Chu Yang sighed, shook his head, and said:
"Let me ask you, what is the most basic difference in weapon grades?"
Han Feng tilted his head in thought. He had heard his father mention this before, so he knew a thing or two.
"Weapon grades are ranked based on the resonance and tacit understanding with their owner. The lowest grade of magical tool is a weapon that anyone can wield, possessing not a shred of spiritual energy."
「Starting from the Spirit Artifact, a weapon can form a soul contract with its wielder. Well, it's pretty much like that, I suppose."
Guiyuan City was situated on the border after all, with very few knowledgeable people around, and whatever Han Tian knew was limited to this.
Chu Yang supported his forehead, looking completely speechless.
"You don't even know this!"
"Listen up, I am going to enlighten you!"
"Just as you said a moment ago, ordinary magical tools are indeed like that, but things change starting from the Spirit Artifact. Now, do you know why a Spirit Artifact possesses a trace of spiritual energy that magical tools lack?"
Han Feng shook his head, looking completely blank.
Chu Yang continued:
"The so-called Spirit Artifacts, and weapons of even higher grades, owe that trace of spiritual energy to their previous wielders."
"As the saying goes, every trade has its masters. For example, some people spend their entire lives cultivating the path of the sword, yet the weapon they wield is merely a basic magical tool. However, once sword cultivation reaches a certain realm, the wielder and the sword can become one."
"Spirit Artifacts and higher-grade weapons in this world are not something anyone can acquire. Many cultivators use only a basic magical tool their entire lives. When they reach the end of their natural lifespan or die untimely deaths, the spiritual energy remaining within the weapon nourishes it."
"A thousand years later, after the weapon develops a certain degree of sentience, it encounters an even stronger wielder, and the cycle repeats. Thus, the weapon's grade gradually increases."
"Once it reaches the Spirit Artifact tier and forms a contract with a wielder, it will upgrade according to the strength of the wielder's soul, all the way up to the highest grade: a supreme divine artifact."
Listening to this, Han Feng was completely bewildered, unable to snap out of it for a long time.
Chu Yang flicked two fingers downward, and with a soft cry of pain, two faint red bumps appeared on Han Feng's forehead.
"Are you listening to me?"
Chu Yang's expression turned stern and somewhat displeased.
Han Feng rubbed his reddened forehead and chuckled sheepishly.
"Of course I am. I was just thinking and summarizing!"
Pfft!
Chu Yang was almost angered to the point of vomiting blood by Han Feng.
Han Feng scratched his head and stood there grinning stupidly.
"Teacher, then what is the current grade of this sword?"
"Lower-grade magical tool!"
Chu Yang blurted out, a reply that completely dashed Han Feng's remaining illusions and sent him to rock bottom.
"What?!"
"Didn't you say it was a supreme divine artifact?"
Han Feng asked resentfully, looking utterly disgusted.
"When it formed a contract with me, it indeed was a supreme divine artifact, but I have already perished."
Chu Yang explained calmly. The Chu Yang of today was nothing more than a soul.
"So after talking for all this time, this is still just a broken sword!"
Han Feng had still held out hope, thinking he had struck gold, only to find out it was merely a blade of grass—common grass found everywhere.
"Hmph!"
Chu Yang wore a look of utter disdain, a mocking sound escaping the corner of his mouth.
"What do you know? This sword is completely different from ordinary magical tools; its grade adjusts to match the strength of its wielder. Since I have perished, it naturally looks like this."
Han Feng narrowed his eyes, his gaze full of speechlessness.
"However, if you want it to upgrade, you must first gain its acknowledgment. This sword has been my personal weapon since its birth; gaining its acknowledgment will not be an easy task."
"Then what should I do?"
Han Feng pressed on.
"Learn to wield it proficiently before talking about anything else."
With that, Chu Yang removed a spatial ring from his hand and tossed it to Han Feng.
Han Feng caught it in his hand, looking completely bewildered.
"This ring can be used for spatial storage. Put it on; from now on, I will hide within the ring."
With that, Chu Yang yawned and said with sleepy eyes:
"That's it for now. I'm sleepy and going to sleep. Remember, everything I've told you must not be leaked to anyone, or it will invite a fatal calamity."
As soon as he finished speaking, Chu Yang's soul dissipated, turning into wisps of blue smoke that entered the ring.
Looking at the ring in his hand, Han Feng was overjoyed. After all, spatial magical treasures were scarce within Guiyuan City, and he never imagined he would own one just like that.
After a brief moment of joy, Han Feng stared at the sword planted in the ground, gritted his teeth, and pulled it up.
"Damn it, this is heavy."
Since his room was ruined and no longer habitable, he certainly couldn't sleep out in the open!
Han Feng exerted all his strength just to strap the sword across his back.
With trembling steps, he had just walked out of the room when he saw Great Elder Han Yuan leading a group of people straight toward him.
After all, that bolt of lightning had been entirely too sudden, and it had actually struck Han Feng's roof.
Seeing Han Feng emerge, Han Yuan hurried forward, looked him up and down for a long time, and finally let out a sigh of relief as he said:
"Good thing you're all right, otherwise how could your father face the clan!"
After Han Feng lost his cultivation, Han Yuan was the only person other than Han Tian who had truly treated him well.
Han Feng kept Han Yuan's kindness firmly in his heart.
"Uncle, I am fine!"
Looking at the damaged roof, Han Yuan couldn't help muttering to himself, unable to figure out why the lightning had struck Han Feng's head with such pinpoint accuracy.
So he asked:
"How on earth did that lightning manage to strike you?"
Han Feng wore a helpless expression and joked:
"Maybe I swore some terrible oath in the past, and now I've been struck by five heavenly lightnings."
……
"You brat, you never take anything seriously."
Han Yuan poked Han Feng on the forehead and scolded him thoroughly.
Han Feng hurriedly begged for mercy, saying:
"Uncle, I was just joking with you."
"Oh right, Uncle, I must ask you to instruct the clan members to keep this matter strictly confidential!"
Han Feng wore a solemn expression, and after a moment, Han Yuan nodded slightly.
Han Feng walked into another room, laboriously unstrapped the long sword from his back, and placed it beside the bed.
Panting heavily, Han Feng stared at the sword and complained:
"So heavy! What a shame it's just a piece of iron. If it were gold, wouldn't I be rich?"
Han Feng examined the sword closely and discovered that its patterns were extremely mysterious, with the entire body exuding an arcane aura—a sensation that made Han Feng believe Chu Yang's words all the more.
Too many absurd things had happened tonight, many of which exceeded Han Feng's understanding. Yet it was precisely this inexplicable feeling that made him resolutely choose to trust Chu Yang.
After all, in this continent, strength was the sole standard by which everything was measured, something Han Feng had deeply experienced over the past year.
Clenching his fists tightly, Han Feng solidified his determination to become a strong cultivator.
Having tossed and turned for half the night, Han Feng was truly exhausted. He collapsed onto the bed and instantly drifted off into dreamland.
At this very moment, on a mountain peak in the center of the East Continent, a magnificent and peerless grand hall stood proudly atop the peak.
By the railing beside the grand hall, a warrior in white robes was gazing out across the East Continent, his hands involuntarily clenched into fists, teeth gritted, as an expression of bitter hatred flooded his face.
Then, the hatred on his face gradually faded, replaced by eerie, chilling laughter that made one's hair stand on end.
"A thousand years... it has finally appeared. Just wait, I will be coming for you very soon!"
The white-robed warrior flicked his sleeve and turned to re-enter the grand hall.