The calamity of North Peak had faded into the winds of time. A year and a half had slipped by unnoticed.

During this period, the cultivation world of Jin remained relatively quiet, engaged in on-again, off-again skirmishes with their old rivals in Yuan. The prestige of Jin's premier immortal sect had gradually waned; they now stood on nearly equal footing with the Wudang Immortal Sect, especially since the Huashan Immortal Sect had lost its supreme Grandmaster in Jin, and the struggle among the three sects had drained some of their strength.

The demons beneath the earth stirred restlessly, but they were firmly suppressed by the five great immortal sects. After discussing the major affairs, it was time to turn to the personal.

Lu Yuan had not been seen for this entire year and a half; he had not remained at North Peak but was traveling freely, not confined to Jin, but wandering into Qin as well—generally within this region, even venturing to other states. After all, the path of the wandering immortal hero was not geographically restricted.

The only place he avoided was Yuan, the enemy state; walking the hero's path there would be sheer madness. In these eighteen months, Lu Yuan had acquired an epithet.

The Drunken Sword Immortal! Indeed, Lu Yuan had not pursued the path of the wandering hero with extreme seriousness.

He drifted wherever fate took him, drinking whatever fine wine he found, intervening whenever he witnessed injustice, offering aid and support. In this manner, he traveled countless miles, consumed untold amounts of liquor, and assisted many people.

Whenever Lu Yuan rescued someone, he invariably held a wine gourd, appearing utterly inebriated, which is why they called him the Drunken Sword Immortal. The title, Drunken Sword Immortal Lu Yuan, had firmly cemented itself in the annals of reputation.

However, very few people knew Lu Yuan’s actual whereabouts. ...

Within a cultivator’s manor situated precisely where the territories of Qin and Jin met. Here lay the Li Family Estate, which had somehow relocated to this spot and taken root.

The cultivation method of the Li Family Estate was the Earth Transformation Primal Quintessence Art, considered a second-rate technique. One shouldn't assume that first-rate techniques like those at Huashan were common; in a backwater like this, possessing a second-rate method was already quite remarkable.

On this day, the members of the Li Family Estate were either dead or wounded; many had perished. Those still breathing were bound by ropes woven from Xuan Ni Hemp.

Once tied to a person, these ropes adhered tightly, shrinking when the body contracted and resisting expansion when the body swelled; they were incredibly resilient and difficult to snap, and once bound, a searing pain would transmit through them. Standing in the center was a short, stout man, grinning with a lewd expression.

This individual was a heretical cultivator from the wicked path, known as the Nine Ghost Blood Demon, Yu Zijin, who had picked up some techniques from the Blood Sword Sect and was moderately renowned among the wicked sects. “Why, Nine Ghost Blood Demon, why have you captured all of us from the Li Family Estate?

None of us have ever offended you.” The bound patriarch of the Li Family Estate shouted. “Why?

Because I need this fragment of the Blood Cloud Grand Technique, hahahaha! It took me immense effort to acquire even a fragment of the Blood Cloud Grand Technique.

Training this technique requires a significant amount of cultivators’ fresh blood—naturally, I captured you!” Yu Zijin cackled sinisterly. “You, you heretical fiend!

You capture us merely because we are cultivating? Are you not afraid of the righteous path?” “The righteous path?

What a joke.” Yu Zijin sneered, “This place is the borderland shared by the two states of Qin and Jin, where virtually no one bothers to govern. Oh, yes, there is one governing righteous immortal sect, the Iron Sword Sect, a mid-tier sect.

But in these times, the representative responsible for this area from the Iron Sword Sect has already accepted my bribes; why would they bother arresting me?” “In this region, I am heaven. I am the law.” “My word is divine decree, the ultimate reason.” “What does it matter if I kill people like you?” “There is no heavenly justice, no righteousness in this world,” Yu Zijin roared with manic laughter.

“Is that so?” A lazy voice drifted through the air. Yu Zijin couldn't help but turn around, and upon seeing who it was, he relaxed.

Standing before the Li Family Estate was merely a young man dressed in green, appearing no older than his early twenties. How could someone of this stature possibly be his match?

“Righteousness exists within the mortal realm,” the youth in green raised his wine gourd and took a long drink. “Sometimes retribution is merely delayed, not denied.” The youth made a slight movement, drawing a longsword as bright as autumn water, flicked it casually, and the two wicked cultivators accompanying Yu Zijin were already cleaved down.

Yu Zijin saw that his followers, though cultivators at the Longevity Stage, were killed with a single strike. This youth, dressed in green, with a wine gourd—could it be...?

“The Drunken Sword Immortal, Lu Yuan.” “Precisely.” The young man in green nodded. “I told you, righteousness exists in the mortal realm; freedom blossoms everywhere.” The autumn-water-like longsword in his hand flashed, transforming into a streak of sword light that shot directly toward Yu Zijin.

The moment Yu Zijin heard the name Drunken Sword Immortal, he knew he was doomed, but reaction was impossible. The disparity between his strength and that of the Drunken Sword Immortal Lu Yuan was too vast.

This strike, swift as lightning, instantly severed his throat. A wicked cultivator met his end right there.

Lu Yuan shrugged. Over the past year and a half, although he hadn't intentionally sought out the hero's path, he had killed quite a few cultivators of the wicked path, so he paid it no mind.

