Chapter Twenty-Seven: Divine Weapon of Royal Rank

When Yang Nan returned to the underwater palace with the Sovereign Ring, he found the fish maiden and her brother leading a swarm of little demons, scavenging the cavern until not even the stone tables and benches remained—so thorough was their ransacking, it seemed they might carry the entire palace away. Seeing Yang Nan approach, the fish maiden greeted him gently, “Young master, the place has been cleared out. There are four hundred and thirty-three little demons willing to serve, all gathered inside awaiting your command.” The fish maiden, though not powerful, was born with a talent for managing demon soldiers; in no time, she had organized the palace’s demons and belongings with impeccable order.

Yang Nan raised the ring in his hand with a smile, “I’ve finished as well. Inside the ring lies a small lake; you can settle there, and even build a few little houses in the valley for your home.”

Delighted, the fish maiden exclaimed, “Young master, your powers are extraordinary! With such a wondrous treasure, we can move everything in right now.” Yang Nan activated the Sovereign Ring, releasing rays of black light that first absorbed the demon soldiers, then heaped up the belongings and tools. The ring's marvelous power arranged all the items neatly within its internal valley. Guided by the fish maiden, the demon soldiers built a small house, while those fond of water dove beneath the lake, constructing a palace at its bottom with stones.

Seeing the fish maiden assume her role as leader so naturally, Yang Nan felt at ease and left the internal affairs alone. The Crab General, who had been gone a long while, returned only at nightfall, accompanied by hundreds of demon soldiers. Witnessing Yang Nan’s thorough pillaging of the palace, the old crab marveled inwardly: This young master is truly ruthless, stripping the palace so clean—his skill rivals my own…

The Crab General brought plenty of goods, including a group of demon soldiers struggling to drag a massive, dark, gleaming iron pillar several yards long. Yang Nan chuckled to himself—was the old crab really so diligent, bringing even iron lumps? Did he expect him to forge swords from such crude metal?

Noticing Yang Nan eyeing the iron pillar, the Crab General’s dark face flushed faintly. “Young master, there’s little refined iron at the riverbed. I don’t know where this pillar came from; one year, a flood sent waves dozens of feet high, and when the waters receded, this was left in my palace. Since you’re in need of weapons, it’s perfect for forging arms.”

Yang Nan laughed, “Well done, old crab! You’re a true steward—this general’s title suits you.” The Crab General, pleased by the praise, had indeed acted to demonstrate his loyalty. As Yang Nan prepared to absorb the demon soldiers into the ring, his chest’s copper coin suddenly shot out seven-colored light, enveloping the iron pillar. Yang Nan was startled and delighted; the copper coin only reacted to treasures, as it had before, dragging him on spirit journeys and draining the massive jade stone within Green Brush Mountain.

After the battle with the flood dragon, it had exhausted its rainbow light and seemed dormant; now it stirred again—could this iron pillar be some kind of treasure? The Crab General shivered, recalling the coin’s oppressive aura, and didn’t wish to experience it again. The copper coin tugged Yang Nan to the group with the pillar; he ordered the demons to set it down. The iron pillar was so thick two people couldn’t encircle it, but dozens of little demons managed to heave it to the ground.

The copper coin unspooled its gold and jade threads and affixed itself to the pillar, emitting radiant light and absorbing its iron essence. Yang Nan knew it wouldn’t stop until it was satisfied, so he waited nearby. The demon soldiers, fascinated by the dazzling light, clustered around to watch. The Crab General, entranced, thought: My young master’s treasure is alive! If used as a weapon, wouldn’t it devastate an enemy in a single blow?

With that thought, his loyalty deepened further. Yang Nan ignored the crab’s awestruck expression. The copper coin, clinging to the iron pillar, emitted ever-stronger rainbow rays, drawing out a stream of black iron essence. The pillar gradually shrank, while the coin—like a primordial beast—showed no sign of satisfaction, no matter how much it consumed.

