221 Returning Things to Their Rightful Owner

The Duke's mansion, in the Everlasting Hall.

Humming——

In the center of the hall, a sword is enshrined. The sword radiates a purple aura and is enveloped in a cloud of mist. Within the mist, thousands of miles of landscape can be seen – this is the state-ruling Sword, tying the fate of the nation to its destiny.

At this moment, the purple aura on the sword splits open, revealing a startling blood stain. The thousand-mile landscape within it seems to be distorting as if it may collapse at any moment.

The sword constantly trembles, crying out with sorrow.

A hefty, elderly man dressed in brocade sits nearby, continuously channeling his Mana into the state-ruling Sword in vain.

Outside the Everlasting Hall, a figure stands in mid-air, dressed in Daoist robes, hair pinned up, with a simple long sword strapped to his back.

The old man finally speaks, his voice echoing out, "Leader Wen, why are you blocking my doorstep?"