"Keep close. Baizhen Pavilion has more eyes along the East Sea than there are crabs on the beach." The old man of the sea's voice was torn ragged by the wind, his dragon-headed cane tapping a steady rhythm against the damp cobblestones, each strike sending faint ripples of spiritual energy spreading outward.

I followed close behind, the meteorite-iron anvil and wave-cleaving blade in my canvas pack growing hotter by the moment, as though they sensed something ahead. We rounded three bends, and the path suddenly opened up — a hidden cove ringed by coral reefs appeared before us. At its heart, a platform of colossal shells and black jade floated suspended above the water, nine stone pillars carved with wave patterns standing at its center. Wisps of spiritual energy flowed between the pillars like something solid, forming a slowly rotating vortex.

"This is... a Spirit-Eye Gathering Array?" I couldn't help but gasp. The spiritual energy was so dense it might almost have condensed into dewdrops; every breath sent a cool freshness washing through my cinnabar field, ten times more potent than the jade pool back at Listening-to-Waves Lodge.

The old man stepped onto the shell platform and touched the tip of his cane to the central pillar. "The Demon-Demon Suppression Bureau spent enormous effort building this thing over a spirit eye all those years ago. Nowadays it's little more than an empty shell." As he spoke, he casually tossed out three mid-grade spirit stones, which clicked neatly into the grooves of the pillars. "Activating the Gathering Array requires the primal force of the spirit eye. If you want that blade and anvil of yours to fuse, without this thing anchoring the process, they'll shatter in seconds."

I carefully withdrew the meteorite-iron anvil and the wave-cleaving blade. The dark-gold talisman script on the anvil was dim and lightless, the sword-shaped engravings that had once been so crisp nearly invisible; the wave patterns on the blade had dried out like a cracked riverbed, and the fractures along the edge trembled faintly within the spiritual energy vortex, as though they might shatter completely at any moment.

"System — pull up the specific method for repairing a spiritual treasure." I recited the words in my mind, and the bronze ring on my palm suddenly burned hot.

A pale-blue system panel unfurled before my eyes, and the elder's holographic projection crossed his arms and gave a hmph. "Knew you'd come crawling to me sooner or later. Pay attention. Repairing a spiritual treasure has three steps: refinement, spirit-drawing, and fusion. Your blade and anvil are unusual — you'll need to use the spirit-eye spring water to wash away the remaining baleful corruption, then use the Tide Saint Body Art to guide the spiritual energy and re-forge the engraved patterns. And finally..." He paused abruptly, the brows of his projection knitting into a tight knot. "The final step carries extreme risk. You'll need to use your own spiritual energy as a bridge, forcing the Patriarch of the Dao's sword-intent and the water-element spirit-resonance into harmony. If it goes wrong, you and the treasure are both destroyed."

"Both destroyed?" My eyelid twitched. "Is there a backup plan?"

"A backup?" The elder sneered. "Did you think fusing spiritual treasures was a children's game? Either you stake it all, or you take these two lumps of scrap iron home to chop vegetables."

The old man had drifted over at some point and was running his fingertip along the fractures in the wave-cleaving blade. "Years ago I tried using the Gathering Array to repair a spiritual implement. The failure rate was over seventy percent." He suddenly produced a gourd from inside his robe, yanked out the stopper, and poured out a shimmering pool of liquid. "This is spirit-eye spring water — a hundred times purer than what's in the jade pool. Let's give your treasures a bath first."

The moment the spring water dripped onto the anvil and blade, strange things happened. Black tendrils of qi seeped from the meteorite-iron anvil; dark-red beads of blood oozed from the cracks in the wave-cleaving blade. The system alert chimed sharp and clear: Ding! Baleful corruption energy and water-cultivator residual soul detected. Cleansing in progress.....

The old man gestured for me to sit cross-legged. "Circulate the Tide Saint Body Art. Use your spiritual energy to guide the spring water into the engravings. Remember — be as gentle as if you were coaxing a child to sleep."

I did as he said. The spiritual energy of my mid-stage ninth layer of Qi Refinement flowed out slowly, wrapping around the spirit-eye spring water and seeping into the treasures. The dark-gold talisman script on the anvil, like parched earth finally drinking rain, gradually began to glow; the wave patterns on the blade shimmered back to a moist lustre — yet the fractures along the edge remained jagged and fierce.

"Refinement alone isn't enough." The old man pressed three gathering-spirit stones into my palm. "The Gathering Array's spiritual energy is too powerful. You'll need to use these stones as a buffer — feed the energy to them bit by bit."

I gripped the gathering-spirit stones, and spiritual energy surged through them into the anvil and blade. The process was far harder than I had imagined. The Patriarch of the Dao's sword-intent inside the anvil raged like a wildfire; the water-cultivator spirit-resonance within the wave-cleaving blade repelled everything like a wall of black ice. The two forces collided violently across the bridge of my spiritual energy, the impact traveling up my arms until they went numb.

End of Chapter 47: The Hidden Cove