With a flick of his hand, he summoned a thread of sword qi—a plume of misty white energy, wielded with extreme subtlety—that instantly freed everyone from the Li Family Estate. The people of the Li Family Estate naturally bowed to Lu Yuan, offering words of thanks for saving their lives.

The patriarch glanced at Lu Yuan, thinking to himself that fame did not exceed reality; the Drunken Sword Immortal was indeed the Drunken Sword Immortal—though extremely young, he was absolutely a formidable figure among the current generation of Sword Immortals. The young lady of the Li Family Estate, meanwhile, kept stealing glances at Lu Yuan.

If she caught him looking back, she would immediately blush and lower her gaze—her maiden heart had been stirred. Lu Yuan, however, had no time for these trifles at the moment.

He felt his Yangwu Sword trembling softly! Within that gentle vibration, he perceived the sword’s confirmation and acknowledgment of him.

A luster slid across the blade, moving neither quickly nor slowly, all of it falling clearly into Lu Yuan’s sight. A surge of ecstatic joy flashed through Lu Yuan’s mind—it was finally enough.

Through his intermittent acts of aiding others over the last eighteen months, he had finally earned the recognition of the Yangwu Sword. Now, both the Zhenyue Sword and the Yangwu Sword had acknowledged him.

Next, he could truly temper his spirit sword and reach the Eighth Level of the Longevity Realm! Intense joy flooded Lu Yuan’s heart.

After exchanging brief pleasantries with the Li family, Lu Yuan, already eager to depart, soared away on his sword. The people of the Li Family Estate could only sigh, reflecting on how a figure of the immortal hero path like the Drunken Sword Immortal helped without seeking reward, arriving swiftly and leaving even faster, leaving behind only the lingering affection of the Li young lady.

——————— Deep within the endless mountains bordering Qin and Jin, Lu Yuan stopped in a secluded valley. It was time to temper his spirit sword.

First, he summoned the Eternal Flame. Once this fire touched the ground, it ignited the earth.

There were no trees nearby, only yellow dust, yet it burned with a sizzling sound on the dust without spreading or expanding. Lu Yuan drew forth the Yangwu Sword and suspended it in the void, placing the Tai Bai Meteorite Iron nearby.

The Eternal Flame began to burn the Yangwu Sword. When the flame reached its zenith, Lu Yuan began to transmit his spirit essence into the Yangwu Sword.

Had he not gained the sword’s acknowledgment, the blade would never have accepted his spirit essence. But now, having been recognized, the Yangwu Sword began to readily absorb Lu Yuan’s spirit.

The spirit essence flowed out, and the luster on the Yangwu Sword grew brighter and brighter, until it resembled a gentle morning sun, radiating a palpable, pure righteousness. Almost done; this was the critical juncture.

Lu Yuan hesitated no longer and added the Tai Bai Meteorite Iron. After being burned by the Eternal Flame for a while, the iron immediately began to merge with the Yangwu Sword upon contact with its brilliant aura.

As the sword and the meteorite iron fused, a vortex formed around them, and the pristine Qing Qi (clear energy) of the heavens and earth began to pour into the center. The Eternal Flame grew fiercer.

If this flame were not actively used, it wouldn't extinguish easily; it could potentially last a thousand years, but for forging a spirit sword, its consumption rate was quite rapid. Lu Yuan dared not distract himself for an instant.

The Qing Qi, the Tai Bai Meteorite Iron, and the Yangwu Sword were merging. At this moment, Lu Yuan poured his spirit essence into the process continuously.

A massive amount of spirit essence was inputted, and the sword in his hand began to change according to Lu Yuan’s will and imagination. He did not know how long it took, but Lu Yuan began to feel slightly fatigued.

The Yangwu Spirit Sword gradually took shape. This spirit sword was slightly longer than the original blade, its surface shimmering with a flowing light that seemed imbued with sentience.

Both edges were now impossibly sharp—this was truly a spirit sword! A spirit sword possesses spirit!

Lu Yuan called out: “Return to sheath.” This time, he used neither magical power nor spirit essence; the Yangwu Spirit Sword automatically slipped back into its scabbard. In simple terms, having absorbed his spirit essence, the spirit sword possessed its own inherent will, and because his essence was input, an unprecedented thread of connection, a mutual imprint, formed between man and sword.

The advantage of a spirit sword was not merely its superior sharpness over a flying sword; due to the closer bond, more subtle and intricate sword techniques could be employed. It could be said that a cultivator at the Eighth Level of Longevity holding a spirit sword could easily defeat a cultivator at the Seventh Level of Longevity, and even five Seventh Level cultivators could not overcome a single Eighth Level cultivator.

After pausing briefly, Lu Yuan prepared to temper the next sword. The Zhenyue Sword required something different than the Yangwu Sword.

It did not need Qing Qi but rather the Metal Qi from the heavens and the Earthly Quintessence from the soil, combined with the Tai Bai Pot Iron, requiring an even greater volume of spirit essence. After working for nearly half a day, this second Zhenyue Spirit Sword was finally completed.

Lu Yuan gazed upon the second Zhenyue Spirit Sword. (Uh oh, the story of the North Peak Calamity concludes here, and the next plotline is about to begin, so I need to think carefully.

Updates will be slower these few days; I apologize to everyone.)RO