Immortal of the Ages

Chapter 017 - No Need for Thanks, I'm a Kind Person!

The words of Elder Wu hung in the air, leaving a silence that swallowed the surroundings like a ravenous beast.

"WHAAAT?!" The Third Sword Venerable was visibly shaken, his voice a mixture of disbelief and outrage. His hands found their way to Elder Wu's robes, clutching them tightly. "Say that one more time, will you?" he thundered, his face a canvas of shock and anger.

Elder Wu didn't shrink back, instead, he pounded his chest for emphasis. "The Sword Pavilion has to disband! All these people will have to pack up and vacate this paradise of lush mountains and clear waters! This... this is the main branch of Azure Spirit that has won the championship in the Eight Swords Conclave for a hundred consecutive years. What a piss-poor situation!"

"You idiot!" The Third Sword Venerable slapped him on the forehead, correcting him fiercely, "Don't call them piss-poor! This is a tragedy!"

"Right, right, my mistake," Elder Wu amended hastily, smirking with a sinister grace as he addressed the crowd from the Sword Pavilion. "But the part about the Pavilion disbanding is true."

"It truly breaks my heart!" The Third Sword Venerable said, his voice dripping with mock sorrow. "After they tuck their tails and run, shall I burn three sticks of incense on this mountain as tribute?" Unable to contain himself any longer, he burst into laughter, a cacophony that echoed ominously in the silent surroundings.

"To mourn the youth that the Sword Pavilion will inevitably lose?" he added, his laughter ringing out again, this time joined by the amused chuckles of other members of the Eight Swords Assembly.

In stark contrast, the members of the Sword Pavilion stood frostily, their faces reflecting the icy bitterness within their hearts. They were being humiliated, yet the current frailty of their branch was an undeniable reality, and the Azure Spirit Laws were ironclad. Even as the jeers and laughs pierced their hearts like blades, what could they possibly do against this harsh reality? Read lat𝙚st chapters at nov(𝒆)lbin.com Only

"It's all your fault!" Qin Tong burst out, her eyes blazing with suppressed anger. "It's because you and those despicable fools from the First Sword Peak colluded with the demons in the Northern Wasteland! You caused the death of the seven prodigies of the Sword Pavilion and forced the Sect Master to shatter his sword. Our downfall is your doing, you power-hungry, heartless beings! You are the disgrace of Azure Spirit!"

"Shut your mouth!" Elder Wu snapped back, his face contorted with anger. "You can ingest whatever nonsense you want, but watch your words! Slandering a Sword Venerable and an elder like this, do you want to end up in the Sword Prison?"

"Lil Tong!" A stern voice called out, halting her tirade. Grandpa Qin had spoken. Despite her immense anger and resentment, Qin Tong knew arguing with these people would yield nothing. Their shamelessness knew no bounds. How could they possibly fight back?

"Don't worry too much, Junior Sister Qin." Just then, a burly young man stepped forward from beside the Third Sword Venerable, his features sharp and upright.

"Wu Jianyang!" Qin Tong glared at him, her voice cold as ice.

With a slight smile that held a trace of arrogance, Wu Jianyang said, "I understand your worry is solely about being expelled from the Azure Spirit. But rest assured, after the Sword Pavilion disbands, you can join me at the Third Sword Peak. Become my Dao Partner, and in a few years, we can even pay your grandfather a final tribute together."

"Like hell she will! Go fuck yourself!" Cai Maomao couldn't hold back anymore, his roar echoing in the area. "You should think about giving your own father a proper send-off first!" He couldn't believe the audacity of Wu Jianyang, trying to snatch Qin Tong right in front of him, and with no sincerity at that! His words about paying a final tribute were clearly taunts, nothing more.

As Cai Maomao's words fell, Wu Jianyang turned his gaze on him, a slow, mocking smile unfolding on his face. "You're the brother of the Seventh Prodigy of the Sword Pavilion, Cai Qingyun, aren't you?"

"That's right," Cai Maomao responded defiantly. "The same one who knocked your teeth out all over the place three years ago!"

