Engrossed in the bitingly cold refining process of his sword embryo, Ai Hui had no idea how dangerous the situation outside was.
The sword embryo was entirely different from how it had been before.
The swords within spiralled in a tangle like two concentrated shoals of fishes. The odd thing was that each mini sword was shaped differently. Some were like the vast autumn waters, magnificent and cold; some were slightly bent like hooks or a crescent moon; some were blunt, as if eroded by wind and frost, while others had only half a blade and their tips were like a reverse fish hook…
Ai Hui had never seen so many differently shaped swords before.
When he placed his mind onto a certain mini sword, its profound essence came naturally to him like a creek that flowed across his heart and mind. His sword embryo was like a kaleidoscope that contained a myriad of exceptional sword manuals.
Ai Hui had never felt this satisfied.