Chapter 298 — The Blade of Forgetfulness

"No Sorrow?"

Shen Mu's heart stirred faintly. He looked again at the grain of the blade, but the two words "No Sorrow" were nowhere to be seen, as though the flowing veins he had glimpsed a moment ago had been a mere illusion. Yet it had not been an illusion. The words "No Sorrow" had truly appeared.

"This sword called No Sorrow—can it have something to do with the Land of No Sorrow?"

He sank into thought. Could the Sword of No Sorrow have come out of the Land of No Sorrow?

But why had it become a broken blade?

And why, when the broken blade met that nameless metal, had it been restored as of old?

All of it seemed fated by some hidden decree: that the broken Sword of No Sorrow should fall into the hands of the Golden Palace of Loulan; that the Heavenly Sage Sect should come by that metal; that Shen Mu should steal the broken blade from the Golden Palace of Loulan; that Shen Mu should bring the heaven-foreign metal into collision with the broken Sword of No Sorrow; that the Sword of No Sorrow should be made whole again!

Too many coincidences—which meant it was no coincidence at all, but some power that had contrived them.

"Sister Yunxiang, that metal came from beyond the heavens? When did it come?" Shen Mu asked.

Si Yunxiang, too, had been left gaping, too shaken by what had happened to gather her wits. After a moment she came back to herself and shot him a glare. "It came from beyond the heavens, yes, but exactly when, that I couldn't say. We'll have to ask my Old Ancestress to look into it. And don't call me Sister Yunxiang. You say it so fondly, I'd think the honey on your tongue was hiding a wish to do me in."

Shen Mu said, a little sheepishly, "Then let the Holy Maiden take the field, and look into the origins of this metal."

Si Yunxiang drew out that mirror and turned it twice; a mirror within the mirror appeared, and the Si family's Old Ancestress stood at the other end. Si Yunxiang put her question, and the Old Ancestress said in surprise, "Is there such a thing? Wait a moment, let me look. Divine metals of this kind are generally recorded in the archives."

Before long the Old Ancestress returned, a register in hand, and said, "This is a divine metal from beyond the heavens. It appeared sixteen years ago. The record says that in the winter of that year a divine light tore across the sky and fell into the Nether Valley. Disciples of the sect went to investigate, and dozens were killed or wounded; they picked up this divine metal and presented it to the treasury."

"Sixteen years ago?"

Shen Mu was slightly startled. Fifteen years had passed since Granny Zhu had found him; the divine metal that had mended the broken blade had appeared in the winter of sixteen years ago—very close to the time he himself had been found.

"Then were there any men of the Golden Palace of Loulan in the vicinity at the time?" Shen Mu asked hastily.

Shen Mu's heart surged. So that was it!

The broken blade and the divine metal both dated from sixteen years ago. The divine metal the Nether Demon Sect had obtained and the broken blade the Golden Palace had obtained were in truth parts of one whole, and only when the two treasures were brought together would they take their complete form!

The Nether Valley of the Desolate Ruins!

"I must go there and see it for myself!" he thought.

The Old Ancestress said, "The Nether Valley in the Duck's Tongue region is a fearsome place. Later the sect sent search parties several times, but the dangers within were too many, and they withdrew again without pressing deep."

Shen Mu thanked the old lady. Though Si Yunxiang was the Holy Maiden and the mistress of the Si family, it was this old lady who truly held the Si family in her hand, and her standing in the Nether Demon Sect was exceedingly high as well. She had once been the sect's Holy Maiden, and had later yielded the place to Granny Zhu.

Si Yunxiang put away the bronze mirror and glanced at the sword in his hand. "Grand Hierarch, that sword of yours..."

Shen Mu hastily tightened his grip on the Sword of No Sorrow and said warily, "This is the mother sword of the sword pellet. You can't have it."

Si Yunxiang burst out laughing. "I never said I wanted it. I only wondered—after so much time and effort, whether your sword pellet is finally forged."

"A sword pellet—the word 'pellet' means round. To join several thousand swords into a sphere demands extraordinary powers of calculation. The curve of the sword-hilts' base is a sphere divided into eight thousand parts, every part identical, precise to the faintest blur!"

Shen Mu said, with no small pride, "My calculations have always been excellent."

Ling Yuxiu and Si Yunxiang both pursed their lips.

Shen Mu laughed aloud, gripped the Sword of No Sorrow, and poured his vital qi into it. At once the mother sword and the other seven thousand nine hundred ninety-nine child swords resonated with one another; keen blades shrieked through the air, and in an instant the Directorate Foundry was ablaze with sword-light, whirling across the sky.

Shen Mu shook his sword, and countless streaks of sword-light came shrieking in; clang, clang, clang, they struck one another, and one after another the streaks of light winked out.

Shen Mu's face grew redder and redder. He gave a stifled grunt, his thighs trembling, his arms trembling too.

Suddenly the flagstones beneath his feet split into four and shattered, and both his shoes were crushed to powder.

More streaks of sword-light than could be counted came flying in; with a thunderous crash Shen Mu vanished, borne down into the earth, punching a great hole through the foundry floor!

Ling Yuxiu and Si Yunxiang, terrified beyond words, rushed forward crying, "Help! Someone come quickly!"

The other disciples of the Hall of Heavenly Crafts in the foundry hurried over. From beneath the ground came a rumbling, rumbling tremor; the sword pellet was so heavy that it pressed Shen Mu ever deeper, and by the sound of it he had already sunk three to five zhang into the earth.

The crowd was just about to dig him out when Shen Mu's muffled voice came from below: "I'm fine—the sword's too heavy. Stand clear!"

They scattered at once, and from the great hole countless flying swords came gushing up like a spring; eight thousand swords danced in the air, then ding-ding-ding drove into the ground, their hilts quivering without cease.

Shen Mu leaped from the hole and landed on both feet, though his legs still shook and his face was not a pretty sight.

He shook his sword again; shh, shh, shh, countless flying swords came flying in. This time, though, Shen Mu had learned his lesson: he stood atop the pile of dark iron blocks heaped in the foundry, points downward, and the eight thousand swords gathered together into a sphere of swords.

Just as he had said, the bases of so many sword-hilts could indeed be joined into one great sphere, a perfect sphere, its error no more than a blur.

Only, the sword pellet was unexpectedly large: a good eighteen or nineteen feet across.

"A sword pellet this big is a rare sight..." Ling Yuxiu circled the sphere of swords, looking up at it, and could not hold back a smile.

"Shrink!"

Shen Mu urged on his dharma power, and the huge sword pellet began to shrink by degrees. When it had shrunk to its utmost, it still measured three feet across.

Shen Mu's vital qi was driven to its limit, his face red with the strain, and still it would not shrink further.

In truth, each of his eight thousand flying swords had been forged so that it could shrink to the size of an inch, but there were so many of them that the sword pellet they formed was still immense.

"I haven't had time enough to forge them, and they still need to be nourished and tempered without cease. If I could refine them down to the fineness of silk thread, they would form a sword pellet the size of a pigeon's egg. Not yet, though. Fortunately, my swords have another form."