted. He had merely meant to sit for a moment, but had unintentionally fallen asleep.

Looking at the smiling elder before him, whose smile was sharp as a blade, Shen Wan sensed a hint of danger.

The old man was angry?

He had no idea why, but now was not the time to provoke a monster who had lived for thousands of years.

He glanced at the wooden door beside him, then made a hasty escape, darting inside. “I’ll go in first—see you later!”

With those parting words, he vanished.

At last, the hall was quiet. For Tian Xuanzi, this peace felt... wonderful.

...

In the dark corridor, Shen Wan moved forward, feeling his way along the wall. Upon catching sight of a distant glimmer, his steps quickened.

A dazzling light washed over his face as he passed through the passage and entered the treasure hall.

At the center of the hall stood a towering tree, its leaves gold-colored—somewhat artificial in appearance. From its branches hung hundreds of vines, each tied to a variety of items.

Swords, spears, bows, shields, mystical talismans, pills, garments, masks. Many vines held boxes of various sizes, and some even dangled skeletons.

It was a rather eerie scene.

The anticipated splendor of gems and jade was entirely absent; it looked nothing like a treasure vault.

Shen Wan was disappointed.

But he thought again—given his immunity to spiritual energy, all those mystical effects were invisible to him. Why bother making himself uncomfortable?

After consoling himself, his mood improved.

Since he was here, he should accept it and stop overthinking. He began to examine the treasures suspended in mid-air.

Though the items were diverse, in his non-spiritual state, nearly all were useless to him.

He opened a few nearby boxes—the contents were unimpressive, so he quickly abandoned them.

The boxes higher up were out of reach.

He circled the tree twice, finding nothing suitable. His knowledge of this world was so limited—in truth, he knew nothing at all.

To him, all the items—regardless of material or age—were a complete mystery.

The more he looked, the less interested he became; Shen Wan was tempted to leave empty-handed.

But he reconsidered—if he walked out with nothing, wouldn’t that be disrespectful to the old man?

Fine, he’d pick something lightweight and easy to carry.

As he searched at random, his gaze caught a dark object nearby.

He turned to look—it was a massive black blade, nearly two meters long.

“Damn, this thing is cool—looks just like the one that guy carried in that reaper story.”

Imagine how awesome it would look slung across his back.

Without further thought, he untied the vine from the blade’s handle.

Despite its size, the blade was surprisingly light—he didn’t know what it was made of, but swinging it was effortless.

“Not bad—not bad! You’re the one!”

He grabbed a cloth strap from a nearby garment—apparently the belt—and tied it to the scabbard, then slung the blade over his back, fastening it in front with a quick knot.

He swung his body left and right—it was steady.

“Stylish!”

Shen Wan couldn’t see himself, but he could feel the cool aura radiating from within.

Satisfied, he nodded.

With the treasure chosen, there was no need to linger.

The giant black blade covered half his body. Its tip scraped the floor, sending sparks flying as Shen Wan strode boldly into the dark corridor.

This time, the passage was no longer dark—it was filled with sparks.

Soon, Shen Wan stepped out through the wooden door. Outside, Tian Xuanzi sat with closed eyes, meditating, while Lin Bufan and Zhu Qianqing were also seated cross-legged.

When the sound of the blade dragging across stone echoed, all three opened their eyes and looked toward the stone door.

They saw Shen Wan standing there, a stick as thick as a rolling pin protruding from his head, quite long—ah, it was the blade’s handle.

Lin Bufan was the first to rise and greet him. “Brother Shen, is this the treasure you obtained?”

Since Shen Wan carried the blade on his back, Lin Bufan couldn’t see it clearly, but when Shen Wan turned to show him, Lin Bufan’s mind buzzed.

“The Ten-Thousand Demon Black Blade... Another Heaven-grade divine artifact.”

Legend had it that in ancient times, the Demon Slayer ancestor wielded this blade to kill countless gods and demons. The souls of those slain were all devoured by the blade. With so many souls absorbed, the blade gradually developed a trace of evil consciousness.

Once the consciousness took root, it nearly became a sentient artifact, lacking only a step. If it had fully awakened, not even the Demon Slayer ancestor in the Soul Pill realm could suppress it, but would suffer fierce backlash.

Therefore, at the last moment, the ancestor spent most of his cultivation to forcibly erase the evil consciousness, sealing the blade and dispelling the myriad demon souls within.

After this, the Demon Slayer ancestor vanished; no one knew if he ascended or passed away. The blade was left behind, abandoned, never used again.

Tian Xuanzi, watching nearby, frowned slightly. After acquiring the blade, he had simply thrown it into the tower’s treasury. Although it was now a spent artifact, it remained a pinnacle Heaven-grade treasure, still ranking high among such artifacts.

But he knew that if a true prodigy entered the treasury, they would never choose this blade. Its reputation was too great, its power depleted—it was now nothing more than a decorative object.

Yet Shen Wan seemed quite pleased.

Seeing the others’ astonished looks, Shen Wan thought they were awed by his stylish appearance, making him all the more satisfied with the blade.

Lin Bufan was at a loss for words. Zhu Qianqing also examined the black blade, but felt it was an ordinary item, sensing nothing special about it.

As Shen Wan strutted in circles, showing off the blade, Tian Xuanzi’s pupils suddenly contracted—he recognized the strap tied around Shen Wan.

At last, he remembered.

That was the abdominal belt of the Heavenly Wolf Armor...

This brat—I swear, I’ll beat him to death!