Wu Jianyang shrugged nonchalantly, his face creasing into a smile that resembled the sinister curl of a cruel weapon. “He really was something, wasn’t he? A pity he didn’t last long,” he remarked with an oily sneer, his voice dripping with faux pity. “To show my utmost respect, I filled his grave-side cup with urine when I ascended the mountain earlier.”

“Wu Jianyang!!” A visceral rage tore through Cai Maomao, igniting his blood and flaring in his eyes—a blatant desecration of the dead was an unforgivable sin. His brother, Cai Qingyun, had always been his role model, his pillar of strength even in death. And now, this contemptuous scoundrel had defiled his memory. Even if the Sword Pavilion had fallen to rock bottom, his brother was a true hero, a figure who was revered as a beacon of valor in the eyes of the people across the thousand nations, a warrior who had laid down his life in battle against demonic creatures.

Cai Maomao couldn't contain his fury any longer. “You have gone too far!” he thundered, his voice echoing like a thunderclap amidst the tension-drenched atmosphere. This was the son of the Third Sword Venerable? His very being oozed nothing but shamelessness and deceit, embodying the nefarious spirit that seemed to plague the members of the Third Sword Peak, from top to bottom. They had come here today specifically to show off their superiority and insult the members of the Sword Pavilion mercilessly.

“Hold your horses,” the Third Sword Venerable chimed in with a smug chuckle, seemingly enjoying the distress that was coursing through the members of the Sword Pavilion. His tone was thick with condescension as he relayed a message from the First Sword Venerable. “He wanted me to tell you all not to panic. If you pledge your loyalty to the First Sword Peak, bringing along the Sword Arts and Daoist Spells of the Sword Pavilion, he'll generously offer you a place in their ranks. After all, you are all just part of Zhao Xuanran's dowry, aren't you?”

Wu Yu, the unscrupulous elder, chimed in with glee, “Don’t fret. Truly, don’t. Just change your affiliations, shake off the old, and you’ll still be a proud Sword Cultivator of Azure Spirit!” His voice echoed with mocking cheerfulness before his face turned sinister. He gazed at the plaque adorned on the mighty gate and spat a glob of thick saliva onto the words Everlasting Noble Spirit with disdain, a gesture symbolizing the humiliation of an ancient legacy.

A sharp crack reverberated through the space as the plaque quivered under the disgrace, an insult that echoed through centuries of honor and glory.

Grandpa Qin’s face twisted grotesquely, his aged eyes filled with bloodshot strands of anguish and wrath. In a surge of bitter fury, he pushed away his beloved granddaughter Qin Tong, charging towards the Third Sword Venerable with clenched fists, ready to fight for the honor of the Sword Pavilion.

However, his advance halted abruptly as a calming hand reached out to restrain him. The familiar face caused the furious elder to freeze in his tracks.

“Yun Xiao?” To everyone’s surprise, it was the newly initiated Yun Xiao who had stepped forward, his demeanor an oasis of calm amidst the tempest of rage and resentment swirling around them. Although he was new and had not yet fully plunged into the intricacies of the sect’s deep-seated grievances, he still had a pressing question that needed to be addressed.

“After hearing so much, I’m left wondering,” Yun Xiao began, his voice clear and steady amidst the turmoil. “Isn’t it true that if we have a Top Sword to lead our disciples in the Eight Swords Conclave, the Sword Pavilion doesn’t need to disband?”

"Right...!" A collective sigh, heavy with the weight of sorrow and disappointment, swept through the gathered crowd as they nodded. The once vibrant place, teeming with talented individuals, was now left barren, a shell of its former glory, drained and deserted after that cataclysmic event that left no one standing. A bleak realization settled amongst them, a dream shattered, leaving nothing but fragments of a once mighty legacy.

"What does it take to be the Top Sword?" Yun Xiao asked earnestly.

"Usually, you need to have reached the Divine Sea Realm, and be under twenty-one years of age! But according to the rules, reaching the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm is enough!" Grandpa Qin gritted his teeth as he relayed the requirements.

