Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

Along the central axis of the grand hall, there stood two majestic divine statues. They were positioned to the left and right, their heads reaching directly up to the beams of the hall's roof, and between them, there was an openwork carving of a phoenix. Beneath it lay an incense burner, and when the burner was lit, the smoke would gently curl around it, vaguely creating the image of a phoenix taking flight.

However, what drew the most attention in the grand hall was the ancient sword placed horizontally behind the incense burner, sheathed in what appeared to be a stone-like scabbard with a tangle of blue silk around its hilt, culminating in a carving of lotus petals.

The entirety of the grand hall was devoid of any technological constructs, likely intended to preserve the ancient aesthetic, creating a silent and timeless atmosphere.

Upon entering the grand hall, everyone became much quieter out of respect for their ancestors and their heritage, no one spoke loudly.

After standing up a bit, Hexia looked towards the sword in the distance, as if she could 'hear' a peculiar melody. It was not a song, but more like the lingering fragrance of history that had settled.

Was this the destiny her mother was meant to inherit...? She shook her head, then began to ascend the steps one at a time.

The crowd watched silently, their already soft conversations ceasing altogether as they stood in orderly rows, witnessing Hexia walk step by step toward the end of the stairs, until her wrist, pale as the moon, reached over the incense burner and her fingers gently touched and stroked the sword scabbard.

Dust scattered with each touch, as the scabbard was held in the girl's hands, and as she grasped the sword's hilt, a sense of kinship through blood emerged, followed by a slow withdrawal.

————

Outside, on the open ground, Feng Jianxue's battle with Gu Qianlou grew more intense, but Feng Jianxue quickly found himself at a disadvantage, complaining bitterly.

That guy was abnormal, definitely not of the strength a normal Sequence 6 should have; he must have employed some sort of wicked technique. He absolutely wouldn't admit it was due to his own lack of skill. After all, he was a high-achieving graduate of a federal academy, with a family secret technique to boot, so how could he be worse than these 'natives' from underground?

No matter, he had demonstrated loyalty enough; it seemed the other side wouldn't do anything to the young lady Hexia. If things really went south, he could always come back later with reinforcements to rescue her.

Having thought it through, Feng Jianxue prepared to flee; he wasn't the rigid type who clung to pride at any cost.

"Today is not the day for a drawn-out battle, we shall meet again!" he said, his blade sweeping through a trail of white light as he rose swiftly into the air like a huge owl, darting between the layers of red banners above and vanishing without a trace.

"Hmph."

After driving away the nuisance Feng Jianxue, Gu Qianlou made a beeline for the Ancestral Shrine, shattering the front door with a single kick. When he saw what was happening inside the grand hall,

Hexia was slowly drawing the sword, but the scene that unfolded greatly disappointed everyone present. Following the hilt, there was only a broken blade left, and by turning the scabbard upside down, several fragments of the sword edge fell out.

The Divine Sword, which had once contained the heritage of tomes and secret techniques, had long been damaged by time.

"Do you think we hadn't thought of revival in those days? This is reality," Gu Qianlou said coldly, looking at the Ancient Sword in Hexia's hands.

He had drawn the sword himself when he was very young, but the outcome had been disappointing. Therefore, he resolutely chose to inherit the secret technique of another branch, entrusting the line of the Sword Guardian to his sister.

"Yes, it's such a pity," Hexia leaned down and carefully picked up the fragments one by one.

Seeing her still 'disobedient,' Gu Qianlou's anger flared, and he swept the Sword Guardians aside with the sword in his hand, charging directly toward the young girl inside the great hall.

Facing the approaching Gu Qianlou, Hexia slightly closed her eyes, and with both hands slowly opening, the broken Sword Edge fragments in front of her began to float gently, suddenly bursting into an extremely bright verdant light.

Countless currents of air spilled out from the gaps in the broken sword, and the surging, immense Magic Power directly flung the statues in the hall into the air; then both the windows and the doors shot out a lush, verdant glow.

"This is..."

The fierce wind continued to blow ceaselessly, shaking the entire Ancestral Shrine until finally the chaotic inner currents ripped off the roof. Amidst the broken bricks and ruins, the young girl with long black hair stood alone. Her eyes were slightly closed, and the Ancient Sword Fragments by her side rose with her, slowly ascending. In the astonished and shocked gazes of all, the fragments of the Sword Edge returned to their correct positions, reassembling into a complete Sword.

Gu Qianlou, amid the windstorm, tried to approach the floating Hexia in the sky, but as he came closer, the strong wind pressure increased, slowing his pace more and more.

Until at last, as the gradually whole Ancient Sword hovered above the girl's head, she raised her hands, grasping the hilt with one and caressing the battered Sword with the other...

The gaps upon the Sword emitted dazzling verdant rays, sweeping across this dim underground, casting its radiant light over the entire core area, whether it was the both sides fighting in the Forbidden City, the residents of the core area, or the tense people watching monitors elsewhere in Jielou City.

In the brilliant light, the parts that had once disappeared slowly reemerged, coalescing into a flawless Divine Sword.

Qing Luan's cries, the Zhuomo Sword

As this Divine Sword emerged slowly from the emerald radiance, the phantom of a phoenix danced around it, its cries echoing through the underground.

When the light dispersed, only the girl holding the Divine Sword in the void remained; its hilt was entwined with black silk, the Sword's body was clear and transparent, like crystal, and within this transparent body, swirls of inky blackness moved as if phoenixes were dancing—exceptionally splendid.

This Sword was not intended for slaughter but as a ritual instrument of sacrifice, symbolizing the legacy of the Green Lotus Sword Washing Palace, representing the purification of worldly impurities and the clarity of mind and heart.

Holding this Sword, Hexia continuously received a myriad of secret techniques from its past, whether it was everything on the ancient Land of Divine Continent, the hesitance in entering the Galactic Era, or the sorrow of hiding from the chaos of war in later generations—all reflected in her mind, inspiring a deep sense of the sea changes over time.

The scenes of the ancient past evoke longing, but the relentless forward march of time transforms everything. No longer are wandering heroes needed to traverse the world, no solitary ascents of green mountains to gain a Sect's recognition required, no decades of loneliness in the mountains to master complete and superior swordsmanship required. There are no longer mythical beasts and demons needing Upper Gate experts to suppress and sweep away, nor do people view each other as brothers and sisters for the sake of Factions, supporting one another.

The decline of the Upper Gate Sects of yesteryear was not just because the "secret techniques" were lost, but more so because these past Sects were no longer needed or adaptable to this complex and ever-changing era.

Where is the way out, after all?

With a long sigh, Tilan slowly opened her eyes, looking down at the ancient and desolate palaces and buildings below. She swung the Sword Edge in her hand, and a gentle breeze blew through the underground, illuminating dots of mellow yellow light as the Condensation of Aijieka Particles emerged from the void, floating like lanterns, lighting up the dim depths.