Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sword Aura

“Should we give it a name? The finest weapons all have names, like my Ink Plum Sword. The great clans possess some of the best mortal weapons, passing them down as heirlooms from generation to generation,” Mo Ling remarked. “And that’s only for mortal weapons. If you forge a weapon from the materials of a sea monster, it becomes a peerless treasure. If this armor made from the shell of a juvenile demon crab were placed in the martial world, it would surely spark a bloody storm.”

“That’s a great idea. Wang Hu, Yang You, why don’t you name this set of armor?” Ye Mo nodded in agreement.

“I’ve never been to school, so I’ll leave this to Brother Hu,” Yang You replied, shaking his head.

“This armor was crafted from the shell of a golden crab. Let’s call it the Golden Armor,” Wang Hu said, not bothering with modesty. After studying the gleaming golden armor for a moment, he came up with the name.

“Golden Armor? Excellent. Golden Armor it is—imposing and domineering!” Ye Mo repeated the name to himself with a smile. “There’s still some time before the end of the month. Tomorrow, we’ll start building a raft and stockpiling food. If we can’t survive on the island, we’ll use the raft to leave at once!”

“Build a raft to head out to sea? Brother Ye, why haven’t we left this deserted island sooner?”

“Without a map of the seas, even with a raft, we’d have no idea where to go in the vast ocean. Besides, we’d need a massive supply of food to last for months at sea, or we’d starve to death. The raft is a last-resort escape plan—only to be used if there’s no other choice!”

“At least here on the island, we have shelter. Once we’re adrift on the endless sea, with nothing but a solitary raft, our lives will be at the mercy of fate.”

Afterward, everyone returned to the cave and gradually drifted off to sleep.

The night passed uneventfully.

...

At dawn the next day, before the first light, Ye Mo followed his usual routine. He cut off a half-inch piece of dragon’s palm blood, placed it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

He felt a wave of heat rising in his abdomen.

Immediately, Ye Mo sat cross-legged and began to channel his energy, guiding each surge of heat into his meridians and bones, stimulating his marrow to generate new blood and strengthening the density of his vital energy.

More and more dense vital energy was refined into the essence of blood, and the radiance within his body became ever brighter.

The emergence of a glow from one’s vital energy signifies the transformation from ordinary vital force to its essence.

When a martial artist’s vital energy is wholly converted to its essence, it marks the peak of their cultivation. Reaching the ninth and final layer of body refinement is the ultimate limit for a warrior. At that point, one either stagnates, eventually succumbing to the passage of time—leaving behind only fleeting mentions in old, dusty chronicles—or takes another step forward, breaking through to become a legendary cultivator and extending their lifespan. Nearly all peak warriors strive to break their shackles and step onto the path of cultivation, but that breakthrough is incredibly rare—one in tens of thousands among mundane warriors.

“Since reaching the late stage of the warrior realm, my total vital energy has stopped increasing, but it feels different now. The power I gain from each circulation of my blood far surpasses what I’ve felt before. It seems my vital energy has reached the utmost density and is now starting to transform into its essence!”

Ye Mo recalled the Martial Codex of Wuguo, a handbook outlining the basics of body-tempering cultivation. It offered a concise overview of the martial path.

“The book says that once a warrior’s vital energy is dense enough to begin transforming into essence, they can even project their inner force through the blade or sword, creating blade aura, sword aura, or even a protective force field—a formidable power indeed.”

Ye Mo walked outside the cave camp to a spot near the edge of the forest, beside a tree about as thick as a bowl. He gripped his scabbard in his left hand and the hilt of his sword in his right.

“Vortex Slash!”

Ye Mo drew his sword in a flash, spinning his body and unleashing a sweeping strike in a single fluid motion.

At the same time, he infused all his energy into the Azure Edge Sword.

He drilled the move over and over.

A faint, cold gleam shot out from the sword’s tip, disappearing about an inch away from the blade.

He sheathed the Azure Edge Sword.

With a thunderous crash, the ancient tree toppled, the sound echoing through the woods.

“Sword aura! So it’s true—refining the body to a certain level really does let you unleash sword aura.”

Ye Mo’s heart surged with excitement.

Unfortunately, he had never practiced genuine internal arts, so his inner force was weak. This inch-long sword light was already his limit.

“My sword never touched that tree—the cold light extended about an inch from the tip! And I’ve only just entered the late stage of body refinement. The Codex says that at their peak, warriors can project sword aura a whole foot from the blade—now that is terrifying!”

With exhilaration, Ye Mo continued to practice the Wave-Cutting Technique.

The sound of the Azure Edge Sword whistling through wood and stone rang out by the forest and mountainside.

...

By noon, three logs as thick as bowls lay across the cave camp, and Mo Ling, Wang Hu, and Yang You sat nearby, gulping for breath.

“These spiritwoods are unbelievably tough. It took the three of us all morning just to cut down three! Imagine how many we’d need for a large raft,” Wang Hu said, wiping sweat from his brow, his tone full of exasperation.

Ordinary trees couldn’t withstand the battering of the waves—they were useless. Only spiritwood was sturdy enough for building a raft.

“With our skills, three in a morning is already impressive,” Mo Ling said, noticing Wang Hu’s discouragement and offering comfort.

“Brother Ye! He’s managed to produce sword aura?” Yang You exclaimed, staring in astonishment toward the distant forest.

“Sword aura?” Mo Ling and Wang Hu followed Yang You’s gaze and indeed saw Ye Mo practicing the Wave-Cutting Technique, with a faint, elusive white glow shimmering at the tip of the Azure Edge Sword.

“If only I could cultivate sword aura! In Donglai, I’d be a top-tier expert. Even if I couldn’t achieve immortality, I could at least become a martial officer in the court and enjoy wealth and honor,” Wang Hu said enviously.

He was only at the early stage of body refinement—far from the late stage, let alone projecting sword aura.

“A court martial officer is nothing compared to becoming a cultivator! If it were me, I’d do anything to pursue immortality,” Mo Ling replied with a laugh.