After hours, the pillar had dwindled to a fist-sized iron lump. The copper coin, finally sated, returned to Yang Nan’s chest. The Crab General exclaimed, “Good heavens, what an incredible treasure!”

Yang Nan picked up the remaining iron lump and stored it in his spatial ring. He smiled, “No need to worry, old crab; I’ll find a weaponsmith to forge arms for you.” He tried channeling his power into the copper coin, and found it now responded instantly, radiating light—so different from its previous lethargy.

Yang Nan realized the coin’s functions: first, its rainbow light shielded him, weighing down foes like a mountain and intimidating ghosts; second, it sought out treasures, automatically flying to absorb the essence of any large spiritual object. Though the rainbow light couldn’t last long, as long as it had spiritual treasures to absorb, its power would only grow.

While it couldn’t withstand attacks from a master like Bu Xu, it was no longer helpless against high-level cultivators.

Yang Nan, pleased to understand the treasure, absorbed the demon soldiers—including the Crab General—into the Sovereign Ring, letting them busy themselves within. He looked back at the emptied, sparkling palace, then ascended to the river’s surface.

Bu Xu, seeing him return only after nightfall, opened her eyes and asked coolly, “Is everything arranged?”

Yang Nan nodded, handing the Sovereign Ring to Chi Yang, the True Wind Method and the Bluewater Formula to Lian Die and the other woman. The Crab General, learning that his master needed demon soldiers trained in supreme demon techniques, began rigorous training in the ring. With Chi Yang and the other two guarding outside, there was no longer fear of disturbance. Die Yi shapeshifted to resemble Yang Nan, dealing with the shipmaster and Lord Yun. Everything seemed settled.

Bu Xu, seeing Yang Nan nod, suddenly asked, “The Immortal Yin-Yang Wheel is a martial sect’s divine art. Naturally, you must have a weapon. Where is yours?”

Yang Nan, astonished, replied, “Does one need a weapon to practice the technique? I haven’t entered Kunlun—how could I have a weapon?”

“To be a disciple of the martial sect, one must have a weapon. How else can you cultivate?” Bu Xu sighed, continuing, “Bring me the dragon horns from the flood dragon. I’ll make an exception for you.”

Yang Nan retrieved the dragon horn spear from the dragon's corpse, and pried off the newly formed green horn, handing both to Bu Xu. She sat silently, cradling the horns, then suddenly spat out a ball of golden light, which fused the horns together. Golden rays penetrated the horns, dissolving their form until they became a ball of green liquid. Bu Xu then commanded sharply, “Throw in the spiritual iron you’ve acquired!”

Yang Nan, jolted awake, quickly produced all the spiritual iron he’d obtained from Green Brush Mountain and the ring—only a dozen pieces, each glowing with various colors. Bu Xu pressed her fingers into a spell, and one by one, the spiritual iron leapt into the green liquid, merging with it. Yang Nan threw in everything, including the iron lump left by the copper coin, dragon scales, and feathers.

With these divine materials, the green liquid gradually turned white, then slowly black. When it thickened into ink-black, Bu Xu solemnly traced a spell, shaping the black liquid into a long weapon embryo.

“Give me your hand!” Bu Xu unceremoniously seized Yang Nan’s hand, her flawless jade fingers flicking lightly, opening countless tiny wounds that bled, saturating his palm.

“Grip this weapon, and imagine its form. Do not let your mind wander, or the weapon will turn out misshapen.” Bu Xu’s voice echoed in his ear. Yang Nan, understanding the rare opportunity, gripped the weapon, closed his eyes, and pondered the ideal shape.

‘What form should my weapon take?’ he wondered. ‘Sword? Blade? Spear? Halberd? None seem right…’ He deliberated, unable to decide, but recalled Bu Xu’s crescent-moon dragon weapon—versatile for both close combat and as a thrown weapon. The impression of Bu Xu wielding her coiled dragon weapon with such imposing air was vivid in his mind.

