Chapter 44: Shadowfang Sword
Su Tianhao remained completely unaware of Ye Jianping's petty plans for revenge, nor did he realize he had been followed through the entire marketplace. His singular goal was straightforward—acquire a quality sword and begin seriously pursuing the sword dao.
"You mentioned you stopped by specifically to acquire a sword," Master Huan said with a friendly smile. "What type are you looking for? Long sword? Short sword? Great sword? Flexible sword—"
"A long sword," Su Tianhao cut in without hesitation. "Not overly broad or heavy, but not too delicate either. Something balanced for versatile combat."
"Excellent choice, Young Master! You came to exactly the right place," Master Huan beamed, gesturing toward the interior of his establishment. "Come with me."
Su Tianhao followed him deeper into the store, past impressive rows of weapons arranged on every wall—each one carrying its own unique shape, design, and spiritual aura. They soon arrived at a smaller room, and the sight... was mind-blowing.
Su Tianhao stood frozen, eyes widened, mouth open. He completely lost all composure.
The chamber was filled floor to ceiling with swords. Blades gleamed from every wall, creating an almost overwhelming display of martial craftsmanship.
"What is this—a sword heaven?" Su Tianhao laughed, lips curling with amusement. "Looks like you've been busy."
"I mainly specialize in sword forging anyway," Master Huan said with a casual shrug—though the proud smile on his lips completely betrayed the humble words.
He gestured toward a specific collection at the far end of the wall. "Those are from my personal collection. Every single one is a verified high-grade Mortal rank sword—my finest creations to date."
Su Tianhao directed his gaze toward the indicated weapons. Several exceptional blades hung on a long wooden rack, each one positioned like a proud masterpiece. Their presence was undeniable—refined, wickedly sharp, carrying an almost dignified aura of quality. Even sheathed, they seemed to hum with restrained power. Compared to the impressive sword Master Huan had forged earlier that afternoon, these radiated an entirely different level of craftsmanship.
"They're in a different class entirely... even among weapons sharing the same grade," Su Tianhao murmured with genuine appreciation. He had read about such quality distinctions in his inherited memories—but witnessing it firsthand was something else entirely.
"As the saying goes—even among mighty dragons, there exist supreme kings; and among sharp swords, there are certain fangs that bite far deeper than all others."
"Well said, Young Master! Absolutely well said!" Master Huan laughed heartily. He glanced at Su Tianhao with unusual depth and sincerity. "I normally wouldn't do something like this for anyone—but since it's you, I'll make a special exception. Choose freely from my personal collection. You won't need to pay a single bronze coin."
Su Tianhao's pupils constricted. He hesitated visibly. The opportunist from seven years ago—the street orphan stealing to survive—would have jumped at such an offer without a second thought. But the current Su Tianhao was no longer someone who casually accepted significant favors without careful consideration.
"I am a man who knows the importance of repaying debts," Master Huan continued, his voice carrying genuine weight. "Before your fall from grace, Young Master, you made substantial impacts on many lives in this city. You fundamentally shaped the way I view business and commerce. If it wasn't for your strategic guidance during those days, how would this modest shop have become what it is today?"
"Master Huan..." Su Tianhao said, his voice heavy with emotions.
"You've done tremendous good in ways you probably never fully realized. There's no need to feel reluctant—consider this me finally repaying a long overdue favor," Master Huan added with a warm smile.
Inwardly, Master Huan didn't actually believe Su Tianhao could afford one of these weapons anyway. His personal collection represented one-of-a-kind masterpieces, and because of that uniqueness, their market prices were astronomical. Someone essentially abandoned and cut off from family resources simply wouldn't be able to afford them—and Master Huan had no desire to put the young man in an awkward position.
If Su Tianhao could read those thoughts, his lips would have twitched violently. But the assumption wasn't entirely wrong—before his fortunate encounter with Lu Ruyi, he had indeed been completely broke.
Su Tianhao's lips slowly curved into an accepting smile. "I won't be humble then. I'll gratefully accept."
"Good! Choose wisely, Young Master," Master Huan beamed, stepping back respectfully to wait.
Su Tianhao positioned himself before the collection. His sharp golden eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully analyzed each displayed blade—the sharpness of the edge, the density and quality of the metal, the balance of weight distribution, and above all, the spiritual aura each weapon naturally emanated. This level of perception came directly from the accumulated memories and experience of his two legendary immortal parents.
After several minutes of careful deliberation, Su Tianhao raised his hand and pointed toward a solitary sword at the very far end of the rack.
