Master gave me two divine swords for my senior brother and I to choose from.
A sword roared with dragons, and the sword light shot into the sky. The moment he saw his senior brother, it wrapped around his wrist and recognized him as his master.
The other one was rusty and had no aura. It was shaken off by the sword energy and lay alone on the ground.
I felt pitiful for it, so I silently picked it up and used my spiritual power to warm it up and wipe it day and night.
The sword spirit of the senior brother took shape in the first year and became extraordinary in martial arts, helping the senior brother to defeat his peers.
I was the only one guarding that rusty sword, spending countless resources from heaven and earth, and my cultivation progress was very slow.
My brothers and sisters all advised me to give up this "shabby iron" sword and find another good sword.
But I didn't take it seriously and held the rusty sword in my arms:
"It doesn't matter. If you don't wake up for a day, I will warm you up for a day. The sword is still there."
But when the demons attacked, the rusty sword suddenly woke up, its demonic energy surged into the sky, and turned into a world-destroying giant blade.
I exhausted all my spiritual energy and tried to climb onto the sword's spine to escape.
Look, kids, I can't be the only one hurt