Yun Xiao let out a subtle sigh of relief upon hearing this. After an intense half-day standoff, it seemed the solution might be within reach. Taking a step back, he pointed to himself with a grin, stating, "Well, in that case, I'm up for the task!"

"You? Do what?" Grandpa Qin froze, his eyes bulging in disbelief.

"I'll volunteer to be Top Sword. I'm at the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm," Yun Xiao said with a playful gleam in his eye. He had just joined the Sword Pavilion and finally found his place. He wasn't about to let all his efforts go to waste with the dissolution of the place.

The proclamation hung in the air, leaving the elders and disciples of the Sword Pavilion gazing at Yun Xiao, completely baffled.

"Damn! How did I overlook this!" Cai Maomao smacked his head, tears of excitement threatening to escape. He stood beside Yun Xiao, pointing at him emphatically, "I vouch for him, everyone! He's more than capable!"

In the heat of the moment, Yun Xiao had slipped his mind. This young man who had managed to slay Wang Feng with just three strikes, and then kill Elder Yao—how could he not qualify as Top Sword?

"Yun Xiao, you've really reached the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm?" Grandpa Qin finally recollected, his memory stirred.

In reality, Yun Xiao was at the Late Dragon Spring Realm. But no one could gauge the extent of his powers. After all, strength in battle was the true yardstick. A flicker of new hope ignited in the eyes of the Sword Pavilion members. But it was swiftly extinguished by the uproarious laughter from Elder Wu Yu across the way.

"He is in the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm?" Wu Yu could barely contain his laughter.

"What's so funny, Elder Wu?" Wu Jianyang joined in, shrugging his shoulders with a mischievous smile.

"I mentioned to you yesterday, a greenhorn snagged the top spot in the Heavenly Path from the unparalleled prodigy of the First Sword Peak and got sent to the Sword Pavilion... well, that would be our young genius right here," Elder Wu continued, his laughter hardly suppressed.

"Ha!" Wu Jianyang couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Birds of a feather!"

It seemed utterly ridiculous to them that someone who had just climbed the Heavenly Path yesterday could have advanced to the Mid stage of the Dragon Spring Realm today, let alone the Establishment stage.

Hearing this, the Third Sword Venerable couldn't be bothered to toy with them anymore. His demeanor turned frosty as he waved dismissively, "Enough with this futile struggle. I've relayed the message from the First Sword Venerable. The choice is yours to make. But heed this advice. The laws of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect were established by our ancestors. Don't presume I'm merely paying lip service. The consensus was reached yesterday when all seven Sword Venerables gathered. If you can't participate in the Eight Swords Conclave, the Sword Pavilion will be disbanded immediately!"

"Are you deaf?" Grandpa Qin gripped Yun Xiao's arm fiercely, "The Sword Pavilion has a disciple willing to take up the mantle of Top Sword!"

"Are you serious?" The Third Sword Venerable's voice oozed menace.

"Deadly serious!"

"Very well!" The Third Sword Venerable sneered, "The Eight Swords Assembly was specifically established to oversee the Eight Swords Conclave. As its vice-chairman, I have the authority to test the capabilities of the Sword Pavilion's prospective Top Sword. My son, Wu Jianyang, a member of the assembly, is conveniently at the Establishment Dragon Spring Realm as well!"

Yun Xiao looked directly at the Third Sword Venerable for the first time, his gaze unyielding. “Are you saying that if I defeat him, I can lead my fellow disciples, representing the Sword Pavilion, to participate in the Eight Swords Conclave?” he asked, a steel thread of determination in his voice.

"Defeat?" The Third Sword Venerable barely held back a laugh that threatened to burst from him. This was his son, after all, painstakingly raised and groomed, possessing a Comet grade Sword Soul. The very idea of him being defeated seemed laughable. Although he managed to keep a straight face, those standing behind him including Wu Yu and Wu Jianyang, along with other members of the Eight Sword Assembly, failed to contain their amusement.

