Chapter 202: The Heavy Sword Without Edge

Ancestor Tianqing’s expression subtly shifted as he fixed his gaze on Chen Fei.

Based on his performance in the Xianle Secret Realm, there was no doubt—Chen Fei truly had the potential to challenge the very peak of the Xuanhuang Continent! But potential was one thing. Over the years, Tianqing had seen countless prodigies—brilliant, dazzling talents. And yet, only a handful ever made it to the end.

Chen Fei’s face soon returned to calm. He glanced at the ancestor and smiled faintly. “Thank you for the advice, Ancestor. I understand.”

But Chen Fei wasn’t disheartened in the slightest—instead, his confidence burned even brighter.

The Void Heaven Cauldron and the Ten Thousand Dao Technique—they were his trump cards!

Forget the fact that the cauldron could absorb and transform various energies at will; even his cultivation method, the Ten Thousand Dao Technique, was only at its most superficial level. Chen Fei believed that once he reached the Dao Realm and began fusing powers into the Force of Dao, that would be when this cultivation art truly showed its strength.

This wasn’t just speculation either—he had proof. Even when cultivating contradictory attributes, his energy flowed smoothly and adapted to his intent effortlessly.

Currently, his Dao-level power might not be earth-shattering, but once his Dao Force fully formed, he could unleash scorching flames with one move and freezing ice the next. Never mind how powerful that was—just the sheer contradiction in attributes would be enough to overwhelm most cultivators.

Ancestor Tianqing looked at Chen Fei with some surprise. In the young man’s eyes, he saw a glimpse of his younger self—unyielding and absolutely self-assured.

“This is a greatsword I found in an ancient ruin.” With a flip of his hand, Tianqing produced what looked like a massive lump of iron.

Chen Fei eyed it strangely. A greatsword? That thing looked more like a bludgeon than a blade.

“A sword with no edge, forged not for elegance but for greatness,” Tianqing said with a smile, clearly catching Chen Fei’s thoughts. “It may not be useful to others—but to you, it’s different.”

He added, “Those delicate spirit-forged blades in the treasure vault can’t withstand the impact of your rune-marked strikes. But this one can.”

With that, he tossed the massive sword toward Chen Fei.

Chen Fei’s eyes lit up. Ever since learning how to fuse rune marks into weapons, he had treated valuable spirit weapons as consumables. If this sword could endure that pressure, it’d save him a fortune.

Delighted, he reached out to catch it—only for his face to turn bright red the moment his hand touched the sword.

Clang!

Chen Fei gritted his teeth and used all his strength just to stop the sword from fully falling—yet its other end still crashed heavily into the ground!

Even the ancient divine stone flooring of the Cloud Summit Palace cracked beneath the impact. Just how heavy was this thing?

“Wielding this sword is no easy feat. I also found a body-refining manual along with it. Take it too.” Tianqing tossed over a jade scroll. “Also, the spiritual energy here is denser. Train here for a while before you leave.”

Tianqing wasn’t trying to embarrass him. The powerful aura of the palace, combined with the manual, would help Chen Fei quickly adapt and master his physical strength—at least enough to walk out with the sword on his back.

“Thank you, Ancestor,” Chen Fei said seriously, staring at the sword in front of him, awe flashing in his eyes.

This thing was absurd.

It looked more like a slab of metal with a handle—like a door panel rather than a weapon. Two ancient characters were engraved on it in archaic seal script: Wufeng (“No Edge”).

To be honest, if it hadn’t come from Tianqing’s hand, anyone who saw it would’ve assumed it was a failed product from a forge.

Hideous and cumbersome. Wearing this on his back had zero heroic flair.

But that wasn’t what mattered to Chen Fei.

His body had already fused with rune marks. Even without formal body-refining techniques, the strength he could unleash was far beyond that of normal cultivators.

Still, his current pose wasn’t exactly elegant—it looked more like he was bracing against a falling door.

He looked up at the sword hilt, a resolute gleam flashing in his eyes.

Gripping it tightly, Chen Fei slowly began to pull back.

The sword gradually tilted downward. During the process, he could hear his own bones and muscles creaking like grinding gears.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he held on, refusing to back down.

Just when he was about to reach his limit, a strange power suddenly flowed from the sword into his body—swiftly coursing through his meridians and banishing his fatigue in an instant.

“Huh?” Chen Fei’s eyes lit up.

He could now hold the sword with one hand—though the tip still touched the ground. But that alone was enough to surprise him.

He took a deep breath. As expected of a relic from the ancient immortals—this sword was anything but ordinary.

He dropped into a horse stance and gripped the sword again. This time, he noticed that the mysterious power from within the sword wasn’t just dispelling his exhaustion—it was steadily increasing his physical strength as well!

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

Still maintaining his stance, Chen Fei opened the jade scroll Tianqing gave him.

“Thousand Temperings Manual?” he muttered, eyes flashing with understanding.

This technique was brilliant—it treated the human body as raw material, refining it over and over again to condense the flesh and increase power.

What surprised him even more was that it required the heavy sword as part of the process.

The spiritual energy in the Cloud Summit Palace was indeed denser. With the help of the Void Heaven Cauldron, Chen Fei immersed himself in the training, honing his body without rest.

To outsiders, he looked like a statue—one hand gripping the massive sword, feet firmly planted in a horse stance—yet the swirling spiritual energy around him revealed the immense exertion behind his stillness.

Time passed.

Seven full days later, Chen Fei’s eyes suddenly snapped open. “It’s time.”

With a slight lift of his wrist, the sword tip finally rose from the ground.

A faint smile curved on his lips. His movements were still slow and clumsy, but he managed to sling the greatsword onto his back.

Turning toward the ancestor’s secluded chamber, he bowed deeply before walking toward the cave entrance.

Inside the hidden chamber, Tianqing watched the departing figure in slight astonishment.

“Seven days of continuous spiritual energy absorption… What kind of monstrous dantian does this kid have?” he murmured.

But then he smiled, shaking his head. His gaze fell on a token lying on the table in front of him.

“To be chosen by that one… he was never meant to be ordinary. Perhaps this is also a blessing for our Tianqing Holy Land.”

With that, he turned his hand over and picked up the token.

Engraved on it were four words:

Tianqing Young Lord.

This token had remained with him for many years—but perhaps now, it had finally found its rightful owner.