Yin Long angled his sword and kicked off the ground, drawing a crimson-gold line through the night as he moved. The two elders he chose as his targets weren't too far from him, launching attack after attack as they aimed to protect the elder that currently held the key fragment they had protected for so long. They were grouped tightly with the rest of their sect, a defensive shell that would be hard to penetrate. But Yin Long wasn't nervous, his energy simply moved slightly, the law of Yin slithering through the night.

"You're nice and slippery so have at it."

The key fragment protected by the Swordsoul's Edge sect reacted to the law of Yin and broke free from their grasp, fleeing the protective circle they had quickly formed. Yin Long used his energy to control the path of the fragment, tossing it towards one of the six interlopers that were trying to steal it. The particular interloper he threw it to was the trident-wielding man that could slip in and out of the shadows.

As expected, the clustered members of the sect were forced to spread out as the fragment was ripped from their grasp. There were differences in their speed so they couldn't chase after the fragment in a unified mass, leaving Yin Long with plenty of space.

But they weren't fools, this was already the fourth time that Yin Long had plucked away the key fragment and tossed it towards someone else. He was directing the flow of the battle like a conductor and his golden sword was his baton, they would just get played by fools if they danced to his tune.

The man with the trident didn't reach for the falling key fragment and instead pulled back, it would be best to let someone else take the brunt of things if they were going to be played anyway. The sect members chasing after the fragment also acted differently, about half of them broke away and headed for the approaching Yin Long instead.

One of Yin Long's brows perked up at the scene, he honestly hadn't expected them to change their approach this quickly, not with their target right in front of them. But fine, if they wanted to change their approach then he would have to change the melody.

"I guess this is the limit of tempered greed. Alright, you can have it then."

Rather than say he changed the melody, it was probably better to say that he killed it altogether. The trace amount of energy he kept around the key fragment to control it vanished altogether, the small item hitting the ground with a crystal clear clink.

The sound was incredibly soft compared to the rest of the battle that surrounded it. But even so, that tiny sound grabbed everyone's attention, drew everyone's eyes. It just laid there quietly, the treasure this sect had protected for so many years, the key fragment that was needed to open the tomb that had been locked for far too long.

They looked at it a bit dumbly, disbelieving even. But before long, the man with the trident tested the waters, his shadow mixing with the dark night as it reached the fragment. And in front of everyone's eyes, the fragment quietly sank into the darkness, right into his grasp and protection. His eyes shot open wide and his body tensed, you could practically hear the thumping of his heart.

Shortly after, the man flickered and faded into the darkness, only a faint trace of rushing energy remaining to notify the world of his existence. There was no trick from Yin Long, no quick burst of energy to reclaim the key fragment, the man had been able to quickly and quietly snatch it and flee.

"Catch him!"

Li Zen's voice thundered through the night, her bronze hair tossing about wildly. She was the sect leader, and she would become the shame of the sect if she allowed their greatest treasure to be stolen during her reign. It wasn't just the sect disciples and elders that rushed out at her call, the other five interlopers also sprung into action. They came here to get their hands on that fragment, they had fought and even suffered wounds for it, they couldn't let it get away now.

But there was one who wasn't interested in the key, one who didn't chase after the fleeting trace of energy that spoke of the fleeing man. Yin Long rushed into the bosom of the two elders he had targeted, the two elders who were hastily trying to follow the orders of their leaders. His golden sword cut through the night, faint flickers of flame lingering in its trail as it cut towards the head of the first elder.

The elder hurriedly raised his blade, each move of his weapon drawing a persistent pale line through the air. But Yin Long's weapon vanished just as it was about to be blocked, reappearing on the opposite side of the man's head as it continued moving. The line drawn by the elder's sword moved like a whip, curling in front of the golden blade and blocking the unexpected attack. The other elder took this chance to rush in with his own weapon, it was best to take care of this obstacle now that he had a chance.

"You must be mad! What will you do if he escapes with 'your' prize?!"

The elder couldn't help but growl as he swung his sword down upon Yin Long's head. Yin Long had come here for that very key fragment, he was fighting them for that very key fragment. And yet he had tossed it away just like that, not even batting an eye at the possibility that the interloper might actually get away with it. But Yin Long simply smiled calmly, his smile filled with a shade of insanity visible to all but him.

