…….
Ten days had passed since Zilan started the process of inscribing Runes onto the blade. With hardly a wink of sleep during this time, he did not look good. His hair was ruffled up, his eyes bloodshot and for some strange reason he had bloody wounds on random parts of his body.
Zilan had initially intended to take it easy and not stress himself too much however, as he did more and more research the more potential he felt he could draw out from the Runes. It got to the point that his dissatisfaction had led to him ‘modifying’ a Rune to fit his needs.
The Runes were the code behind his programming and he had created a fairly interesting Rune that was sure to set his AI apart. In his madness though, Zilan did not stop. Once he was done with the runes, he moved on to enhancing the blades capabilities. This was not part of the plan he had come up with but a sudden inspiration compelled him to do so.
Looking at the current blade, it had lost its red lustre. It was now completely black with a mysterious dark mist occasionally escaping from it. Zilan casually held onto the blade before purposely brushing it against the walls of the training chamber. Like a hot knife through butter, it cut into the wall extremely easily.
It should be noted though that he had yet to take the blade out of its scabbard. Yes, its scabbard was that sharp and that lethal. In fact, Zilan had no intention of drawing the blade from its sheath. Not because he didn’t want to but because he couldn’t, not unless he expended quite a bit of resources and effort. Even Kifo, the person who it was designed for would be unable to draw it out unless he reached a certain proficiency in the Art of the Blade.
“If you’re able to draw this blade at first-touch, you can be the Boss from now on.” Said Zilan, smirking as he appreciated his creation.
In its scabbard it was already a devastating weapon. Should he ever draw it, the power he could potentially unleash was of at the level that Kifo would most likely not need another blade for a long time.
“Phew~ Now to infuse the Laws of Light, then I can rest.”
………..
Five days later,
Zilan dressed in his normal attire, groomed himself, and took one last long look at the training chamber before walking out.
“Kifo. Fujo.” He called out.
“Hmm….” Fujo heard Zilan’s call, surprising him. “I’m over here.” He was however too lazy to get up out of the cosy cushion by the fireplace.
“Where’s Kifo?” asked Zilan upon arriving downstairs.
Fujo’s eyes widened the instant he laid eyes upon Zilan. His outside appearance was pretty much the same but an invisible pressure was being exuded from his body, causing Fujo to stare in shock. The pressure was not of the suffocating variety, it instead felt more like an announcement of dominance.
This pressure was a by-product of Zilan interacting with and studying in a place meant for and built by Ancient Supreme Dragons. Even if the training areas were illusions, they still possessed qualities that separated them from normal illusions, hints of reality mixed in at every corner.
Of course, some of the pressure also came about as a result of his dedicated training and enlightenment.
“Um…yes Kifo.” Fujo quickly snapped out of his stupor however, he still could not help but blink a few times as he examined Zilan. “He’s also been training on and off. He should be out in a few minutes though once he senses you’ve come out.”
“Mm.” Zilan nodded. He then looked around and found that nothing within the house had changed since he went into closed-door cultivation, this was not the case for the world outside.
He calmly walked out of the house only to be greeted by the dangerously beautiful scenes of winter.
The snow was crystalline-white, covering seemingly every inch of the Purple Heart, Two Flames camp. The battering gusts of winter flew about and blew loudly. When they died, a grave yard like silence haunted the land. Haunting skies oversaw the land. It appeared somewhat depressing but to Zilan it was fitting and at the same time exquisite. Winter had smothered this land with its vice-like grip.
As a cultivator, normal weather changes didn’t really bother him. Even the fire in the living area that Fujo had nurtured was just symbolic. He was not cold, in truth even without his cultivation, as a Beast this kind of weather would still not affect him as much as it would humans.
Seeing Zilan just stand outside, Fujo asked, “Do you like Winter?”
“Not really, it brings back memories is all. Is it just me or does time seem to slow down in the cold?”
Fujo contemplated the question for a moment but ultimately couldn’t find an answer or rather he did want to say, “Yes, it’s just you.”
“You came out just in time for the Concealed Scripture Display. A week from now, its going to start. I can’t wait.” Stated Fujo, changing the subject.
‘A week from now. Just enough time to speak to my Disciples.’
It was at this time that Kifo came down from his chambers. His muscles looked more robust than before and his eyes were a shade darker compared to when Zilan saw him last. Upon laying eyes on Zilan, Kifo’s reaction was similar to Fujo’s however instead of shock a smile was plastered on his face.
“As expected, you’ve gotten even stronger.”
Zilan returned the smile. “I’m not the only one.”
“Anything new?”
Kifo didn’t need to think to understand what he was referring to. “They’ve been surprisingly quiet on their side, especially that young Master.”
“Hmm….not unexpected but still rather unusual.” Zilan was seriously pondering on the matter when he noticed Kifo’s striking glare and fidgeting body.
He didn’t know whether to laugh at him or pity him. “Here you go.”
With a light laugh he tossed the black blade towards Kifo. “Take care of it. The name of the blade is Hihi’s tooth.”
Kifo didn’t even stop to think about the weird name. He was completely enamoured by the look of the awe-inspiring dark blade he was holding in his hands.
“Mph..Eh?” It unsurprisingly didn’t take long for him to realise that he couldn’t draw it out of its scabbard.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, tears seemingly on the verge of falling from his face.
“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just not worthy yet.” Laughed Zilan. “But don’t worry, even sheathed that is not a weapon to take lightly.”
“How do I become worthy?” Ears drooping, he asked.
“Become a Master in the Art of the Blade.”
