Devour: Can you also draw entries from clone projection worlds?

As you look at the detailed list of terms compiled by the system, a slight smile appears on your lips. There are quite a few terms here, especially one blue "elite" term.

You stand up, pick up your sword, and walk to the snow outside the cave. The snow is still falling, the wind is still blowing, and it is still dark.

You raise your sword, close your eyes, and try to unleash your "sword intent".

At first, there was nothing there; you couldn't feel any change. The sword was still the same sword, and your hands were still the same hands.

But this level of progress wasn't enough to make you give up. You tried again and again, and finally, on the seventeenth attempt, you sensed something different.

There seemed to be a faint flow of air at the tip of the sword, but it wasn't wind; it was something indescribable.

The airflow was very faint, so faint that it was almost imperceptible, but it was definitely there.

You open your eyes and look at the sword in your hand. There's nothing on the tip, but you know in your heart that there's something there.

That was a "spirit," a "spirit" flowing from your heart and released through the sword.

It is invisible and intangible, but it can affect people. It can make people panic, make them nervous, and slow down their reactions.

This... is sword intent?!

After carefully contemplating for a while, you sheathed your sword and returned to the cave entrance to sit down.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, turning the entire Cliff of Contemplation white. You looked at the snow-covered mountains in the distance and felt very calm.

Ten years have passed, and you have finally seen hope and found your own path in this world.

This is not Linghu Chong's path, not Feng Qingyang's path, and certainly not Dongfang Bubai's path; it is your own path, a path forged through hardship, perseverance, and countless other means.

[System notification: Projection is still ongoing. The host has accumulated ten years in the world of Swordsman, far exceeding the expected window period. The system has detected that the host's causal relationship with this world is deepening, and the projection's end time may be further delayed.]

The eleventh winter on the Cliff of Contemplation was colder than any previous year.

You wrapped your gray long robe tighter around yourself, sat on the smooth, worn rock at the cave entrance, and watched as the distant mountains were covered layer upon layer with white snow.

The snow has been falling for three days and three nights, and it shows no sign of stopping.

The snow on the mountain path was above knee-deep, and the pine branches were weighed down. Occasionally, a "crack" could be heard, clearly the sound of a branch breaking under the weight.

You have been in this world for a full eleven years.

Eleven years sounds simple, but it actually took more than four thousand days and nights to pass.

Every day you practice swordsmanship, every day you meditate, every day you ponder the sword principles recorded in stone carvings.

Day after day, year after year, it can be so monotonous it could drive you crazy, but you didn't go crazy because you had "perseverance at the beginning".

This term won't make you stronger, faster, higher, or tougher, but it can help you persevere relatively less.

Be patient in the endless boredom, stay focused in the daily repetition, and keep going when everyone else gives up.

This is the value of perseverance.

You reached your hand out of the cave entrance, caught a handful of snow, and put it on your face. The icy feeling made you a little more awake.

You take a deep breath, stand up, pick up the sword leaning against the cave wall, and walk out onto the snow.

Practicing swordsmanship.

No matter how cold the weather, how heavy the snow, or how tired you are, you still practice swordsmanship for two hours every day without fail.

"Sword Heart Clarity • Initial Stage" requires continuous practice to consolidate and improve, while "Sword Intent Emergence" requires repeated practical combat to refine and evolve.

These things can't be improved by just thinking about them; you have to practice, practice day after day, year after year.

The snow is still falling, the wind is still blowing, and you stand in the snow, slowly drawing your sword.

A thin layer of snow settled on the sword, which you flicked away with your wrist.

Close your eyes and feel the weight of the sword, its balance, its breath. No, the sword doesn't breathe, but you can feel something similar to "breathing"—the faint vibrations produced when the sword moves through the air.

It was a wonderful feeling, like the sword had come to life, like the sword was telling you, "I'm going this way."

This is the effect of "Sword Heart Clarity • Beginning". It's not that the sword has truly come to life, but rather that the connection between you and the sword has become deeper.

You can sense every subtle change in the sword—temperature, humidity, wind speed, even the moisture content in the air. These factors all affect the sword's trajectory, and you can sense them and make corresponding adjustments.

You open your eyes and begin practicing swordsmanship.

The first move, "Welcoming Guests from the Pine Tree," involves drawing an arc with the tip of the sword and thrusting it upwards. Snowflakes are swept up by the sword's energy, forming a brief vortex in front of you.

The second move, "White Clouds Emerging from the Mountain Peak," involves swinging the sword horizontally from left to right, leaving a shallow sword mark on the snow, as if something had plowed it.

The third move, "The Phoenix Arrives." The sword tip flicks upward, the blade spins, drawing a perfect circle in the air. At the center of the circle, a snowflake is momentarily frozen by the sword energy before slowly drifting down.

The more you practice, the more skilled you become, and the more absorbed you get. You forget about time, the cold, and where you are.

In your world, there is only the sword, only the sword. The sword is an extension of your body, a manifestation of your will, and an outlet for your soul.

You can make the sword go wherever you want it to go, without the slightest hesitation or hindrance.

This feeling is more addictive than anything else.

After finishing your sword practice, you returned to the cave entrance, sat down to catch your breath, your forehead steaming, your long robe soaked with sweat and clinging to your skin, chilled by the cold wind.

But you don't care; you're already thinking about the agility training in the afternoon.

Just then, you heard a sound, not the sound of wind, not the sound of snow, but the sound of footsteps, very light and steady, with each step being exactly the same distance apart.

You've heard those footsteps before, ten years ago on the back hill.

You look up and see a person walking up the mountain path.

The man was wearing a gray Taoist robe, his hair was casually tied back, and he was carrying a gourd of wine in his hand.

He had a smile on his face, and his eyes were as clear as mountain spring water. Snow fell on him, but he didn't pat it. He just walked up step by step, as if taking a leisurely stroll.

Linghu Chong?!

"Senior Brother?" You stood up, somewhat unable to believe your eyes.

Linghu Chong walked to the cave entrance, looked you up and down, and laughed: "I knew you'd be here. Who else could be on the Cliff of Contemplation besides you?" He handed you his wine gourd, "Want a sip?"

You took the gourd of wine, took a sip, and the wine was still so strong that it made you wince.

Eleven years ago, when you first drank this wine, you thought it tasted awful. Eleven years later, when you drink it again, you still think it tastes awful. Some things cannot be changed by time.

"It doesn't taste good, does it?" Linghu Chong asked with a smile.

"It doesn't taste good," you honestly answer.

"I didn't find it delicious either." Linghu Chong sat down next to you, took the wine gourd back, and took a big gulp. "But you get used to it after a while. Many things in life are like that; you're not used to it at first, but you get used to it after drinking it a lot."

Linghu Chong said the same thing eleven years ago, with the exact same tone, the exact same expression, and the exact same wine gourd.

You felt a moment of disorientation, as if time had reversed.