Chapter 019 - Return of a Hero's Spirit (2)
Deep into the night, eight young Sword Cultivators sat side by side on a cliff of a solitary peak, letting the cool night breeze caress their faces. The night was graced by a shy moon and sparse stars, while crows flew south in the distance. Before them, the mountains and rivers bore the ink-like darkness, and thousands of trees seemed like specters in the gloom.
Yun Xiao sat at a corner, his eyes tranquil yet deep as an ocean. His side profile, illuminated by the moonlight, depicted a celestial being gracing the earthly realm, with features carved from the finest jade and eyes reflecting the vast cosmic sea.
"It's a good thing that Junior Brother Yun became a disciple under the Sect Master's wing," Qin Tong said, her gaze lingering on Yun Xiao.
"What use is this status?" Yun Xiao asked.
"It grants you a position higher than the disciples of Sword Venerables and even the elders. They must show you respect in public gatherings," Qin Tong explained.
"What about compared to a Sword Venerable or a Swordking?" Yun Xiao probed further, the moonlight casting a gentle glow on his face.
"Of course, it's a little lower," Qin Tong replied.
Yun Xiao grasped the gravity of his new position. His elevation within the Azure Spirit Sword Sect was nothing short of meteoric. Within a day of arriving, he had become the most esteemed disciple in the sect. Without the acclaimed title of Swordking, Ye Guying would find himself surpassed by Yun Xiao's current stature. Jiang Yue, a student of the Sword Venerable, couldn't hold a candle to him now.
"So, the disciples of the Sect Master are the main disciples of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect. How many are there now?" Yun Xiao asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
A slight hesitation weighed on Qin Tong's features as she bit her lower lip softly before answering, "Nine in total." Her voice carried a mix of reverence and sorrow, like an ode to the fallen heroes.
Cai Maomao chimed in, albeit a little slurred from intoxication, "Only you and Senior Sister Zhao are still alive..." He leaned heavily onto Qin Tong's shoulder, his demeanor a stark contrast to the solemnity of the conversation.
These cherished individuals, known collectively as the Sword Pavilion Seven, held the prestigious rank of the Sect Master's disciples.
Qin Tong tried to maintain her serious fa?ade, addressing Yun Xiao formally, "As a disciple of the Sect Master, only the Sect Master has the authority to punish you, should you transgress."
Yun Xiao nodded knowingly, an almost cheeky grin spreading on his face, "So, no punishment then."
Everyone knew the Sect Master was in a deep slumber, a stasis that left the sect without its guiding force.
"Exactly. As long as you don't meet your end in a life-or-death duel you're virtually untouchable," Qin Tong affirmed, her tone carrying an unspoken weight of expectation and belief.
The conversation turned somber as they discussed the vicious competitiveness and internal strife within the Azure Spirit Sword Sect. Yun Xiao listened attentively, piecing together the complex dynamics of the place he now called home. With a quizzical furrow of his brows, he voiced his confusion, "Isn't Azure Spirit one unified sect? Why is the internal competition so fierce?" Emerging from n0v@lbin☆, this material harbors clandestine details.
Qin Tong shook her head, sadness tinting her normally bright eyes. She recounted the turbulent history of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect, a place that wasn't always unified but born from the fierce competition of eight rival factions of Sword Cultivators. When a surge of spiritual energy transformed their forest into a haven, a brutal fight for control ensued, staining the land with blood and vengeance. Unable to dominate individually, they united, forming a precarious alliance governed by the Laws of Azure Spirit. This uneasy coalition still bore the scars of its violent birth, fostering both unity and enmity between different factions.
Yun Xiao absorbed this narrative, understanding now why the Third Sword Venerable was so intent on dismantling the Sword Pavilion, a faction holding the most coveted land within the sect. The night around them seemed to darken, mirroring the complex and sometimes brutal history of their sect. A newfound understanding settled within him, a blend of sadness and determination to navigate the turbulent waters that lay ahead. No wonder the Seventh Sword Peak didn't dare to take him in. Crossing Jiang Yue and the First Sword Peak meant a lot of people would end up dead. This wasn't child's play!
But Yun Xiao had another nagging question. "What happened to my master?" he asked, turning his gaze to the group of seven young Sword Cultivators standing before him. The moment the question hung in the chilling night air, the gentle autumn breeze seemingly turned bitter and colder.
Yun Xiao remained silent, the weight of the moment bearing heavily on him, before slowly shaking his head. In his time at the capital of Cloud Nation, he had witnessed the cruelty of serpent demons tormenting the people. Back then, he couldn't have fathomed that the noble Sword Cultivators of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect would stoop to such disgraceful depths.
