At any time, maintaining a calm mind, diligently studying Formation, without slacking off.
Mo Hua closed his eyes and calmly started sketching Formations on the Taoist Stele in the Sea of Consciousness…
…
And before this.
At the moment when Mo Hua took out the Broken Sword, a trace of Cause and Effect aura had already spread out.
In the back mountain Sword Tomb, an old man with a full head of white hair and a long beard suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils trembling.
“Xuan Er…”
“How can there be Xuan Er’s aura within the Taixu Gate?”
He released his Divine Sense, his powerful Divine Thought spreading in an extremely subtle manner, sweeping across the entire Taixu Mountain Range, seeking the source of this aura.
But he was not what he used to be, his Divine Sense severely damaged. Suddenly using it caused needle-like pain.
Though his Divine Sense spread out, he searched very slowly.
Meanwhile, the aura of “Xuan Er” grew stronger.
It seemed someone was touching Xuan Er’s Cause and Effect, inferring something.
“Who…”
The old man’s heart tightened, continuing to trace with his Divine Sense, but just when he was about to sense the source of the aura, everything disappeared again.
Completely vanished.
As if someone deliberately hid it.
And hid it in a place neither within the state boundary nor within Cause and Effect.
The old man wore an angry expression, then gradually calmed down.
Inside, he took note once again.
Suddenly, a stabbing pain in his Divine Sense increased, and he heard a demonic hum beside his ear.
The old man’s gaze sharpened, immediately withdrawing his Divine Sense, gathering all his aura, holding his breath and concentrating, controlling himself and guarding his heart.
After a long time, the demonic hum subsided, and his Divine Sense no longer chaotic.
Only then did the old man slowly open his eyes, but his expression was weary, as if he had aged a little more.
He was all alone, looking around, gazing at the countless rusted Broken Swords in the Sword Tomb, and the withered bones buried within.
These swords once shone brightly.
These people, once were his junior brothers, senior brothers, and even mentors.
And Xuan Er was the last Sword Dao successor upon whom he pinned his deepest hopes amidst reluctance and despair.
But he was wrong.
He shouldn’t have passed it down…
The junior brothers, senior brothers, and mentors, their Broken Swords, their dead corpses can at least be buried in this Sword Tomb to keep him company in his old age.
But Xuan Er, his remains are gone, even his sword is nowhere to be found…
The old man’s silhouette unconsciously hunched, bringing a sense of desolation.
A bitter voice echoed lowly in the Sword Tomb:
“Is it truly… to be severed…”