There was about an hour left until midnight. Taking advantage of this time, Henry Dawson dug a pit and buried the corpse. Since he had obtained a supreme cultivation technique from the deceased, letting the dead rest in peace was the only thing he could do.

Buried together with the deceased was a token. On one side were the characters “九灵,” and on the other, “苏.” He didn’t know what material it was made of; it was entirely purple.

Henry Dawson believed it was the deceased’s identity token, so he buried it along as well.

After finishing all this, it was nearly dawn. He sat down cross-legged, quietly waiting for the black broken sword to release its energy.

Buzz!

At the very instant midnight arrived, the black broken sword trembled lightly, and a tremendous power surged out, instantly flooding Henry Dawson’s entire body. He hurriedly activated the Moon Shadow Heart Technique, frantically absorbing and refining the free-flowing energy.

In less than twenty minutes, all the energy had been completely refined. Henry Dawson opened his eyes, only to be suddenly startled!

On the cliff face above the pond, a human figure had appeared, moving continuously!

Someone? Who is it!

Henry Dawson immediately sprang to his feet, his longsword ringing as it left its sheath, assuming a defensive stance.

He looked up at the sky. Although the bright moon hung high, the cliff was steep and sheer—there was no way anyone could be standing up there. So this shadow definitely wasn’t being cast from above.

Could it be reflected from beneath the water’s surface?

A sense of the uncanny rose in Henry Dawson’s heart. Moving and walking underwater are completely different; that shadow was definitely walking, not swimming!

Who could possibly stroll about beneath the water?

A water ghost?

Chapter 9: Comprehending the Sword

Henry Dawson couldn’t help but feel a chill run down his spine.

He walked to the edge of the pond and looked down, but it was pitch black—he couldn’t see a thing. Unwilling to give up, he reached his right hand into the water, and an intense cold struck him, as if his very blood was about to freeze.

The moment he touched the pond water, ripples immediately spread out, and the shadow moving along the cliff wall wavered as well.

This was enough to prove that the shadow was indeed being reflected from beneath the water.

Henry Dawson quickly withdrew his hand, his brow furrowing even tighter.

The water was so cold that just a touch nearly froze him solid. If his whole body were submerged, wouldn’t he freeze to death instantly? Strangely, despite being so icy, the water hadn’t frozen over!

Yet someone could walk as if on solid ground beneath the water—how utterly bizarre! And even if they didn’t freeze to death, after so long, how could they not have drowned?

A spirit of adventure surged within him, and curiosity gnawed at him—he truly wanted to dive in and see what was at the bottom of the pond. But reason told him that would be pure suicide!

Henry Dawson was unafraid of danger, but he certainly wasn’t tired of living.

The shadow kept moving, its steps graceful, as if following a unique rhythm. Henry Dawson couldn’t help but focus intently, unconsciously studying and pondering the movements. By the time he realized it, he was already mimicking the shadow’s steps.

Thud!

He tripped and took a solid tumble.

The footwork looked ethereal and divine when performed by the shadow, but when Henry Dawson tried to imitate it, he looked utterly clumsy, like a drunk who couldn’t even walk straight, tripping himself up.

Henry Dawson leapt to his feet, looking at the figure still swaying on the cliff wall. He couldn’t help but wonder: if he used the Nine Forms of Ling Tian, could he strike that shadow on the cliff?

This footwork seemed to possess a spiritual quality—sometimes ahead, sometimes behind—completely elusive!

He must master it!

Henry Dawson set aside his doubts and focused all his attention on the shadow, closely observing its footwork—forward, backward, left, right, turning and shifting, each movement perfectly timed and wonderfully subtle!

He kept deducing the changes, comprehending the mysteries bit by bit.

With every glance, he gained a deeper insight. Henry Dawson couldn’t help but feel ecstatic, a silly grin spreading across his face, his expressions endlessly animated.

Unknowingly, the first rays of morning sunlight shone into the valley, and the shadow on the cliff wall vanished instantly.

Henry Dawson couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, like a child whose favorite toy had been snatched away, full of reluctance. But in the next moment, he felt aching all over, and couldn’t help but plop down on the ground, his whole body feeling as if it had fallen apart.

Practicing that mysterious footwork all night had exhausted him to this extent?

Henry Dawson gazed at the azure sky, a wave of drowsiness washing over him. He soon closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

When he awoke, he felt ravenously hungry, quickly got up, and left the valley to find something to eat.

The cave was so long that it took him nearly two hours to walk out. He was so hungry that he was seeing stars, feeling as if he could swallow an entire cow whole!

After catching a wild rabbit, Henry Dawson quickly found a river to clean it, then started a fire to roast it. After wolfing it down, he patted his belly, a look of deep satisfaction on his face.