At the moment when the door of the ancestral temple by the river opened, the sword had already cut through the darkness and fallen into the Quanjinghe River. Chen Jing sat on a square black stone pedestal, which he had refined and polished to remove all the killing intent it contained. He reached out and grabbed the sword with one hand, and with his left hand, he gently stroked the body of the sword. The sword had a layer of misty air around it, which condensed but did not disperse, making it difficult for people to see the sword clearly. This mist was the sword's killing intent, formed from the killing intent in the black stone.

  Once the sword is tempered, it can prevent the sword's spiritual energy from dissipating too easily. The denser the spiritual energy of the sword, the greater its power, and the spiritual energy also has a nourishing effect on the sword, changing its material properties.

  On the black stone stage, a big red shrimp stood on the left and right, with a somewhat mysterious shell. The big red shrimp had a pair of protruding eyes that were full of excitement, apparently also an uneasy master.

  Cultivating a sword for a thousand years, suddenly transcending the mundane body to enter the pre-heavenly realm - such things only exist in legend. Yet it is precisely this elusive legend that causes many people who are devoted to swords to exhaust their minds and bodies, ultimately turning themselves into a pile of withered bones, leaving behind only a sword that has become ordinary iron over the years of yin and yang.

  Chen Jing, in his growing years, although there were many periods where he only remembered following the old sword guest to traverse thousands of mountains and rivers, without remembering any words from those scenes, still had some normal memories left behind. Otherwise, he would have thought that his past was just a dream. Among those normal memories, he and the old sword guest had once met a swordsman, someone who specialized in swordsmanship.

  That man had a head of white hair, his face was like withered wood, he was already old and couldn't go on, in Chen Jing's eyes he was a dying man, but the Old Sword Guest said he was that sword cultivator.

  Chen Jing didn't believe it, so the old swordsman took him to a high mountain. On the other side of the mountain sat an old man, who was indeed the sword cultivator. He sat quietly in the morning mist, gently stroking the blade with his hand, devout and serene.

  From a distance, Chen Jing could still see that his hand was like withered grass and wood, but the sword in his hand became brighter and brighter under his gentle touch.

  Suddenly, the sword in his hand burst forth with dazzling light, like a flash of lightning that flashed and disappeared into the distance. The old man remained seated and motionless, but before long, a white light streaked across the sky like a thunderbolt, and in an instant it arrived above the mountain where the old man was sitting.

  The white light was the disappearing sword, but on the sword was a head covered in blood, with eyes filled with terror and unwillingness. The old man placed the skull in front of him, wiped the blood off the sword, laid it horizontally on his knees, then looked up at the rising sun in the east.

  Lao Jianke told Chen Jing that he was dead, and Chen Jing had also guessed it in the moment he raised his head to look at the sunrise. The essence of his blood had long been merged into the sword, and his entire person was only living on a thought.

  Everything was so quiet, yet in Chen Jingxin's heart it was like a surging wave.

  "A lifetime is just for one sword, before death it can make the morning sun lose its color, but after death it will turn into mud. This is the fate of a swordsman in the world."

  Chen Jing said he wanted to go and bury the old man, but Lao Jianke said it was not necessary. He said, "With heaven and earth as his tomb, with his sword as his epitaph, and with the heads of his enemies as offerings, what better outcome could there be?"

  Every time Chen Jing thinks of the old man on the mountain top sacrificing his sword to kill the enemy, he feels a kind of palpitation. He doesn't know what kind of experience the old man had, nor does he know if he could do the same as the old man, dedicating his whole life just for that one sword.

  However, Chen Jing's method of offering the sword is different from that of the old man. The old man did not condense his spirit and form a sword aura, but instead infused his own vital energy into the sword, merging human and sword as one, with immense power. However, Chen Jing also aims to merge human and sword as one, only the path in between is different.

  Jianxia had already made his move, and it just so happened to be the time when Xul Ling was crossing the Thunder Tribulation. When he saw Qin Hu appear, he didn't even think before striking out. It wasn't until after he struck that he realized how resolute his heart was in killing Qin Hu. With a sword strike within three feet, it couldn't be considered an ambush, and in the end, he wasn't able to cut off the enemy's head. The sword almost got suppressed instead.

