Volume One: The Emperor's Sword Chapter 112: Disturbing the Master's Wife's Tomb

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Upon hearing of artificial spirit roots, Yun Que was momentarily stunned.

“Nan-jie, could you graft spirit roots?”

Si Ruo’nan shook her head. “I can’t. But someone can.”

“Who?”

Yun Que was even more astonished.

If spirit roots could truly be grafted, the greatest barrier between cultivators and mortals would cease to exist. Mortals, too, would then possess cultivation.

“I don’t know who it is, but I can be certain that such a person exists. Perhaps they are even somewhere within the Imperial City.”

Si Ruo’nan took out a small bronze mirror.

“This object is called the Spirit-Reflecting Mirror. Its purpose is to reveal spirit roots. Unlike the large spirit-detection mirrors, it cannot determine the specific attributes of a spirit root. However, I added an extra function: by the depth of the reflected image, it can estimate the spirit root’s age, much like measuring someone’s bone age.”

As she recalled the past, Si Ruo’nan recounted a strange incident she had encountered the previous year.

At the time, a young man had come to her shop to purchase a magical artifact. Since she had just used the Spirit-Reflecting Mirror, she casually set it on a shelf. The spiritual energy on its surface had not yet dissipated, and it consequently revealed the young man’s spirit root.

The image of his spirit root was extremely faint, corresponding to that of a child only one or two years old, while the young man himself was around twenty.

Such a vast disparity meant that his spirit root was severely mismatched with his physical body. The only possibility was that it had been grafted onto him after birth. Si Ruo’nan therefore concluded that the young cultivator was a successful bearer of an artificial spirit root.

“Since artificial spirit roots truly exist, it proves that grafting spirit roots is feasible. Unfortunately, I don’t have a suitable spirit root at hand for experimentation. Otherwise, I might have been able to graft another spirit root onto your friend with the Dragon Spirit Root.”

“Making her a dual-spirit-root cultivator and replacing the old root with the new one might alleviate the drawbacks brought about by her Dragon-Aspect Constitution. It may not guarantee a normal lifespan, but at the very least, it could allow her to live many more years.”

Si Ruo’nan spoke with undisguised regret.

“What happens when a spirit root is removed?” Yun Que asked.

“The person dies.” Si Ruo’nan’s expression grew solemn. “For artificial spirit roots to be created, countless living people must be used in experiments before there is any hope of success. Simply removing a spirit root is fatal, regardless of how powerful the cultivator is. Any method capable of successfully grafting a spirit root must have been accompanied by countless deaths.”

Yun Que’s brows remained tightly furrowed.

He had never doubted Si Ruo’nan’s skill in artifact refinement, but she was no maniacal killer. It was impossible for her to find so many living people for experimentation.

Besides, Han Jiao’s Dragon Spirit Root could not be forcibly removed. Once the spirit root left her body, she would die as well.

Unless they could find the expert in the Imperial City who had successfully created an artificial spirit root and learn the method of grafting one, Han Jiao would still have little hope of survival.

“Countless deaths…”

Murmuring to himself, Yun Que suddenly thought of a place.

Mist Mountain!

He immediately connected it with the origin of the mountain of bones.

The bones within the mountain might all be discarded experimental subjects.

If that was the case, then the Zodiac member known as Noon Horse, who had created the mountain of bones at Mist Mountain, was likely the true originator of artificial spirit roots.

Yun Que had never imagined that Noon Horse, who had once contacted him, possessed such an arcane method for grafting spirit roots.

And the clue that could expose Noon Horse’s true identity was the cultivator with an artificial spirit root who had once visited the artifact shop.

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“Nan-jie, do you remember what that person looked like?”

“I still remember his general appearance. Wait here. I’ll draw him for you.”

Si Ruo’nan brought over paper and brush. After meditating for a moment, she guided the brush with spiritual energy and quickly produced a simple portrait from memory.

The portrait was not refined, but his features could be distinguished.

He was a young man of ordinary appearance. His only notable characteristic was his deeply sunken eye sockets.

The instant Yun Que saw the portrait, his gaze darkened.

He knew this man.

Not only did he know him—he had once knocked out every one of the man’s teeth.

It was Huan Zhi, the Thunder Spirit Root disciple who had entered the Sword Palace alongside Yun Que.

Upon learning that Huan Zhi possessed an artificial spirit root, Yun Que felt that he was getting ever closer to uncovering Noon Horse, one of the Twelve Zodiacs.

Previously, he had possessed no clues concerning the Twelve Zodiacs. He could only contact them through the Snake Token, and every one of them was shrouded in profound mystery.

Now, with Huan Zhi as a lead, the truth behind the Twelve Zodiacs finally had a chance to emerge.

