The Invincible Supreme Medical God

Chapter 721 - 423: Ice Storm Sword

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Yan Xiaobao’s gaze was drawn to a small pile of weapons scattered across the floor. Some were rusty, while others were broken, but his attention locked onto a seemingly ordinary rusty sword. Staring at the sword, Yan Xiaobao was overwhelmed by a sudden memory, a flashback to how he once lived a different life years ago. He had stepped into a shop and found the Phoenix hairpin there. As he observed this rusty, ancient sword, the feeling in his chest grew faint, yet it transported him back to the day he first encountered Lan Feng’s hairpin. Something inside him silently screamed: if he didn’t claim this sword now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Without hesitation, he reached out and picked up the sword from the pile as Ma Yun watched in shock. Their family considered these weapons nothing but scrap metal—valuable only because some contained rare metals, jewels, or inscriptions worth repurposing. Yet no attempt had been made to restore them to usable weapons. Ma Yun, surprised that Yan Xiaobao chose this dilapidated sword over the pristine ones on the racks, remained silent, knowing deep down that Xiaobao never acted without reason.

Yan Xiaobao felt an intense, unexplainable pull toward the sword. Though it appeared to have remained neglected in this pile for countless years, left to rust, there was still something drawing him significantly closer to it. As if answering his touch, a vibration hummed from within the weapon. The sword emitted faint energy ripples outward, while Xiaobao felt an opposing pull in his own Dantian. The pull was so strong, it consumed all the energy ripples from the sword entirely. Once traveling freely through his body, the energy was refined into golden martial power as it settled into his Upper Dantian. While the initial vibrations were weak, both the strength of the humming and the intensity of the ripples steadily grew. Before long, the entire storage room was immersed in the resonating hum, so overpowering that Ma Kong was forced to cover his ears and shut his eyes.

The humming caused the sword in Yan Xiaobao’s hand to tremble. Its vibrations seemed to harmonize with the humming, leading to flakes of rust peeling off its surface. However, this didn’t completely restore the sword nor make it usable again. The hum grew louder and louder until it reached a deafening pitch, even making the racks in the vault shake from the sheer impact of the waves, but then, without warning, all the sound ceased. The sword fell silent, its energy pulse vanishing simultaneously. As the weapon quieted down, so did Yan Xiaobao’s body. The abrupt change left him speechless; his mouth hung open in awe as he stared at the weapon in his hand, unsure of what to say or do.

Watching him, Ma Kong slowly lowered his hands from his ears and opened his eyes. He grew increasingly unsettled by his friend’s extraordinary reaction to the sword. It wasn’t the concern that Xiaobao might be taking something invaluable from his family; rather, it was the disquieting idea of how Xiaobao seemed to resonate profoundly with the weapon itself. How was this even possible? A sword was simply a tool—lifeless, devoid of feelings—but this particular one struck him as entirely different. Shaking his head, Ma Kong decided to stop dwelling on it. He’d leave it to Yan Xiaobao to handle; this was far beyond anything he could make sense of.

Once the humming faded, the strange sensation of energy draining from the sword subsided. Yan Xiaobao focused on the rusty weapon in his hand. He ran his fingers hesitantly across its surface, which was nearly corroded to the point of ruin. His hand instinctively reached toward the hilt, where rusty flakes crumbled beneath his touch. Amid the rust, he discovered faint markings carved into the metallic surface. After painstaking effort and patience, he finally deciphered the letters: Ice Storm Sword.

The blade was still marred with rust. Gazing at the battered sword, Yan Xiaobao wondered if it could somehow be restored. He resolved to try, no matter how slim the chances appeared. The pulsating waves of power emanating from the sword confirmed to him that it was anything but ordinary. Despite its decrepit appearance, Xiaobao refused to underestimate its strength. There had to be a way to rescue the weapon’s true essence from within.

Clearing his throat, Yan Xiaobao finally broke the silence, voicing what was already apparent. "I’ll take this sword. I hope you don’t feel like I’m exploiting your family. If you want me to pay for it, I’d happily do so, but if you’d prefer not to get involved—" he paused, a trace of worry flickering on his face as he continued—"I’d completely understand." Although he desperately wanted to claim the sword, he resolved not to quarrel with the Ma family over it. After all, the weapon rightfully belonged to them.

Shaking his head, Ma Kong managed a smile toward his good friend. "We’ve had this sword for countless years. It was tossed into a pile to be forgotten, too damaged to be of any use. It would eventually have been scrapped and recycled into something else. If the sword reacts this way for you, then obviously I wouldn’t stand between it and the one it truly desires," he said. Though perplexed, Ma Kong couldn’t shake the feeling that the sword held something almost like a soul within it. He chose not to dwell on the thought too much, terrified that he might lose his sanity pursuing such a peculiar possibility. What kind of weapon could this be if it truly had a soul of its own? A soul-linked weapon... Was such a thing even possible?