Henry Dawson bypassed Eric Dawson once again, but this time the other party did not try to stop him, only letting out a string of cold laughs.

Returning to his own quarters, Henry Dawson sat down and slammed his fist onto the table, his face full of anger.

After all, he was only a seventeen-year-old youth, at the most passionate and impulsive age, yet he had to endure others’ ridicule and sarcasm day after day—how could he not feel even a trace of anger?

“Black sword, oh black sword, you’ve plagued me for so many years. I don’t expect any compensation from you, I just beg you to be satisfied soon and stop tormenting me!” Henry Dawson said in his heart. This was the roadblock on his path of cultivation—if he couldn’t overcome it, everything else was out of the question.

“Continue cultivating!”

“Although the Lieyang Art isn’t as effective at night as it is during the day, I absolutely can’t waste even a single moment!”

Henry Dawson went out into the courtyard, sat cross-legged, and began circulating the Lieyang Art to refine the dinner he had just eaten, continuing until he was utterly exhausted before crawling into his room to sleep.

He didn’t keep any servants; his father was always away, searching for spiritual medicine to “cure” him, and his mother had passed away early. He had long since gotten used to living alone.

Another night passed, and Henry Dawson began another ordinary, monotonous day, enduring the scorching sun and using the painstakingly cultivated true essence to feed the seemingly bottomless appetite of the black broken sword.

On the morning of the fourth day, Henry Dawson did not go to the plaza again.

Although sitting on that big rock absorbed the most heat and was best for practicing the Lieyang Art, Henry Dawson had a feeling that the black broken sword was on the verge of changing!

He didn’t know what strange scene might occur—maybe the broken sword would float out of his body and soar into the sky, or perhaps it would burst forth with a blinding light. In any case, he didn’t want to take that risk.

Cultivating in his own courtyard was a bit less effective, but it didn’t matter for just this one day.

Suppressing his excitement, Henry Dawson sat cross-legged on the ground and began cultivating under the blazing sun.

Half an hour, an hour… time ticked by, and soon four hours had passed.

Buzz!

The black broken sword in Henry Dawson’s dantian began to tremble slightly, sending out ripples that spread through his dantian. The trembling grew stronger and stronger, eventually becoming like a landslide and tsunami, surging violently.

Every muscle in Henry Dawson’s body began to tremble along with it, as if he was about to be torn apart, making him wish for death!

“Damn it! I’ve fed and tolerated you for so many years, and you still don’t know what’s good for you, even now you want to torment me!” Henry Dawson cursed inwardly. He had never complained to anyone about these ten years of suffering, but now this damned black sword still wanted to torment him, making him furious beyond measure!

“Submit to me!”

Henry Dawson didn’t know what else to do; he just held onto his resentment and used his will to suppress the black sword.

The black sword’s trembling weakened a bit—not by much, but it was definitely weaker!

Henry Dawson was proud at heart, but unfortunately had never been able to cultivate like a normal person, forcing him to endure all this time. Some people might lose all their drive in such silence, but Henry Dawson only became more aloof and proud, just waiting for the day he could soar like a dragon and shine with dazzling brilliance!

Now it was a contest of willpower, unrelated to strength, and it finally brought out all his pride!

“This is my body. If you’re inside me, you have to listen to me!”

Henry Dawson roared inwardly, his will growing ever more tenacious and unyielding, fiercely suppressing the black sword.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

The black broken sword seemed unwilling to be suppressed by Henry Dawson, and began to tremble violently again, sending out waves that made Henry Dawson feel as if his whole body was about to burst apart!

Henry Dawson snorted coldly in his heart, refusing to back down as he launched a counterattack, determined to suppress the black broken sword.

Thus began a tug-of-war between man and sword, a protracted battle. The black broken sword felt no pain or fatigue, but Henry Dawson was made of flesh and blood—sweat poured off him like rain, his clothes were soon soaked through, and every muscle in his body cried out in pain.

But for a youth who had harbored resentment for ten years, this black broken sword was the chief culprit—how could he possibly admit defeat before it?

He had endured for ten years, but today—he would endure no more!

After ten years of practicing the Lieyang Art, Henry Dawson’s will had been tempered greatly, giving him the ability to withstand this kind of confrontation. Otherwise, he would have fainted in less than a minute.

Ten minutes, thirty minutes, an hour!

Henry Dawson’s body was on the verge of collapse; at this point, if anyone gave him a push, he would definitely fall headfirst and pass out immediately. But there was still a taut string inside him that hadn’t snapped—he gritted his teeth and held on, his will now as hard as steel after such tempering.

It was all about pride!

Although the black broken sword was just a lifeless object, Henry Dawson simply couldn’t swallow his pride—he could lose to anyone, but not to the thing that had tormented him for ten years!

Two hours, three hours!

Henry Dawson had long since reached his limit; he couldn’t even feel the pain in his body anymore. It wasn’t that the pain had disappeared, but that he was numb to it—even if his arms or legs broke at this moment, he wouldn’t feel a thing.

But his will only grew stronger, firmly suppressing the black broken sword, without the slightest compromise or retreat!

The black broken sword’s trembling grew weaker and weaker, until finally, it stopped completely.