In Du Yun's eyes, the winner was king. Only the sword that stood at the highest peak had the qualifications to be passed down.
The swords along the way were just passersby.
What about Ye Qiubai?
Ye Qiubai didn't have these thoughts.
A sword was a sword.
Regardless of whether it was good or bad, strong or weak, regardless of the difference in materials, it was still a sword.
Sword cultivators had to possess swords before cultivating.
Every sword represented a sword cultivator's mental journey and path of cultivation.
This could not be summarized by just a sword.
In Ye Qiubai's heart, be it the Dark Demon Sword or the nine-foot Starfall Sword, they were all part of his life.
On the contrary, the broken swords in the Sword Tomb were the same.
However, were these broken swords all from a sword cultivator?
Ye Qiubai's fingers gently caressed the hilts of the swords. His eyes were filled with shock as he thought to himself, If these broken swords all came from the same master…