Qin Tong, with tear-streaked face, pressed on, her voice brimming with a fiery mix of sadness and anger. “For centuries, despite the infighting within Azure Spirit, we never once strayed from our sacred duty of slaying demons and vanquishing evil. Everyone knew that if the Azure Spirit Sword Sect crumbled, a horde of demons would swarm the south, enslaving or slaughtering us all. Throughout our history, no one has ever committed acts so disgraceful, so vile!
“And yet Ye Tiance, the Sword Venerable of the First Sword Peak, and Ye Guying, they did just that!” Qin Tong cried. Had they danced with the demons without fearing their retribution? This was a question only they could answer. Why did the serpent demons of the Cloud Nation listen to Ye Guying’s commands?
“What was their ultimate explanation?” Yun Xiao asked, biting his lip, the taste of anger and injustice mingling on his tongue.
“They simply named a small hill Dark Abyss Mountain and claimed that the Sect Master had simply misunderstood, tragically leading them to the wrong location,” Qin Tong said, her voice trembling between sobs and laughter at the absurdity of the lie.
Yun Xiao found himself disillusioned. He had thought the world was complex, but stepping onto the path of cultivation had opened his eyes to new depths of shamelessness.
“For centuries, despite the internal struggles, the Sword Pavilion and the Seven Sword Peaks followed a fundamental rule. In the face of demonic threats, we must stand united!” Qin Tong declared, her voice ringing with the force of her conviction. “Ye Tiance became the first despicable being to break our ancestral teachings, and one day, he will pay the price!”
Overwhelmed by grief and anger, Cai Maomao sobered up. He clutched Yun Xiao’s hand, weeping openly. “Junior Brother Yun, their bodies may have perished, but their souls were absorbed into the Bluedrop Flag by the demonic forces of the Northern Wastelands. They cannot find peace, even in death!
“The flag still stands on Dark Abyss Mountain, a tool for the Northern Demon Emperor to torment their souls, a symbol of our sect's disgrace!
“For three years, I’ve harbored this hatred, furious at my own powerlessness. I despise my inability to annihilate those beasts at the First Sword Peak, to ascend Dark Abyss Mountain and eradicate the demons, to bring my brothers home. Oh, how I hate...” Cai Maomao gritted his teeth. The agony of hatred and the bitterness of alcohol churned like a tumultuous sea within him.
The bravery of the Sword Pavilion Seven was legendary. But now, even in death, they couldn't find peace. Yun Xiao, who had faced death once, knew the anguish of a soul in torment. For three years, the seven were trapped in the Bluedrop Flag on Dark Abyss Mountain. He could imagine the suffering. To think that these dignified Sword Cultivators had been reduced to mere toys, their souls ensnared within a flag, was a humiliation beyond measure. Where was the honor of the Azure Spirit? It seemed few cared anymore.
“After that day, Ye Tiance and Ye Guying no longer hid their wolfish ambitions,” Qin Tong murmured, the darkness of betrayal etched deeply into her words. Before, they must have played the part of moral and upright leaders. But now, it was clear that with the fall of the Sword Pavilion's stalwarts, the First Sword Peak was quick to kick them while they were down, revealing their true, despicable colors. Threats, bribes, bloodsucking!
And so, the Sword Pavilion was sucked dry. Three years went by and only eight young souls remained, stalwart defenders of this sacred place.
“This time, at the Eight Swords Conclave, we can perish, but the Sword Pavilion must endure!” Cai Maomao declared, rising to his feet with a newfound determination, his gaze fixated towards the north, where death seemed a welcoming companion.
“Why?” Yun Xiao asked, his voice a beacon of calm amidst the impending storm.
“I’m scared!” Cai Maomao confessed, an honesty as raw as a fresh wound.
“Scared of what?”
“Scared that even if my brother’s soul returns, he won't find his way home.” Tears streamed down Cai Maomao's face, a waterfall of grief and fear cascading unbridled. That's why the Sword Pavilion needed a Top Sword. Yun Xiao must not die! Their seven pairs of eyes turned in unison towards Yun Xiao, a silent vow echoing in the tense air.
“Junior Brother Yun, rest easy. The day after tomorrow, at the Eight Swords Conclave, even if we have to lay down our lives, we will protect you!”
Yun Xiao took a deep breath, absorbing the weight of the burden placed upon him. “You’re thinking too small,” he suddenly uttered, words heavy yet untamed.
“What?” Cai Maomao froze, unable to grasp his meaning.
“To live a life, what is the point of seeking safety?” Yun Xiao looked towards the north, his eyes harboring a storm of resolve. “Just wait. The day after tomorrow, your Junior Brother Yun will make you all soar!”