Chapter Thirty-One: Attendant of the Sword

"The Grand Assembly of Ten Thousand Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix is held once every ten years, with each gathering lasting three months. The first two months are dedicated to resolving grievances and disputes among the various factions; it is only in the final month that the Lady of Phoenix Palace ascends the dais to expound the Dao. You, as the Sword Attendant to Crown Prince Kong Xuan, are charged with a task of decisive action—this concerns not only the honor of Peacock Hall, but also the dignity of Phoenix Mountain. I will first instruct you on the matters of protocol you must observe during the assembly," said Lady Zhi Lan as she walked side by side with Nan Luo into Peacock Hall.

A faint fragrance of orchids lingered at Nan Luo's nose.

A sword is an instrument of ceremony… To be an attendant to the sword is to attend to the rites themselves; one's actions must always bear the mantle of righteousness. Yet the sword Nan Luo attended was bestowed by Kong Xuan himself, so Nan Luo needed heed only Kong Xuan’s command.

But a sword is also a weapon—ferocious and suited for deeds of bloodshed.

By the time Kong Xuan returned, Lady Zhi Lan had already detailed all matters of importance for the assembly.

Kong Xuan held in his hand a three-foot sword sheathed in blue, its hilt adorned with a faint red glow.

"As a Sword Attendant, how could you be without a sword? This blade I found in the palace treasury to serve as your ritual sword for the assembly," Kong Xuan said, handing the sword to Nan Luo.

Lady Zhi Lan, watching from the side, exclaimed with surprise, "Is this not the primordial sword from the treasury? Ha, Nan Luo, you are the first attendant since the inception of the assembly to wield a primordial sword as your ritual blade."

Nan Luo accepted the sword in its blue scabbard. Hearing Lady Zhi Lan’s words, he felt a flicker of astonishment—he was well aware of the might of primordial treasures. The banana fan in Golden Horn’s hand was but a postnatal artifact forged from a single primordial banana leaf, and its power was already formidable. How much more fearsome, then, would this primordial sword be? On the road to Jade Void Palace, he had seen a woman in an apricot-yellow robe—by virtue of her primordial treasure, she had survived an ambush by a beast several realms above her and escaped unscathed. Such was the formidable nature of primordial spiritual treasures.

The sword felt heavy and cold in his grasp. The entire scabbard was a deep blue, like moss, with an image of a fiery red phoenix soaring engraved upon it. The hilt’s red embellishment was clearly a later adornment.

That this primordial sword’s scabbard bore the image of a phoenix, and that it had come to rest in Phoenix Palace’s hands…

Kong Xuan, noticing Nan Luo’s curiosity at the engraving, smiled. "When the Lady of the Palace acquired this sword, it was but a three-foot blade—hard as diamond and sharp beyond measure. But upon discovering it lacked the innate seals of the primordial Dao, she intended to melt it down and inscribe new incantations. Unexpectedly, her Phoenix Divine Fire had no effect on it whatsoever, and so, in the end, she could do no more than fit it with a hilt and scabbard."

Even the Phoenix Divine Fire could not so much as scorch it—truly, its material was extraordinary.

Nan Luo could not help but grip the hilt and draw the sword. A flash of brilliant white sword-light dazzled his eyes, a wave of chill surging forth.

"There is also this Phoenix Talisman, bestowed by the Lady of the Palace. Take it and familiarize yourself with its use," Kong Xuan continued, turning his wrist to reveal a fiery red talisman, shimmering with crimson light, within which a phoenix could be glimpsed soaring amidst flames.

Kong Xuan then imparted to Nan Luo the incantation to control the talisman. "From now until the assembly ends, so long as you remain within Phoenix Mountain, you may use this talisman to draw upon the mountain’s primordial energy. How great a force you can wield depends entirely on your own abilities."