Before he left, Si Ruo’nan gave the Spirit-Reflecting Mirror to Yun Que and told him something strange.

“Because I have cultivated the Heart Classic of Artifact Manipulation, I’m fairly proficient in the art of artifact refinement. I can sense a peculiar aura of artifact refinement within the Imperial City.”

“That aura is powerful yet obscure. It gathers and disperses from time to time, which is extremely strange. Moreover, it has been slowly growing year by year, becoming more intense with each passing day.”

“It may be that some powerful cultivator is refining artifacts in secret. It may also be that some unknown entity is plotting something. I don’t know the truth behind that aura, but I have a feeling it will prove extremely dangerous. You must be careful.”

“I will.” Yun Que asked one more question. “Where is that strange aura you mentioned? Have you investigated it?”

“I have. I went there several times, but found nothing unusual. It lies in that direction.”

Si Ruo’nan pointed toward a certain quarter.

It was the direction of the imperial palace.

At the end of his line of sight stood the Son of Heaven Sword, towering above every other pavilion.

Could the dangerous aura Si Ruo’nan had sensed be connected to the Son of Heaven Sword?

The thought flashed through Yun Que’s mind and vanished.

The Son of Heaven Sword had been created on the emperor’s whim. If it truly could be forged into a vicious blade, the emperor would have taken it to butcher the barbarians long ago. It was unlikely to pose any danger.

After leaving the artifact shop, Yun Que returned directly to the Sword Palace.

Before he could reach his residence, Niu Bucai dragged him to the main hall of the Northern Courtyard.

He claimed he had a surprise for Yun Que.

Inside the hall, Yun Que saw his senior sister.

Xue Ziyi took an ancient wooden box from behind her. Its material had faded with age, but it was clear that it had once been exquisitely decorated.

“I told you I would give you a proper flying sword. Come, try this Snowtrace Sword!”

With great gusto, Xue Ziyi slapped open the wooden box. Inside lay a strange flying sword, its entire body silver-white as snow. The moment the box opened, waves of chill air poured forth.

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Among magical artifacts, the power of the five elements never escaped into the surroundings. Only a treasure could radiate such cold.

Given Xue Ziyi’s finances, it was impossible for her to truly give Yun Que a treasure.

The Snowtrace Sword was merely a supreme-grade magical artifact. It was simply unusual, having been repaired after its original form as a treasure was damaged.

The Snowtrace Sword had once been a genuine treasure. After it was destroyed, the Northern Courtyard Elder refined it into a supreme-grade magical artifact.

Because of this, the Snowtrace Sword could be considered one of the finest supreme-grade magical artifacts in existence—nearly the embryo of a treasure.

“What a fine sword!”

Yun Que seized the Snowtrace Sword and felt the icy power flowing through it. He praised it sincerely.

“Of course it’s a fine sword—and one of the very finest!” Ma Yong said from the side, his expression strangely complicated. “This Snowtrace Sword originally belonged to a pair with Master’s Frost-Dust Sword. It was the relic of our mistress and was buried alongside her.”

The more Yun Que listened, the more something seemed wrong. He asked in astonishment, “Where did this sword come from?”

Nearby, Niu Bucai grinned smugly.

“Obviously, Senior Sister dug it out of her grave!”

Yun Que was left speechless.

This senior sister of his was truly reckless. She had even dared to dig up their mistress’s grave.

Before nightfall, a ghostly face appeared in the center of the main hall.

The ghostly face was especially ferocious today.

Xue Ziyi, Ma Yong, and Niu Bucai poured all their strength into activating the formation before they finally managed to suppress it.

Yet no matter how Yun Que looked at it, he felt that the ghostly face was cursing Senior Sister Xue at the top of its lungs.

There were only two days left until the Sword Disciple Contest.

The disciples of the Sword Palace were all rubbing their fists and preparing for the annual grand event.

Yun Que was no exception.

After dinner, he returned to his residence and moved out the ten golden pomfret skeletons that had been piled in the corner for so long. He exchanged them at the mission hall for a single sword tassel.

He had heard of sword tassels for a long time, but this was the first time he had ever obtained one.

The sword tassel was sky-blue and made of nine slender strands of fringe, with a woven knot at the top. It looked simple and neat.

Sitting in his room, Yun Que toyed with the newly acquired sword tassel.

Gradually, a strange sensation arose within him. It seemed that a wisp of sword aura faintly existed inside the tiny tassel.

Just as he was about to examine it carefully, Yun Que’s body suddenly stiffened.

The whites of his eyes instantly turned black.

His eye sockets seemed to have transformed into pools of ink, filled with a dense aura of death.

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