Chapter 150: Spiritually Awakened Artifacts?
Lower Realm – Eight Regions – Hundred Broken Mountains
After nearly two hours, the overwhelming silver radiance finally dimmed. The divine tide receded. Countless relics—each brimming with power—vanished once more into the ether.
The survivors who'd managed to cling to life during the onslaught let out long, trembling breaths.
But now… none of them rushed toward the mountain gate in search of fortune.
Instead, a bone-deep chill lingered in every soul.
The artifacts sealed within this place weren't blessings. They were calamities. Once they awakened and stirred as a tide, they could annihilate everything in their path. Nothing could stop them.
The aftermath was horrifying.
Blood soaked the shattered earth. Bones littered the ground in grotesque piles. The Hundred Broken Mountains resembled a gate to the underworld.
One desolate peak in particular had no trace of life. Not a single weed, not even a strand of moss remained. It was as though every speck of vitality had been erased.
Halfway up that mountain, a White Tiger cub lay dying. Its snowy fur was matted with blood.
Yet in its trembling claws, it clutched a divine herb pulsing with immense vitality.
Even on the verge of death, it hadn't consumed it. The divine herb, to the cub, was more precious than life itself.
Fortunately for the cub, most of the survivors nearby were too injured to move. Otherwise, it would've already been robbed—or devoured—by others or by savage beasts.
At that same moment, Shi Hao was enduring something far stranger than blood and steel.
Dark characters were branded across his forehead. Wisps of black mist curled from his temples.
An ancient, muddled voice whispered into his ears.
"My sword... My sword..."
Shi Hao grimaced.
"What are you yelling about, old ghost?" he barked.
"My sword... My sword..."
"I'll return it already! Shut up!"
"My sword... My sword..."
Shi Hao's patience snapped. "Can't you just say where it is? The Hundred Broken Mountains covers a hundred miles. Be specific!"
"Here... Here..."
"What do you mean 'here'? You senile bastard, that's no help!"
"Here... Here..."
"Help me, brother!"
Shi Hao turned to Shi Yi, exasperated.
Shi Yi raised a brow. "What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"
Then, without warning—
Darkness fell.
The heavens split open.
Countless Dual-Pupiled Eyes appeared across the sky. They all locked onto the illusory ghost behind Shi Hao.
A terrible, formless pressure fell from above. It wasn't tangible, yet it pressed upon the soul like an ocean on the chest.
In that instant—
The ghost regained its clarity.
It raised a hand, pointed in a direction, and rasped, "My sword lies that way. If you find it… I'll leave your body."
Then it slumped back into confusion, muttering again.
Shi Hao groaned. "You could've said that earlier, you decrepit wraith!"
Shi Yi glanced at him. "Brother, I can destroy this thing now if you want."
Shi Hao raised a hand. "Wait! Let's find the sword first. What if it's some supreme weapon?"
That was why he hadn't driven the spirit out already. He wanted to see if the sword was worth keeping.
"As long as you want it," Shi Yi replied.
His pupils shifted, and all the Dual-Pupiled Eyes in the sky vanished as quickly as they'd come.
"I'll go get the sword," Shi Hao announced, already dashing in the direction the ghost had pointed.
He didn't even summon his Nine-Headed Golden Lion. Clearly, he was eager.
In his mind, he imagined himself returning with a legendary blade in hand—gleaming, multicolored, capable of slicing mountains and splitting rivers.
But reality was… less kind.
An hour later, Shi Hao came trudging back looking like he'd rolled down a cliff.
In his hand, he held a broken, rust-covered sword.
It looked more like a twisted iron rod than a weapon. Pitted. Scarred. Oxidized beyond belief.
Honestly, if someone tossed it on the ground, no one would bother to pick it up.
Still, he had found one other thing—a small, translucent Little Pagoda, no taller than a finger.
Its craftsmanship was exquisite. Its aura subtle. Though Shi Hao had no idea what it did, it was clearly not ordinary.
He slumped beside Shi Yi.
"Brother, this sword's trash. I thought it'd be something incredible, but this… you couldn't even give this away." He tossed it aside like scrap.
Shi Yi raised a brow. "Trash?"
He picked it up, gave it a casual swing.
In that moment—
A terrifying blade aura erupted.
It blasted forward like a tidal wave, slicing a hundred-meter mountain clean in half.
The earth trembled. A deep ravine opened in the ground.
Shi Hao's jaw dropped.
That... had not happened when he tried.
He had swung the sword dozens of times before, and the best it ever did was clank against rocks.
Shi Yi explained simply: "The sword doesn't recognize you as its master. You can't wield its power yet."
Shi Hao stared, betrayed. "But I found it!"
Shi Yi shrugged. "The spirit inside the blade dares not defy my will."
Then, without interest, he handed it back. Its power wasn't the issue. Its appearance was just too ugly.
Shi Yi pursued elegance.
"Brother… what should I do now?"
Shi Hao now clung to the sword like a treasure.
Shi Yi answered, "Make it submit. Pour your power into it. Take ownership."
He stood, gave Shi Hao a reassuring pat, and turned his gaze to the tiny Little Pagoda nestled in Shi Hao's hair.
Shi Hao noticed. He pulled the pagoda free and handed it over.
"I found this on the way. If you want it, it's yours."
Shi Hao was many things—greedy, ambitious, driven—but never stingy with the people he called his own. Especially not with Shi Yi, who was more like a brother than blood.
Shi Yi shook his head.
"Keep it close. I have a feeling… that Little Pagoda may be stronger than the sword."
Shi Hao blinked.
"Really?"
Shi Yi nodded. "Really."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than—
The Little Pagoda flew from Shi Hao's palm, hovering in the air.
It circled Shi Yi like a curious child.
A voice echoed from within, surprised:
"Strange… how did you know I was extraordinary?"
A spiritually awakened artifact.
Even Shi Hao stood stunned.
The bystanders around them, including a few cultivators still nursing their wounds, glanced toward the True Water of Taiyi—a mythical treasure—and then back to the floating pagoda.
This might… actually surpass it.
After all, natural treasures were wondrous. But an artifact with sentience?
That was something else entirely.