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Chapter 151: Silent Sword Valley
The valley lay in silence.
No wind. No birds. No sound of water. Only stone and shadow stretched beneath jagged cliffs. Travelers who entered spoke little, for even breathing felt loud.
"This is the Silent Sword Valley," Lare whispered beside Shen's spirit form.
"Every strike leaves a mark here. Every movement is recorded by the land itself."
Shen's eyes narrowed. The godly engraving within him pulsed faintly. His hand rested on the hilt of his old sword, but he felt its limits. Tonight, the land demanded more.
He knelt on the rocky soil and closed his eyes.
From the core of his being, power began to flare—divine, demonic, precise. The engraving guided it, shaping intent into form.
The metal fragments scattered around him trembled. Shafts of black and crimson light danced, drawn toward his hand. Slowly, pieces aligned, melted, and reformed—by thought, by will, by absolute mastery.
A faint hum filled the valley.
When Shen opened his eyes, a new blade hovered before him. Its surface shimmered with dark energy, yet light refracted from its edge. The runes engraved along the length were sharp, precise, demonic, yet elegant.
He tested its weight. Balance perfect. Power overflowing.
"This… will do," Shen said quietly.
Around him, the others gathered.
Sael stepped forward, studying the remaining fragments of steel, rare ores, and magical cores left from the dragons' remnants.
"I can craft one as well," she said, selecting materials. Her hands moved methodically, weaving energy with metal. Sparks flew without sound. The air hummed faintly as the new weapon took shape—sharp, radiant, resonating with her own power.
Knights and disciples followed, each taking what remained. Though smaller, their blades were perfectly attuned to their masters' energies. Every sword carried history, every strike to come would leave a mark on the valley.
The wind, still minimal, shifted slightly as if acknowledging the forging.
Lare drifted above, observing.
"Even here," he said,
"creation draws attention. Remember, Silent Sword Valley remembers all."
Shen's gaze swept the horizon. The peaks beyond the valley seemed darker than before, shadowed by unseen forces.
He held the demonic blade.
"Soon," he said softly,
"the true battle begins. Every sword made here… will have its purpose."
The valley fell silent again, but now, the air hummed faintly with potential.
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