Every time he recalled it, Edward Grant's hatred toward Arthur Grant and Grace Grant deepened. He pointed his finger at the heavens, gritted his teeth, and made a solemn vow.

Although Edward Grant was only speculating, he was absolutely certain in his heart that Arthur Grant had taken his grandfather Henry Grant hostage. Otherwise, Charles Grant was his most favored son, and Edward Grant was his most beloved eldest grandson—how could he have suddenly changed his mind for no reason, stripped Charles Grant of his position as heir to the family head, and ruthlessly tried to kill Edward Grant and his father?

And as for who could have taken Henry Grant hostage and caused Arthur Grant's strength to skyrocket, apart from that mysterious figure from who knows where, the one who defeated Charles Grant with a single sword strike—‘Grace Grant’—who else in the world could have done it?

Clang...

A melodious bell rang out from the foot of the front mountain.

Edward Grant looked up at the sky; the moon had already risen directly above his head.

It was midnight. The bell was the last one of the day, reminding any disciples still awake that it was time to sleep. In another half hour, the outer sect stewards would begin their nightly rounds to check on the outer sect disciples.

Edward Grant wiped the sweat from his forehead, left over from practicing swordsmanship earlier. As he recalled the hardships of the past fourteen years, his anger toward Arthur Grant surged, his body grew hot, and he only sweated more.

“A hundred meters to the east, there’s a pond. Wash up, go down the mountain to sleep, and continue sword practice tomorrow night. Strive to surpass William Bolton as soon as possible.”

Edward Grant headed east, passed through a small grove, and soon arrived at the edge of a pond.

At this moment, the moon hung above the pond, casting a perfect reflection in the water—a large, round moon resting right in the center of the pond.

“Huh—?”

Edward Grant frowned and exclaimed in surprise, “Why is there something inside the moon?”

Looking up, the full moon in the sky was spotless and pure.

Edward Grant looked down again at the moon’s reflection in the pond, and sure enough, there was a dark shadow piercing the moon.

“That is...” Edward Grant stared intently for a while and said, “A sword?”

Indeed, the surface of the pond was calm and rippleless, and Edward Grant could see clearly: in the moon’s reflection at the center of the pond, a sword was stuck upright.

...

There was actually a sword in the pond?

Edward Grant had come to this pond many times. Every time he finished sword practice and worked up a sweat, he would come here to bathe before heading down the mountain to sleep.

His meridians were damaged, and his talent was about average. If he wanted to stand out and take revenge, he had to work harder than anyone else—only then would he have hope.

Other disciples only saw that Edward Grant had the cultivation of a fourth-level martial artist and could challenge those at the fifth level, but they didn’t see the extra hour or two he spent every day practicing swordsmanship.

“Is the sword in the pond just an ordinary sword someone tossed away, or is it a treasured sword someone lost?”

A thought instantly arose in Edward Grant’s mind to dive to the bottom of the pond and investigate.

If it was just an ordinary sword, it wouldn’t matter. But if it was a treasured sword, that would be a huge windfall.

Weapons in Shenzhou are divided into four ranks: Heaven, Earth, Profound, and Yellow. Each rank has upper, middle, and lower grades, making twelve grades in total.

Yellow-rank weapons are all ordinary, while Heaven, Earth, and Profound ranks are treasures.

The reason is simple: Yellow-rank weapons are forged by blacksmiths, while the other three ranks are crafted by Shenzhou’s most esteemed weapon forgers.

Every weapon forger is a blacksmith, but not every blacksmith is a weapon forger. Blacksmiths are as common as cattle in Shenzhou, but weapon forgers are as rare as phoenix feathers.

A lower-grade Profound-rank sword can greatly enhance a swordsman’s strength and is worth at least hundreds of thousands of taels of gold, equivalent to several million taels of silver.

The Huang family had settled in North Desert City and didn’t have much wealth on hand. Now, after more than three years, their household was still quite poor. If they had several million taels of silver, the Huang family could quickly grow and prosper.

Even an ordinary sword—a lower-grade Yellow-rank sword—was worth dozens of taels of silver; a middle-grade Yellow-rank sword, several hundred taels; an upper-grade Yellow-rank sword, several thousand taels. If the sword contained special metals and was a famous sword just below the level of a treasure, it could even be worth tens of thousands or over a hundred thousand taels of silver.

Splash—

Edward Grant immediately leaped into the pond.

“So cold...”

Edward Grant couldn’t help but shiver; the water was unbelievably cold.

It was August, the height of summer, and Edward Grant came to this pond almost every night. Just a few nights ago, the water had felt wonderfully refreshing, but tonight it was bone-chilling.

Still...

“For the sword... for the silver... I’ll risk it...!”

Edward Grant clenched his chattering teeth, made up his mind, held his breath, and dove toward the bottom of the pond.

The pond was quite deep; Edward Grant had never dived to the bottom before.

Now, not only was the water icy cold, but holding his breath for so long was also very uncomfortable.

But Edward Grant was not someone who gave up easily. Enduring the cold and gritting his teeth, he continued diving toward the bottom.

After diving down several dozen meters, Edward Grant finally reached the bottom. Immersed in the water, he could no longer see the moon’s reflection, but in the center of the pond bottom, there seemed to be the shadow of a sword, slanting into the earth.