Late at night, inside Daoist's residence.
Wang Jixuan had finished meditating and stood up, stretching slightly. The three-foot flying sword revolving around him shivered like a spirit serpent and transformed into a silver sword pill which entered the palm of Wang Jixuan.
This sword pill seemed to have form yet was insubstantial, sinking and floating within his Qi Sea, continuing to enjoy the nourishment of the Qi Sea Primordial Spirit.
The flying sword was complete.
However, Wang Jixuan realized that he wasn't as happy as he had anticipated, as if he had just completed a minor task he had planned.
It indeed was a minor task.
Cultivators guard their bodies with spells, talismans, arrays, skills, elixirs, and artifacts. This was just a minor aid in the way of artifacts.
'With the flying sword, I can sneak a few attacks against S-level targets.'
Master Wang felt refreshed and peaceful, reflecting on this cultivation with a slight smile on his lips.
