Watching the black-and-white energy vortex swirling inside the room, the Sword God clicked his tongue. “Can that old man really pull it off? After over a decade of trust, the Sword Fairy he raised actually dares to turn her blade against him?”

“Whatever. This girl awakened an ability—but without reaching the Ninth Tier, she’s still just an ant.”

“I’d planned some mind games… but brute force works too, I suppose.”

He cracked his neck, calmly gripped the sword on the nearby rack, and in an instant, his entire aura shifted. Profound, unfathomable sword intent rippled around him.

With confident ease, he slashed upward—certain this strike would block Nan Mengling’s attack.

Whirr—!

Snap—!

The moment his blade clashed with the black-and-white sword energy, his pupils snapped tight.

His sword had shattered clean in half.

He was a top-tier ancient martial swordsman—his blade, wrapped in sword intent, shouldn’t break unless…

—the enemy possessed overwhelming power.

“A Ninth Tier ability?!”

His expression twisted. He leaped back, reaching for another sword.

But a surge of energy erupted behind him. Nan Mengling materialized like a death god. Her sword flashed—blood sprayed as the Sword God’s arm flew through the air.

“Truly Ninth Tier?!”

Witnessing her body dissolve into energy, he knew: only a Ninth Tier ability user could teleport and evade damage through elemental form—unless blessed with a uniquely rare power.

A chill seized him. Yet strangely… no scream escaped his lips despite the severed limb.

Nan Mengling’s face remained icy. She raised her sword again.

“Mengling! Not even a shred of master-apprentice bond? Without me… that man would’ve toyed with you to death! Are you truly this ungrateful?”

He retreated with agile steps, voice cracking with urgency.

“You killed my father. You toyed with my mother until she died… You.”

Nan Mengling teleported behind him. Her blade pierced his abdomen. Blood misted the air.

“That wasn’t me! It was your master! I had nothing to do with it!”

His voice trembled, eyes locked on the descending sword. “Killing me changes nothing! It only makes revenge harder! After I’m gone, Shao Xiuqi becomes your enemy—he’s lord of City Four! A Ninth Tier ability user! We were allies!”

Her sword didn’t slow.

Trembling, he collapsed. “Spare me! If I die, the real Sword God goes mad! The world will drown in chaos! Now you might still scheme against him—but once he snaps? Impossible! Keep me alive… I can help you take him down!”

Zhou Jiuyu leaned against the wall, chuckling. “No wonder you’re allies. Even your dying words match.”

The Sword God’s pupils flickered. “Shao Xiuqi… is dead?”

Shock froze his face. He stared at the falling blade—unwillingness flashing in his eyes.

“Foolish girl, hold,” Zhou Jiuyu called. “I have questions.”

Nan Mengling gripped her sword, breath ragged—or rather, her heart was in turmoil.

But she stilled the blade.

Zhou turned to the “Sword God,” voice low. “You’re not him. Who are you? A disguise? Or truly identical? Same face, same swordsmanship—I don’t believe two people could be this alike.”

Teeth gritted, the man glanced at Nan Mengling’s frozen glare and the lethal gleam of her sword. He sighed. “We are one… yet two.”

“To explain: the Sword God’s ability is ‘Bestow Sentience’—granting consciousness to objects, letting them accumulate Spirit Energy. He gave it to his sword, but growth was too slow. So he scoured Sword God Mountain’s ancient texts and found a forbidden technique: ‘Desire Severance.’”

“He fused the technique with his ability. Sever one desire, bestow it upon an object—it manifests as an avatar, inheriting all his memories… including his swordsmanship.”

“One severed desire… and he gains a top-tier swordsman avatar.”

“And I… am the product of his first experiment. His lifelong regret.”

“He deemed lust useless. Severed it without hesitation. Bestowed it upon his sword… me.”

A twisted grin spread across his lips. “Together, we crushed every ancient martial sect—forging his title. But the moment he became Sword God… regret hit. Countless beauties—elegant daughters of clans, charming, pure, cute—all vied for his bed, his title, even just his shadow.”

“He saw women as conquests. Without lust, your mother still feared him. Even unable to perform… he clung to that hollow sense of dominance.”

Nan Mengling’s delicate nose wrinkled slightly.

Seeing her expression, he fell silent.

“Continue,” she said, taking a slow breath.

“He felt nothing at first… until he took those ‘willing’ young ladies to bed. They smiled to his face, whispered behind his back: ‘Strong? Still a cripple.’ He heard every word.”

“Only then did he realize what he’d lost.”

“But when he tried to reclaim me… I had my own will.”

“I’m my own person. Why obey his summons? He couldn’t force me back. Kill me? His lust vanishes forever. So he exiled me here—to rule this ‘Little Sword God Mountain.’ He had no choice.”

“He drowned in shame and rage… until even your mother wrinkled her nose sharing his bed. Enraged, he threw her to another man. And guess what?”

“He felt a flicker. A remnant of lust—buried deep, awakened only by extreme shame.”

His smirk widened. “Thus was born this sanctimonious Sword God—a cuckold! Jealous of *me*! Because *I* could have his women… while he could not. We were once one soul…”

“You should’ve seen his face that day. Like he’d eaten shit. Absolutely priceless.”