Chapter 758: Chapter 611 Sword Wielder_2 Chapter 758: Chapter 611 Sword Wielder_2 But even a tiger would not eat its own offspring, he could never allow himself to be that chosen one.

Yet now the truth had been prematurely unveiled.

Yatagarasu Kensumi was in despair.

He finally understood Sword Master Cold Crow’s later indifference; the only bond between him and that man was being reduced to a tool.

“I still remember the incidents of my childhood, the guidance you provided me as I grew up, and the smiles that graced your face.”

“But after I came of age, those smiles gradually disappeared, and our relationship became distant. At first, I thought it was because I was not doing well enough.”

“So I trained desperately, completely forgoing a normal life, hoping only to become stronger, to see more recognition!”

The sorrow in Yatagarasu Kensumi’s eyes vanished, leaving nothing but an empty calm, as if he were dead.

“Four months ago, Roger came to Hankawa, you wanted to adopt him but he refused, later he became your student.”

“Then I heard the same laughter again. Roger’s talent and the rate of his growth are incredible, is it only someone like that who is worthy to be your student, to be your son?”

“To gain your favor, and perhaps even inherit everything from Hankawa!?”

Yatagarasu Kensumi asked coldly.

“I’m beginning to understand Meiryu’s thinking now. He is your son, with the true bloodline of the Yatagarasu Clan, but in your heart, even he is not fit to be your successor.”

“You long to find a cultivator with talent as extraordinary as yours, and Roger is the only one that has been filtered out through numerous trials and the threat of death.”

He took a deep breath.

“If I were you, I might not choose to act like Meiryu, but I would feel the disappointment just the same…”

As he cast off the emotions in his heart, Yatagarasu Kensumi sank further into sadness.

“Am I right?”

He looked at Sword Master Cold Crow, hoping to see puzzlement or anger on the old man’s face.

But he was disappointed.

The wrinkles across the aged face remained as calm as ever.

No one could fathom his inner thoughts.

No one.

“Meiryu is my son,” Sword Master Cold Crow suddenly spoke, “and in my heart, so are you.”

Upon hearing these words, Yatagarasu Kensumi felt not joy but anger rising on his face–he did not want to hear lies after being betrayed.

Because, although aged, this man before him was his sky, the object of his faith and adoration.

The ugliness and the lies had already shattered his beliefs, and he did not want to face any more of it.

“I am your son?” Kensumi scoffed.

“I am merely a tool, one that has been prepared for over 20 years.”

“Can you tell me who I truly am, who are my real parents?”

“Where are they, are they dead… or…?”

At this point, something dawned on him, his eyes widened as he stared blankly at the old man before him.

Because he had thought of a horrifying possibility.

His breath became ragged in an instant.

“I have said, you are all my sons,” Sword Master Cold Crow spoke.

“Meiryu was born before you. At that time I was still young, without the power and prestige I have now, and his birth was an accident.”

“It was only when he was brought before me, when I felt the blood of this child same as mine, that I realized I had an heir.”

“But back then, the battles were too frequent, and I had too many enemies. As my adopted son, his chances of survival were far greater than as my flesh and blood son.”

“After all these years, besides me and Meiryu, no one knows this secret.”

“As for you…” Sword Master Cold Crow’s tone shifted, “I found you in an abandoned village.”

“Rest assured, I did not kill your parents.”

“Do you have any more questions?” Sword Master asked.

“Am I, the Sword Wielder you chose?”

Yatagarasu Kensumi’s voice trembled.

Sword Master Cold Crow’s gaze dropped slightly, and only after a moment did he reply.

“Once you were.”

Yatagarasu Kensumi felt as though all the vital energy had been drained from his body, “Once I was… to what level did you plan to nurture me?”

“Am I no longer qualified now?”

Yatagarasu Kensumi’s eyes were lifeless.

“I am very disappointed.”

Hearing this from Sword Master Cold Crow, Yatagarasu Kensumi found it overwhelmingly ironic.

The Flower of Eternal Darkness was brought back by his own hands–was this not digging his own grave?