Under Yang Nan’s intent, the black liquid absorbed his blood, gradually curving into a crescent-moon shape.

The weapon resembled a coiled, horned black serpent, its scales raised, eyes cold and eerie, mouth agape with a sword-like tongue gleaming ominously—a sight to inspire dread.

Bu Xu, seeing Yang Nan’s weapon mimicked her coiled dragon, showed a flicker of surprise but remained expressionless, continuing to pour golden light to finalize its form.

Yang Nan felt a chill as if holding a block of eternal ice, the cold seeping to his soul. As he endured, the black serpent sigil on his wrist seemed to sense the blood, crawling into the weapon. When the sigil fully entered, the weapon’s aura shifted from bone-chilling cold to a cool, refreshing sensation. The black serpent sigil vanished from his wrist, replaced by a tiny serpent mark between his brows—the mark of a martial sect disciple.

“It’s done. Name your weapon. Martial sect disciples and their weapons are bound for life; though it hasn’t been shaped by a master smith, you can refine it further at Kunlun.” Bu Xu, exhausted by the forging, looked pale and weak.

Yang Nan felt profound gratitude. Though he hadn’t entered the sect, Bu Xu had gifted him several treasures, her generosity immense. It seemed she suffered from healing, but he had received far greater benefits!

To possess a weapon before entering the martial sect was rare indeed.

He named the black serpent weapon “Yin Corrosion,” for its first power was the freezing of souls—any struck by it, if their cultivation was weak, would have their spirit frozen and be unable to fight back—a truly terrifying ability.

The black serpent weapon was connected to Yang Nan’s mind and blood; wielding it, he felt it move as an extension of his will—far superior to any mortal blade or sword.

Within the weapon surged a sharp, peerless energy; if unleashed, it could cleave all things under heaven. Holding it, Yang Nan was filled with hope for the path of cultivation: ‘Perhaps this weapon will accompany me through the long years ahead…’

Bu Xu then explained the taboos of weapon use, making Yang Nan memorize them. Martial sect disciples forge one life-bound divine weapon, which progresses through five ranks and three grades: Law, King, Saint, Immortal, and God; each rank has upper, middle, and lower grades. Yin Corrosion was a middle King grade weapon. Unlike the artifact or spell sects, martial sect disciples have only one life-bound weapon, refining it throughout their lives to increase its rank and powers, pursuing the unity of self and weapon.

To strengthen the weapon’s sharpness, one must continually feed it spiritual materials; its power depends on the refinement and quality of these materials.

Ordinarily, a cultivator with an immortal weapon will likely become an immortal; one with a saint weapon will likely become a saint. Without upgrading one’s weapon, progress is impossible—the weapon is both lifeblood and vulnerability.

Divine weapons can manifest myriad powers, slaying enemies from afar with ease—but if damaged, the owner suffers as well. Every martial sect disciple seeks to forge the supreme divine weapon, but rare techniques and scarce spiritual materials mean most fail.

Forging a weapon requires the sect’s profound arts and celestial materials. The initial form of a disciple’s weapon remains unchanged, though its powers and rank can grow. One with an immortal weapon may not be immortal, but is likely to become so.

For someone like Yang Nan, who hadn’t even practiced the basic martial sect arts, it was only because of Bu Xu’s desperate healing that he could possess a weapon at all. Most disciples forge lower-rank weapons at entry, but Yang Nan, by sheer luck, gained a King grade weapon from the start.

However, lacking techniques and powers, he could only wield it for combat. Creating a King weapon had exhausted all his resources, showing how terrifying the requirements for each rank are. Ordinary Kunlun disciples would be fortunate to have a single weapon; Yang Nan, by fate, acquired a King grade weapon.

Understanding this, Yang Nan’s gratitude for Bu Xu deepened. Though she had her own motives, her gifts were weighty; the forging of his King weapon had further weakened her already injured vitality.