Chapter 61
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Chapter 61: The Sword Emperor’s Resolve
In the depths of the primeval black forest, a free faction warrior stumbled upon a grim scene—corpses clad in black, the earth stained a vivid red. The warrior, with a start, recognized the fallen as members of the Night Clan, traitors to humanity, heretics, and lackeys of demons.
The sight of tens of thousands of bodies and the scarlet soil sent a chill down his spine. It was clear that a fierce battle had taken place here, with the Night Clan decisively defeated. In the air, the warrior sensed an overwhelmingly powerful sword aura. Such domineering and terrifying sword energy could only belong to a select few… This was the handiwork of a Sword Emperor.
Word spread like wildfire, and once again, the world was shaken by the awe-inspiring power of the imperial realm. A Sword Emperor, capable of taking on tens of thousands of foes, was a force of nature. The corpses bore witness to the Sword Emperor’s ruthless methods—decapitated, dismembered, and gruesomely displayed, with chunks of blackened flesh scattered at the base of the cliffs. The scene resembled a battlefield from hell, and many trembled at the thought of the Sword Emperor’s thunderous retribution.
A few days later, in the early morning, Fengyun Wuji walked into the Sword Pavilion with a somber expression, his usually pristine clothes now speckled with blood. Chi Shang greeted him and asked, “Master, what exactly happened?”
Fengyun Wuji, looking weary, replied, “This matter… I will explain it to you all in due time. For now, let it rest.” He then proceeded wearily up to the third floor of the Sword Pavilion.
Alone on the smooth floor of the third level, Fengyun Wuji sat facing the open doors and windows of the Sword Pavilion, lost in thought. A gentle breeze passed through the window, caressing his face and lifting a few strands of hair.
Knock knock knock! The sound of light footsteps approached from downstairs, coming to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the corridor.
“Master, may I come in?” It was Chi Shang’s voice.
“Come in,” Fengyun Wuji sighed.
Chi Shang walked slowly to Fengyun Wuji’s side, squatting down to sit beside him, looking out the window at the gradually brightening sky and the shifting clouds…
“A few days ago, thousands of our disciples from our plane ascended simultaneously and met with disaster!” Fengyun Wuji’s voice was calm, but beneath the surface, there was a hint of agitation and rage.
“What!!” Chi Shang was thunderstruck. They had already noticed the Sword Sect disciple lying in a pool of blood outside the Sword Pavilion, his heart missing from his chest. They had anticipated a catastrophe, but the scale was unimaginable—thousands of disciples had ascended, and of those, only one, severely injured and still unconscious, had made it to the Sword Pavilion. The rest were gone.
“Who could have…?”
“The Night Clan did this, and I have slain them all!” Fengyun Wuji gritted his teeth, his anger still unabated. When that disciple had cried out for help in the night, he had been powerless, forced to watch as the disciple fell. What kind of strength had allowed a man with no heart to fly such a distance, to call out for his help?
He called himself their ancestor, and indeed, in a way, it was true. Their martial arts all stemmed from the “Extermination of Demons Heart Sutra,” making them his disciples, directly or indirectly. But what had he, as their ancestor, done for them?
That disciple, with his heart torn out, had made it here on sheer willpower, pinning all his hopes on his unseen ancestor. But what could he…
Was wiping out the Night Clan enough? Could it bring back the lives of those thousands of disciples? Fengyun Wuji was filled with self-reproach. He might have been weak, hesitant, and indecisive in the past, but no longer.
No longer! Fengyun Wuji stood up, his right hand clenched into a fist, vowing in his heart to never let a single disciple suffer an injustice.
A person might still be able to escape freely, but now, things were different. He was no longer just one person; he was the lord of thousands of Sword Pavilion warriors and the support for tens of thousands, perhaps more, who would ascend from another plane. The burden on his shoulders was heavy, but he was no longer prepared to shirk or retreat.
Fengyun Wuji’s heart was filled with turmoil, waves of invisible sword energy filling the entire space, forcing Chi Shang to retreat.
Quietly, Chi Shang stood at the entrance to the corridor, watching his master, whose clothes fluttered and whose body was surrounded by rampant sword energy. Chi Shang could not understand the resolution his master had made or the changes in his heart, but he distinctly felt the shift in Fengyun Wuji’s aura—a domineering presence, fearless and intrepid…
Gently, Chi Shang retreated, knowing that at this moment, his master needed not the comfort of others but the solitude of silence.
That day, Fengyun Wuji stood quietly on the smooth floor of the third level, facing the land in front of the Sword Pavilion, wordless and thoughtless, as the stars shifted and the moon moved through the night until the next morning. When Fengyun Wuji heard a faint groan, the disciple had finally awakened…
“A single tree cannot hold up the sky!” After a day of contemplation, Fengyun Wuji finally understood and made a silent resolution to gather all the swordsmen of the world, making the Sword Domain a paradise for swordsmen…
Inside the first level of the Sword Pavilion, the newly ascended swordsman, the eldest disciple of the Sword Sect, Xiao Fei, who had been leaning against the tree and gazing at the sky, finally woke up. His eyes were unfocused, and he muttered, “Save them… save them…”
All who heard it felt a pang of sorrow. The first thing this disciple thought of upon waking was not himself but his fellow disciples.
“Wake up, Xiao Fei, this is no longer the wilderness; you are in the Sword Pavilion now,” a Sword Pavilion warrior called softly.
A gentle breeze passed, and Fengyun Wuji appeared by the bedside.
“How is he?”
Upon seeing Fengyun Wuji, Xiao Fei seemed to recall the night of the fierce sword energy and associated it with the legendary identity of the Sword God.
“Ancestor, go save them, save them quickly; they are being slaughtered… Ancestor, you must go!” Xiao Fei spoke urgently, his face full of anxiety.
Everyone turned away, unable to meet Xiao Fei’s eyes.
“They… are all dead…” Fengyun Wuji finally uttered the cruel truth.
“Dead?… No, it’s not possible, my senior, my juniors, the lovely junior sisters, and my master… It can’t be, they can’t be dead. Ancestor Sword God, you are powerful and skilled; you can save them, right?… You must be lying to me, right?”
Fengyun Wuji’s heart ached, but in the end, he still shook his head with difficulty.
“Ah, Master!…” Xiao Fei suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and fell back onto the bed…