  He stretched out his hand into the river water, and a dark wooden sword hilt appeared in his hand. He saw his lips move slightly, and the clear light on the sword hilt wrapped around it, slowly shrinking and turning into a scabbard. Chen Jing inserted the sword into it and hung it at his waist.

  He patted the black stone slab under him, and the stone slab floated up like a black floating algae on the river surface, against the current, towards Luanyu Slope and Evil Dragon Gorge.

  When Chen Jing killed the evil dragon, the river god of the gorge naturally merged with his divine soul. The incantation in the gorge was also the same as the divine spell, and the "Jinghe Sacrifice to the River God" was no exception. Chen Jing guessed that all the spells cast by the river gods in the Jinghe River were the same, the only difference being the incantation. Only after obtaining the corresponding incantation and sacrificing to the river god could one quickly obtain the spiritual power of that section of the river.

  The Evil Dragon Gorge is a thirty-li gorge with a treacherous riverbed, rapid currents and ferocious waters.

  He sat at the other end, on top of the waterfall, watching the tens of meters of water rushing down, and his mood seemed to be affected a little, with the river's shadow surging in his mind, and the waves boiling.

  Take a deep breath, the river waves slightly stop, gather your mind and dive into that ancient well-like state. Close your eyes, and in your soul, the "Jing River Incantation" flows like the river waves. Looking at those characters, although you don't recognize them, but as long as you calm your mind and focus, you can loudly recite them in your soul's intention.

  The sound echoed in his soul, and when Chen Jing himself heard it, it was awkward and complex, mysterious and difficult to understand. As the sound appeared, the river water in the spiritual realm seemed to have a life of its own, surging up and down. When the voice was passionate, huge waves would rise, and when the voice was calm, the river surface would also be calm. The sound rose and fell, with an eerie and awkward tone, but he heard it as if in a dream, his heart already rising and falling with the waves, as if he had become a wave flower, controlled by that sound to dance.

  He was loudly reciting in his mind, but in reality he just sat quietly, opening and closing his mouth, apparently chanting a mantra, but no sound came out, and the river water in the river domain still flowed like before. It's just that to outsiders, he seemed like a stone in the river at this time, existing there since ancient times, without any life, as if merged with the river domain.

  From the Evil Dragon Gorge to the Embroidered Spring Bend, not only are there few intelligent demons, but even ordinary fish are scarce. They all died during Chen Jing's great battle with the river god of the Evil Dragon Gorge, and those who didn't die escaped far away.

  It took more than a month for fish to swim upstream from the lower reaches, and it wasn't until then that the number of fish in this section of the river from Xiu Spring Bend to Evil Dragon Gorge gradually increased. However, compared to the previous prosperity of fish, it will take at least two or three years.

  Qin Hu was ruthless and patient, when the sword returned to the river, he knew that even if he chased after it, he couldn't kill Chen Jing. After returning, he began to look for other ways. For those who had provoked him, only one person was still alive, that person was Cui Ping Shan Shen, now there was another Chen Jing. In his heart, Chen Jing must die. Two months ago, Chen Jing was just someone he didn't even bother to look at, but now he dared to draw his sword against him, and made him feel a sense of threat, which was hard for him to accept.

  At this time, he was sitting in the underground temple of the Land Temple, and the two little ghosts, Qingmian and Zuan, had already been killed by him. On the day when the River God Yinhua Rou was killed at the Evil Dragon Gorge, he returned to the Land Temple and learned that Chixue Ridge had been annexed by Cuiping Mountain God, and in a fit of anger, he refined the two little ghosts into his own Hundred Ghosts Offering Robe.

  He looked gloomy, staring at a point three inches in front of him. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed something from the ground, and his hand was holding a black box with a black symbol stuck to it, as if it had merged with the box. He thought quietly for a moment, without making any movement, and then he vanished into thin air like snow melting in water.

  In Junling Town, there is a Wu family. No one knows their origin, only that over 100 years ago, this family suddenly came to settle here. Since then, the sacrificial rituals in the surrounding areas have been handled by people from this family. However, no one has ever seen them reveal their magical powers. After a hundred years, this generation is sparse, with only Zhu Li and his son inheriting the ancestral skills.

  Ordinary people don't know about this family's specialty, but the local spirits know that the people in this family have the blood of a witch tribe, they just fell.

