Shi Sujun Only Bears a Slight Resemblance to Her

"Roar...."

The dragon's roar echoed across the heavens, lingering without end.

Five drops of dragon essence blood fell upon the anvil, and the Celestial Divine Sword seemed to transform into a golden furious dragon, struggling to break free from someone's grasp and soar into the sky.

But the hammer, driven by unwavering resolve, always struck at the perfect moment.

The dragon's roar grew weaker, shifting from rage to mournful cries.

Crack—

Fine fissures spread from head to tail until, with a final explosive burst, it shattered into a golden rain. Along with it vanished the sword’s imperial ambition and the blood taint left behind by the Blood God.

The divine sword dimmed.

After all, only thirty percent of its heroic sword essence remained.

Having lost seventy percent of its divine aura, its power waned drastically, almost falling out of the realm of divine weapons.

"But without the divine sword, how will we withstand the next calamity?"

A blurry, blood-colored face froze in shock before twisting into a cold smirk.

Though reforged, the outcome seemed little different.

It could no longer influence the divine sword.

But the Celestial City had also lost its greatest reliance.

This fragment of its will was about to fade, free to depart at any moment, yet it lingered with amusement, eager to see how Li Mo would handle the aftermath.

"What is that...?"

"A hammer can be wielded like a sword?"

The clamor of the Celestial Clan rose.

It was high noon, the scorching sun hanging overhead. As the blood mist dispersed, the sky cleared like washed jade. The Blood God, glancing inadvertently at the misshapen sword, suddenly felt a searing, heart-piercing heat.

"Using a hammer as a sword, and still employing the Art of Soul Forging..."

"What is he doing?!"

Clang—

Clang—

One hammer strike followed another.

The fiery hammer radiated sword light—sometimes breathtakingly beautiful, sometimes razor-sharp and chilling.

It was hard to imagine words like "graceful," "fierce," or "ethereal" being applied to a hammer.

And no one knew the price paid for each strike.

Indeed.

Li Mo had poured all his martial insights into swordsmanship—how many years, he didn’t bother counting. Perhaps thousands, perhaps tens of thousands.

Each hammer blow appeared slow yet encompassed endless variations, unfolding countless transformations.

These changes occurred, yet their underlying principles remained elusive to the eye.

When he decided to abandon sword practice...

When he held a hammer instead of a sword...

His swordsmanship finally transcended the limits of mortality.

If there was no sword in hand, nor in heart, then where did the sword exist?

This question had plagued Li Mo for a long time.

But just now, amidst the choice of immortality, he understood. The four manuals—not martial arts at all—were ones he had long since mastered.

Li Mo laughed inwardly at himself.

Realizing this, he felt like a foolish youth who had ventured into the martial world, endured countless beatings, only to return home and find the supreme martial scripture gathering dust on his own shelf.

Under the flow of energy, Li Mo’s spirit, essence, and vitality reached their peak.

He unleashed the most stunning hammer strike of his life.

The Hammer of Humanity’s Slaughter—forging a soul into the sword.

Was it a hammer or a sword?

It no longer mattered.

Clang—

The Divine Hammer of Heavenly Craft, once used to forge a Dao artifact, completed the sword’s final transformation with a resounding strike.

A sword light erupted, piercing the heavens, soaring thousands—no, tens of thousands—of meters into the sky.

Beneath the blazing sun, amidst the flames, he and the reborn divine weapon shone with blinding radiance.

"It’s done..."

Outside, Du Wufeng’s hair and beard fluttered in the wind, his eyes reflecting the weapon’s glow.

"What has Young Hero Li forged?"

"Looks like a curved blade to me."

"He doesn’t practice saber arts—it’s clearly a curved sword."

"Neither."

As the crowd debated the weapon’s form, the Divine Craftsman Du’s voice came from behind.

With a sigh, he said:

"It’s a sickle."

"?"

The swordsmen and blacksmiths fell silent.

They gaped at the figure in the Scroll of Mountains and Rivers, raising both hammer and sickle, yet no words of protest came.

After a long pause, someone whispered:

"Has a sickle ever made it onto the Divine Weapons Ranking?"

Never before.

But starting today, it likely would.

Only time would tell if its reforged power surpassed its former glory.

......

At the Celestial City’s summit.

Li Mo steadied his boiling blood energy, swallowing a few pills to replenish himself. The toll of reforging the divine sword left him drained, his former vigor gone.

Now, he was weak.

Yet he still raised his head, staring unflinchingly at the blood shadow in the sky.

"Still not leaving? Do you want to test the sickle’s edge?"

"..."

The blood shadow remained silent, but a massive hand suddenly descended, grasping with unavoidable inevitability.

The Blood God’s true form had arrived unnoticed.

Its target—the newly reforged sickle.

From it, the Blood God sensed overwhelming threat!

"!"

In that instant, the minds of the Celestial Clan and Mo City’s people seemed to freeze in eerie stagnation.

This strike didn’t even disturb the world’s energy—it had already transcended the boundary between immortal and mortal.

Even if they wanted to aid Li Mo, it was beyond their power.

"Perfect timing!"

Li Mo gripped the freshly forged sickle, sensing within it an immense surge of energy and will.

Like a roaring tide, boundless and overwhelming.

He had no strength left.

But he didn’t need it.

Invisible hands seemed to layer over his own, clasping the sickle with him.

.....

Heavenly Mountain, Sword Tomb.

Thousands of broken swords suddenly trembled, the shattered blades appearing whole once more.

The wooden sword resting on the bluestone pulsed with green light, as if yearning to fly free.

"No need to go—your intent alone can aid him."

The white-bearded elder gently stroked the blade.

.....

And so.

Li Mo sensed familiar energies and couldn’t help but smile, as if seeing the simple figure of a boy wielding a wooden stick.

Not just Er Niu, but countless blade-bearers of Mo City, and millions of ordinary folk from the Human City.

They had all heard the proclamation upon gripping the divine weapon: "The Celestial City shall have no more emperors."

He raised the sickle and swung lightly.

In the frozen minds of the onlookers, a faint light flickered to life.

At first dim, then crimson like a rising sun, soon to reach its zenith and illuminate all beneath heaven.

This couldn’t be called sword light—it was something purer.

Squelch—

The Blood God’s remnant body, which even the highest realm experts could only seal but not destroy, was cleanly severed in two.

"Wail..."

A tempest surged through the Celestial City’s domain, and the heavens split open with a bloody gash, the sky weeping crimson.

Unbeknownst to all, the Blood God had fused part of its true form into the Heavenly Phoenix Realm.

Thus, this strike also wounded the Celestial City itself.

"Li Mo, because of you, the calamity will arrive early."

A voice dripping with malice echoed.

"Aren’t you curious what Ying Bing has been up to?"

Li Mo’s face remained as cold as ice.