"My prize is my skills, nothing more."

Yin Long's leg moved, a curved cyan sword leaving his soulsea and appearing in front of him. His knee touched the hilt of the sword and kicked it upwards, the wind twirling around it as it shot towards the second elder's descending blade. The two weapons collided and deflected each other, the cyan blade returning to Yin Long's soulsea after achieving its purpose.

Yin Long's left arm was out of commission right now, so tightly bandaged that he could forget about moving it. As such, he couldn't currently use the dual-wielding style he learned from Fang Yau, taking in two elders, who both had higher cultivation than him, in this state was really asking a bit much.

But even so, he smiled. Even so, his sword swung once more. This was how he learned, this was the path to heighten his skills. There was no point in an easy battle, no point in a crushing victory. Only in the struggle, only in the gruesome wounds and the spilt blood was there a point, only in them could he find the path carved by his blade.

The first elder hurriedly stepped back to avoid the blade that had suddenly appeared above him, it was just too close for him to move the pale line to block it. But still, he didn't forget to kick out with his left leg and slash out with his sword at the same time, extending the pale line that marked the path of his blade.

He had to step back to avoid the blow so his own sword wasn't in range, but the line it drew through the air was long enough to reach, and that was all he needed right now. And besides, he wasn't alone. His ally was well within range to attack Yin Long, in fact, his deflected sword was already slashing down again, drawing a similar pale line through the air.

But the youth in front of them, why did his smile still remain? Why did his smile still carry that tainted shade of madness? And most importantly, why did his eyes seem to not even be looking at them?

The descending golden sword vanished, it wouldn't strike its target anyway so what point was there in keeping it around? With the weight gone, Yin Long was free to move his one available arm a bit more freely, twist it just a bit faster. And sometimes, a bit was all you needed.

He swung his empty arm towards the incoming blade, a pitch-black sword leaving his soulsea and landing in his grasp. This blade was different from the swirling dark blade formed using Jin Wang's law of swallowing, it was completely still and dark, like a hole in reality. This sword was an empty stomach, a darkness that didn't allow the existence of anything but itself, it was devouring.

This was one of Yin Long's strongest swords, second only to the sword his teacher had helped him form, partly due to the law that formed it and partly due to the energy that fueled the law as the blade was formed. When it was first used, it only drew blood twice before it left Yin Long's hands, it never got to show what it really could do, not to the world and not to its master.

A few sections of the pale line hung in the air between the two blades that approached each other, some an attempt to block the sword while others were just remainders that hung about since the line was so long that it would take too long to move the entire thing. And Yin Long's sword cut through them all, passing through them like a hot knife through butter. The approaching sword was reached without any issue and the two blades collided, the black sword passing through the other blade without a single sound.

No, saying it passed through the line and the blade wasn't quite correct. It ate them. The law of swords that manifested the line, the sword to which the line was connected, the black blade ate them both to fill its empty stomach. It was a weapon formed from devouring, but above all that, it was a sword, a sword formed by Yin Long, by his soul. So it devoured, but what it devoured above all was swords. After all, what was the greatest light in Yin Long's soul, the brightest desire? A sword to reach the peak, a sword that reached the apex of creation, and then surpassed it. That was his desire, that was his soul. And as such, that was his sword.

Mo...re...

A soft and gruff voice reached Yin Long's ears, or perhaps it was better to say that it echoed out from within him. The voice came from the sword, the hungry blade in his grasp. The sword his teacher had helped him form also spoke to him when he first used it, but this voice sounded a lot weaker, quieter. Did it have to do with the strength of the swords, would they need to reach a certain strength to become sentient? It seemed to be the most logical option, at least to Yin Long. And from the looks of it, this black sword needed to collide with, devour, other swords if it wanted to reach that level of strength.

"Sorry, but can you wait with that until later? I'd like them to keep their swords for now."

Yin Long had already experienced it once so he didn't allow the talking sword to distract him too much and instead asked it earnestly. He had created it, but did that mean he was its master? When they were just mindless weapons, perhaps. But when they gained sentience? Could he still call himself its master then? What if they didn't want to follow him, what if they had differing desires from him? That was just how living being things were, their souls didn't always point in the same directions. Some were forever doomed to be lines that just met once and then parted forever.