Within Phoenix Mountain, this talisman’s power was boundless; in Kong Xuan’s hands, it could summon the mountain’s entire spiritual reservoir. But should he venture beyond its bounds, it would be no more than a common charm.

Nan Luo, no longer ignorant of such matters, swiftly understood: the Phoenix Talisman was but a spiritual conduit, a link to channel the mountain’s energy—only the Lady of Phoenix Palace herself could forge it. In ages past, when the Phoenix could rely on Phoenix Mountain and the Undying Palace alone to withstand the siege of the greatest powers under heaven, it was clear that Phoenix Mountain was almost certainly fused with her divine consciousness, the entire mountain her external incarnation.

Apart from the main hall where the Undying Phoenix resided, the Undying Palace on Phoenix Mountain housed three great halls: Kong Xuan’s Peacock Hall, Vermilion Bird’s Crimson Hall, and the Golden Roc Hall. Yet now, the Golden Roc Hall was no longer called by that name.

Ten years ago, after his Dao foundation was severed by Kong Xuan, the Golden Roc was utterly defeated—he petitioned the Lady of Phoenix Palace for leave and departed, never to be heard from again.

Just as all assumed the Golden Roc Hall would remain vacant, the Phoenix unexpectedly summoned the Thousand-Headed King to court, naming him Crown Prince and granting him stewardship over the hall. Thus, from that day forth, the Golden Roc Hall was renamed the Hall of a Thousand Heads.

No one knew whence he came; by its name alone, people could only surmise that the former Thousand-Headed King, now Crown Prince of a Thousand Heads, truly possessed a thousand heads.

When Nan Luo once more approached the gates of what was once the Golden Roc Hall, he felt a deep and unflinching calm.

The hall remained much the same, save for the plaque—once a source of pride for a youth named Qian Ye—which had now been replaced.

The characters for "Hall of a Thousand Heads" exuded a faint aura of killing intent, as though the calligrapher’s heart had been filled with boundless resentment and murderous will at the time of writing. Behind the three characters was the sigil of the hall’s master, as with all the great halls.

On the plaque of Peacock Hall, Kong Xuan’s sigil bore the chill and haughty air of one who soars above all. But the sigil on the Hall of a Thousand Heads was blurred and indistinct, shrouded in mist. Only upon close inspection did Nan Luo discern, within that haze, a monstrous bird standing tall—its shape akin to a phoenix, yet shrouded in a somber, ominous aura.

Nan Luo tried to see how many heads this strange form possessed, but all he could perceive was a field of gray. Even when he activated his Heavenly Sight, all remained obscure.

Inside the Hall of a Thousand Heads, an attendant emerged to lead Nan Luo within. The youth named Qian Ye was gone, and the hall’s décor had utterly changed. Where once gold and extravagance abounded under Golden Roc’s rule, now everything was draped in gray and gloom.

From the moment he entered, Nan Luo felt a suffocating pressure, as though countless invisible eyes were watching him from every dark corner.

Amidst the silence lay a touch of deathly stillness. Aside from the youth who escorted Nan Luo, not a single other servant could be seen.

The deeper they ventured, the dimmer the light grew, until at last they reached the great hall’s main chamber. There, the attendant bowed to the throne to announce Nan Luo’s arrival.

Nan Luo narrowed his gaze toward the seat of the master. Upon it sat the Crown Prince of a Thousand Heads, garbed in gray, cross-legged, eyes closed, seemingly indifferent to his attendant’s report.

"Sword Attendant Nan Luo of Peacock Hall pays respects to the Crown Prince of a Thousand Heads," Nan Luo intoned, bowing low and straightening with pride to meet the prince’s gaze.

The Crown Prince sat unmoving, as if deep in meditation. After a while, he suddenly spoke: "When a youth meets the Crown Prince, why does he not kneel?"

There was a strange magic in his voice—Nan Luo’s spirit wavered, his soul seeming to fly from his body, and his knees began to buckle, ready to bow against his will.