  It is said that when the Great Emperor of Heaven first built the Heavenly Court, he ordered the extermination of all witches in the world. Even those who had intermarried with humans and had mixed-blood offspring were killed, and only a few escaped. From then on, there was not a single true witch left in the world.

  This was the wizard Chen Jing had seen that day, who was now sitting under the lamp praying to a small wooden puppet. This was his daily homework. People with witch blood could not practice Qi. The witch tribe's famous refining technique that shook the world of Honghuang had been cut off, and they could only think of their ancestors' great divine power in swallowing the sky and spitting out the earth, and cherish the glorious years when their ancestors fought against the heavens and the earth.

  The candle flame flickered slightly, and suddenly a figure appeared under the lamp.

  He raised his head to take a look, and saw that the newcomer was wearing a black robe with a picture of one hundred ghosts presenting gifts on it. Looking at the other's face, although he was handsome, his eyes were gloomy.

  "See the Land God." Zhu Li stood up, knelt down and paid his respects. Although he had the pride of the Wu tribe in his heart, it was well hidden. Qin Hu held his hands behind his back and calmly accepted it. After Zhu Li finished paying his respects, he said, "I have something for you to do."

  The tone was not negotiable at all, it was completely an order from the superior to the inferior. Zhuli did not raise his head or stand up, and quickly replied: "Please instruct the Land God."

  "Find an excuse to worship the River God of Qu Chun Wan again, and throw this box of Soul Gu into the river."

  Zhu Li raised his head and looked at the black box that had appeared on Qin's hand, with a black symbol on it that gave him a shocking feeling. Although he couldn't practice Qi, the Wu tribe's method of refining the spirit had already been lost, but the Wu tribe's bloodline made him feel keenly aware, and his intuition told him that there was a powerful existence inside the black box.

  Moreover, the two words "soul gu" made him recall a sentence from his family's handed-down "Witch Tribe Notes": "The great witch sleeps, with heavenly talent and skill in soul gu, died at the hands of the human tribe Nan Luo."

  He didn't know who the Southern Fallen was, although he had seen this name more than once in "Wu Shou's Notes", but he had never heard of his legend, and it seemed that he had also died in that chaotic and vast primitive era.

  However, the three words "Shan Hun Gu" made him realize that the Wu tribe had such a technique. Since the inheritance was cut off, he had never cultivated any divine powers, and his eyes involuntarily looked at the black box with some fervor.

  Suddenly, he felt a killing intent and looked up to see the land god Qin Hu's eyes, cold and indifferent. He quickly lowered his head. In his ear, he heard Qin Hu say: "Do you know about Soul Gu?"

  Zhu Li fell silent for a moment, then spoke cautiously: "Xiao Wu heard it from his grandfather." In his heart, he had always believed that he was a witch and firmly believed that the witch tribe would reappear in the world.

  "Oh, what was said." His voice seemed to contain no emotional color, Zhu Li did not raise his head, but quickly said: "Grandfather once said that the soul can quietly enter the body along a person's spiritual energy, entwining around the soul, and controlling a person's thoughts."

  "Hmm, then you know how to summon this Soul Gu."

  "The witch tribe's inheritance has been severed, and Xiao Wu has no magical powers at all, nor can she perform soul summoning spells."

  Qin Hu slightly raised his chin, looking down at Zhu Li with a condescending gaze. He seemed to want to see through Zhu Li, to determine if he was telling the truth. After a moment, Qin Hu said: "You just need to hold one ceremony and this soul-wounding insect in the box will naturally come back to life after being offered sacrifices. None of this requires you to do anything, just perform the ritual as usual, then put the soul-wounding insect into the river."

  "Yes, Xiaowu will definitely do it. On the third day of next month is the God Festival, and Xiaowu will persuade the people of Heqian Village to hold a sacrifice."

  "Uh, there are still thirteen days, get ready."

  After hearing this, Zhi Li felt the land god in front of him disappear. He stood up and found a black wooden box on his bed. Although he knew that inside was a powerful Gu technique from the heyday of the witch tribe, he didn't dare to open it. He was certain that as soon as he opened it, Qin Hu would know, and he didn't dare to do so without permission. Although deep down, he had always believed that the witch tribe would reappear in the world, and at that time, all gods and cultivators would be under the feet of the great witch, while the land god and river god wouldn't even have the qualifications to crawl, but for now, he didn't dare show any disrespect.