“What do you plan to do with me?”

“Will you let me continue to be your Sword Wielder?”

His chest heaved violently, and at this moment, he thought of death.

“Or just kill me outright?”

Click.

Sword Master Cold Crow opened the wooden box on the table, which contained a weapon extremely similar to the one in the hands of Yatagarasu Akiryu.

The longsword was slender and immaculately white, pure without a single flaw.

Sword Master Cold Crow pointed at Yatagarasu Kensumi’s chest, “Pierce it, and you don’t have to die.”

His face turned pale, but Yatagarasu Kensumi had no thoughts of defiance, not because of strength, but because of decades of formed obedience.

He really wanted to raise the weapon in his hand, to fight to the death to prove his stance, but as he gripped the cold sword hilt and in the moment he swung it, Yatagarasu Kensumi hesitated.

He looked up at Sword Master Cold Crow.

“Since my existence is for you, if it pleases you…”

“I’ll do it!”

Having said that, he no longer hesitated, the sharp blade piercing his chest.

A muffled grunt escaped his lips, and as he bowed his head, he did not see the flash of disappointment in Sword Master Cold Crow’s eyes.

Splurch!

The sword went through his body, reaching all the way to the hilt.

Yatagarasu Kensumi used so much force, as if only by doing so could he hide the pain in his heart.

Hiss!

He opened his mouth wide, feeling that it was not his life but his power that was draining away.

And with it, the Guardian Spirit of the Yatagarasu Clan.

Although the longsword had penetrated his body, as time passed, the whole weapon melted like ice, seemingly merging with something within Yatagarasu Kensumi’s body.

Before long, the hilt fell to the floor.

Apart from that, there was not a single wound to be seen on Yatagarasu Kensumi.

He appeared unharmed, but Yatagarasu Kensumi knew all too well that a part of himself was gone forever.

“Go back,”
“Without my command, do not leave Hankawa.”

“Where else could I go now?” Struggling to his feet, Yatagarasu Kensumi managed a bitter smile.

He had never felt so weak; he staggered toward the door.

“Live well.”

The voice of Sword Master Cold Crow came from behind him.

Yatagarasu Kensumi stopped in his tracks.

“The sword just now took my life.”

After saying this, he pushed the door open and left.

As the door stood ajar, the snow outside swirled in, and at that moment, a figure appeared–it was Michihiro Morita.

He quickly entered the room, bent down, and picked up the sword hilt from the floor, his Spiritual Power tracing over it, and a faint longsword appeared beneath the hilt.

He put the weapon back into the box and secured it.

“Sword Master, the Flower of Eternal Darkness has taken effect; we are but one step away from success,”
Sword Master Cold Crow’s gaze was calm.

As if having thought of something, Michihiro Morita tentatively asked, “When the transformation is complete, could Meiryu Lord…”

“No.”

Sword Master Cold Crow shook his head.

“He is your son, but…”

“Just go do what you need to do.”

“I will take care of the rest.”

Sword Master Cold Crow’s voice was deep, and Michihiro Morita closed his mouth after thinking it over.

The room quickly became silent, leaving only Sword Master Cold Crow alone.

He huddled in the shadow behind the low table, his meager frame even looking somewhat pitiful.

The peak of Hankawa could only be felt by him alone.

Meanwhile, Yatagarasu Kensumi staggered towards his own courtyard – the Guardian Spirit had been extracted from him, and along with the injuries from the previous battle, his body could hardly hold on any longer.

In a daze, he saw a figure flit before him like a butterfly, then embrace him.

“Lord Kensumi.”

It was Yuuki Nao.

“What happened, how did you get so badly injured?”

“Does Sword Master know?”

With a heart wracked by pain, Yatagarasu Kensumi couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of fresh blood, and as he drifted into unconsciousness, he saw a beautiful face marked with tension and conflict.

“So there is still someone who cares about me.”

Then he lost consciousness completely.

At the same time, after entering the Shadow World, Roger also noticed something unusual about the Elder of Shadows.