Lat...er...Lots...

Luckily, the sword seemed receptive to his request and fell silent. But Yin Long could tell something from the silence, could see an image. The sword was puffing out its cheeks, it was pouting because he was calling it back so quickly. It was a sight that he couldn't help but smile at, but he was perhaps the only person who would think a pouting sword would be cute.

The blade vanished from his grasp and he quickly bent his body, dodging the foot that the first elder had sent out along with his attack. His crimson cloak also billowed at the same time, rising as its edges formed jagged blades that blocked the sword of the second elder. He had chatted with his sword and discovered that it was surprisingly cute, but he hadn't forgotten his surroundings, his purpose.

The jagged blades that blocked the incoming sword didn't just block it normally, they trembled slightly as if someone was wriggling the handle. Each tremble ate away at the force contained within the sword, weakened it and sucked it away, storing it for itself. It was a rather strange technique, but the elders had both seen it before, their eyes dark.

"The Swordsoul Guardians, you managed to steal their technique during your encounter?"

It wasn't their own technique, but they had records of the techniques used by the other Swordsoul sects so it was easy for them to recognize it. They had obviously heard that Yin Long had fought with the Swordsoul Guardians, even stealing their key fragment, but they hadn't heard anything about him stealing their technique.

Yin Long didn't answer the elders, most of his focus right now was on the energy, the force absorbed by his jagged blades. The energy would normally just stay in his blade and wrist, waiting to be unleashed, but he had other plans for it. It moved through his billowing cloak, the defensive armament he formed using his bloodline, and entered his body.

It swam through his muscles and blood, ran along his bones and nerves, all the way until it reached the frontmost joint of his left hands pinky finger. Resting quietly within that joint was a tiny sword, a blade born from Yin Long's soul and wind. It was this sword that would be his first attempt at body cultivation.

The energy robbed from the second elder's attack poured into the tiny blade, filling it to the brim and strengthening the sword. But with how small the sword was, there was a limit to how much energy it could hold, a limit to its strength. So before long, the energy started to overflow, it poured out of the blade and spilt into Yin Long's body.

Yin Long quickly formed a second blade and stabbed it into his finger, nestling it in the second joint of his pinky finger. The energy that poured out of the first sword coated his bone and flesh as it moved towards the second sword, acting like a grater as it tore at his body. If things went as he expected, the overflowing energy from the swords would end up coating his bones and flesh, slowly becoming a part of him as his body regenerated around it, the swords serving as anchors to keep the energy in place.

But an unexpected scene took place mere moments after he started his attempt. A slight popping sound came from his finger, the bandages around it acquiring a new shade of crimson. The front half of his pinky had ruptured, his skin and flesh turning inside out as the energy escaped his body. The swords remained, but all the energy had escaped, tearing his finger apart in the process.

"Yeah, I guess it's a bit expected."

Yin Long muttered quietly as he stepped back and to the side, the cyan sword that had appeared in his grasp deflecting the sword that came for his head while his crimson cloak morphed into multiple swords that blocked the lines that descended on him. The energy he absorbed, in the end, wasn't his. He had hoped that his body would regenerate around it, much like it would if you placed a metal rod in your body, but it seemed like the energy wouldn't allow itself to be imprisoned like that. Or perhaps it had been his own body that had rejected it, his body was after all rather rejective towards energy that didn't come from his soul.

Yin Long couldn't even shake his hand to shake away the inklings of pain, it was like having an itch he couldn't scratch. His sword swung again as he mulled it over, five replicas of his blade appearing in the air as he unleashed Ravenous Bite to block the other attacks that were also coming his way. The first attempt was a failure, a resounding one even, trying it again a second time would no doubt lead to the same result. So he had to change his approach, come up with a new technique to cultivate his body. Where would he start? What angles did he have to keep in mind? He didn't know, he honestly had no idea. But still, he smiled. Still, he swung his sword.

"Well, failure is the mother of success, so let's just go about and create a lot of mothers."

He blocked an attack and swung his sword again. He dodged and swung his sword again. He got kicked in the stomach as he avoided several attacks and stumbled back, but he swung his sword. And all the while, he smiled that twisted smile of his.