It was a longsword—sleek and subtly curved, with a distinctive dark, smoky-colored blade that gleamed with cold luster under the afternoon light. Its razor-sharp edge carried a deadly promise yet held an undeniable elegance—like a living shadow waiting in perfect stillness before striking with lethal precision. Faint wave-like patterns ran along the blade's polished surface, reminiscent of water reflecting pale moonlight. The guard was minimal, crafted from obsidian-black metal and shaped like the outstretched wings of a hunting bat—offering essential protection without drawing unnecessary attention. Its handle was wrapped in dark-gray leather, aged but still firm, built for function over decoration.
Su Tianhao's golden eyes flashed with absolute certainty.
"This one," he said firmly.
Master Huan's cheerful expression immediately darkened, and a bittersweet smile crossed his lips—mixing pride with genuine reluctance.
"What's the name of that sword, Master Huan?"
"The Shadowfang," Master Huan said quietly, his voice lowering as he began to explain. "That sword is my greatest creation to date—the one work that paved the way for everything that followed. It was forged from Nightiron ore, an exceptionally rare material prized for its durability, sharpness retention, and spiritual conductivity."
"Nightiron ore?" Su Tianhao gasped. He knew precisely how valuable that material was from his inherited memories. 'Such precious treasure is more than sufficient to craft a high-grade Spirit rank weapon! What a waste of premium material,' he thought with genuine dismay.
"You know about Nightiron ore, Young Master?" Master Huan asked with raised eyebrows.
"I've read about it in some old reference scrolls," Su Tianhao answered with a straight face.
"Ah, of course." Master Huan's expression softened with sudden understanding. "I sometimes forget how many books you buried yourself in as a child." Then his expression fell. "The heavens are truly cruel, to leave such an outstanding young man without any cultivation talent. Truly—" He didn't finish the sentence, only sighed heavily.
Su Tianhao looked at him, completely speechless. 'Does he actually think I awakened with zero talent?' he thought with mild exasperation.
Master Huan cleared his throat, realizing the atmosphere had grown awkward. Su Tianhao seized the moment.
"How did you come to obtain Nightiron ore in the first place?" he asked. Such material was virtually impossible to find—something even accomplished Spirit rank craftsmen could only dream of acquiring.
"I found it at an auction held outside the city," Master Huan admitted with a crafty, self-satisfied smile. "The auctioneer didn't properly recognize its true value."
"Hahaha! You were extremely lucky, Master Huan."
"You could certainly say that," Master Huan nodded, his expression growing more serious. "It was the Nightiron ore that made the Shadowfang possible. And it was the Shadowfang that opened an entirely new door of understanding for my weapon dao..." He sighed deeply, conflicted—such a treasured weapon was now becoming a gift to honor an old favor.
"It appears this sword holds tremendous sentimental value," Su Tianhao observed with a small, understanding smile.
"Of course it does!" Master Huan admitted with a pained expression. "The Shadowfang is already a quasi-peak-grade Mortal rank weapon. With proper refinement and enhancement, upgrading it into a Spirit rank weapon is not impossible."
Su Tianhao nodded in complete agreement. He understood the exceptional worth better than Master Huan realized—forged from genuine Nightiron ore, in the hands of a truly skilled craftsman, this blade had the potential to become a high-grade Spirit rank weapon.
"You really don't have to give me this one," Su Tianhao said seriously. "I can choose another."
"No!" Master Huan shook his head immediately, speaking through gritted teeth with forced determination. "As a man of honor, I cannot go back on my word."
Without allowing further argument, he stepped forward with purpose. He carefully removed the Shadowfang from its display, then retrieved an elegant scabbard from his spatial ring—black with intricate silver patterns flowing across its surface. With practiced, reverent movements, he sheathed the dark blade and extended the complete weapon toward Su Tianhao with both hands.
"Here. Take proper care of it," Master Huan said, his smile mixing pride, regret, and acceptance in equal measure.
Su Tianhao received the sword with both hands, treating it with the reverence it deserved. His impression of this principled craftsman rose considerably.
"I will treasure it," His golden eyes gleamed with inner light as he spoke, every word carrying a steady promise.
"Good." Master Huan nodded, satisfaction finally reaching his eyes. "I have a strong feeling you are fated for this sword. I sincerely hope it serves you well in the journey ahead."
"Thank you, Master Huan," Su Tianhao said, bowing slightly with the Shadowfang cradled carefully in his hands.
"A truly magnificent sword..."
He murmured softly, already feeling a strange, quiet connection beginning to form between himself and the blade.