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[Slow heat + genius flow + group portrait + multiple female protagonists + no system + decisive killing] "One hundred thousand monks burned their souls just to cultivate these three swords..." When Zhuo BuTong drew his sword, the rusty blade was dripping with wet blood. This was the fate of monks throughout the ages! The first sword! The divine blood turned into red rain and poured down, and the monks who had been sitting for thousands of years collectively broke through! "We have been waiting for this sword for tens of thousands of years!" The second sword! The gods in the clouds instantly turned gray, and a hundred thousand years of stolen life poured back into the human world! "Give me my immortal life! Give me my immortal life!" The third sword! Millions of remnant souls crawled out from the sea of blood: the sword cultivator who shattered his Taoist body, the alchemist who burned his soul into a candle, the mortal who used his body to support the sky... The sword is not unsheathed, and the heavens are silent. "Every year after that - when it rains on earth, the heavens are crying." "Want to cultivate immortality? Ask me about my sword first!"