>When the Cold Edge Sword penetrated my chest, the scabbard trembled and screamed at my waist.
The Nine Heavens God's Throne turned into clouds and smoke, and I fell into the devil's abyss that will never see the light of day.
The monks abandoned me like worn out shoes: "A sword master without his natal sword is nothing."
But I touched a broken blade, and a faint childish voice came from the erosion of the demonic energy: "Master... Use the demonic energy... To nourish me..."
The broken blade absorbed the demonic energy and trembled and resonated, actually driving away the erosion and preserving my remaining body.
In order to survive, I knocked bones to make flutes, carved marrow into patterns, and used pain to guide the demonic energy to temper the broken blade.
The monsters from the demonic abyss attacked, and I swung the broken blade lightly - the monstrous demonic patterns lit up the abyss.
The alien beast retreated, Broken Blade trembled with excitement: "Master, we are so strong!"
