Chapter Forty: A Sword Without the Slightest Killing Power

In my eyes, a sword that poses no harm to its wielder, nor to its enemies, has no reason to exist at all.

“Master, this sword…”

My gaze was fixed intently on the long sword in Zilian’s hand, its surface glowing with a gentle green light. I could hardly believe it. Was it possible that, three thousand years ago, during the battle between the demons and the immortals, he had slain Mo Meili with this utterly harmless sword?

Impossible! According to what the demons say, the previous Demon Lord was formidable—how could he have fallen to an utterly harmless jade sword? This… this would be an utter disgrace to our Demon Realm.

I shook my head and sighed, feeling somewhat ashamed to hail from the Demon Realm.

“What’s the matter? Do you not think highly of this sword?” Zilian suddenly asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him. His expression had darkened, hinting at displeasure—my heart skipped a beat with dread. Hastily, I shook my head and replied, “No, no, not at all. I think it’s wonderful—truly wonderful! This sword neither harms its wielder nor anyone else. It’s simply remarkable. There probably isn’t another sword under the heavens so powerful and so beautiful.”

I flattered Zilian shamelessly, my face calm and my heart steady, though I feared that, having only just become his disciple, I might be thrown out of the sect after only two days. That would be too pitiful.

When I finished, he said nothing. Unable to help myself, I glanced at him sideways, only to see his brows furrowed, his feelings unreadable.

“Naturally,” he said at last, nodding slightly. “The Heavenly Jade of the North is a rare stone, left behind thousands of years ago when Mother Earth, Nuwa, mended the heavens. Because the wind from the north blew fierce, a fragment fell to the mortal realm. The stone is brimming with spiritual power, and a sword forged from it is heavy with spiritual energy.”

A stone left behind when Nuwa mended the heavens? That certainly sounded precious and rare.

Surely Zilian wouldn’t be so idle as to present a useless sword to me and speak at length about it. Puzzled, I asked, “Master, since this sword does no harm to its wielder nor to others, what then is its power?”

At my question, a look of satisfaction flickered across his face. “I thought you would have little affection for the Shadow Moon Sword, but I did not expect you to be so curious about a true spirit sword.”

I forced a smile, “Heh… I’m quite fond of this sword, Master. If you were to bestow it upon me, it would be even better.” Inwardly, I mused, “Fond or not, it’s hardly my place to decide. You’re the one who decides. In order to please you, I can only say things I don’t quite believe myself.”

Zilian nodded. “The Shadow Moon may lack killing power, but it can protect its wielder in times of danger.”

“Protect its wielder?” I asked in surprise. “Could it be that there’s a sword spirit within the blade?”

As I spoke, I leaned in, staring closely at the softly glowing blade.

“Perhaps there really is one inside,” Zilian replied, with an ambiguous smile.

“How incredible,” I murmured, my eyes fixed longingly on the sword in his hand, wishing that, just as I’d hoped, he would hand the Shadow Moon Sword over to me in the next instant.