Yun Xiao remained undeterred. “Venerable, a simple yes or no will suffice,” he stated, his tone verging on impertinence.

The Third Sword Venerable froze, stunned by the audacity of this Sword Pavilion disciple. Did this youngster realize who he was talking to? He was the Third Sword Venerable!

"Father, Elder Wu already mentioned, he's a rare species in the Azure Spirit, a blockhead. You're generous and forgiving, please bear with him and don't lose your temper," Wu Jianyang said, barely able to conceal his snickers.

"Preposterous!" the Third Sword Venerable exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently. His gaze shifted to Elder Wu, seeking confirmation.

Wu Yu, patting his chest confidently, declared, "He's at most the Late Dragon Spring Realm. If he can withstand a single strike from Wu Jianyang, I'll offer my head to the Venerable as a chamber pot."

With a solemn nod, the Third Sword Venerable turned back to Yun Xiao. "You don't have to defeat my son. Just hold your ground against one of his strikes, and the Sword Pavilion will be spared dissolution."

"Thank you, Venerable," Yun Xiao said before leaping to an open space nearby. He turned his piercing gaze towards Wu Jianyang.

“Heh heh..." Wu Jianyang continued to shake his head, his laughter ringing out, mocking and superior.

Both individuals assumed their positions, the ground between them a silent witness to the impending confrontation.

“Junior Brother Yun...” Qin Tong and the others were visibly anxious, their palms sweaty and hearts pounding in their chests.

"It's fine, really! Trust in Junior Brother Yun!" Cai Maomao seized the opportunity to grasp Qin Tong's hand tighter.

Overwhelmed by the tension of the moment, Qin Tong didn't resist. Feeling the softness of her hand, Cai Maomao's tears flowed freely as he murmured silently, “Junior Brother Yun, if you win today, your senior brother will treat you to a grand roast chicken dinner tonight!”

On the open ground, a cold, fierce light flickered in Yun Xiao's eyes. "Senior Brother Wu, shall we begin?" he asked, his voice slicing through the tense silence.

“Shush!” Wu Jianyang raised a finger to his lips, his derisive laugh echoing eerily in the open space. “You think you have the right to call me senior brother?” Before his words could fully dissipate, a whooshing sound filled the air. A white figure burst forward, charging towards him like a bullet.

HUM! The figure's hand swiftly brandished a vibrant azure Sword Soul that erupted with an uncontrolled, chaotic energy, creating a cascade of densely packed sword rays that pierced through the air with a shrieking howl, akin to a fierce storm announcing its presence.

"Hmm?" Wu Jianyang's brows furrowed, a hint of seriousness seeping into his previously mocking demeanor. He retaliated by drawing a fiery red Sword Soul from his own reserves, sending it slashing towards the advancing figure.

CLASH! In a blink, azure and crimson swords clashed, sparking a fierce eruption of fiery embers. At the moment when the Sword Souls intertwined, the once sneering visage of Wu Jianyang twisted in horror. For in that ferocious exchange of blades, his Comet grade Sword Soul emitted a crisp cracking sound, revealing a ghastly azure crevice that looked somewhat like a vein of blood. When the sword soul cracked, the soul trembled.

"Nine-layer Sword Aura!" Wu Jianyang shrieked, his voice mingled with agony and disbelief. Despite having a slight edge in magical power, his Sword Soul seemed as fragile as a wooden blade against an iron sword, being flung away by Yun Xiao's fierce strike.

A shock of pain erupted from the tiger's mouth of Wu Jianyang, his facade of superiority shattered in an instant. Swift as a tempest, Yun Xiao spun around, his sword sweeping across Wu Jianyang's face in a fierce arc.

A gruesome slash! As Wu Jianyang cried out, his mouth was cleaved open, doubling in size and transforming into a grotesque, gaping maw. Splinters of teeth and pieces of his tongue flew about chaotically, evidence of the horrific injury inflicted.

BOOM! With a final, powerful kick, Yun Xiao targeted the space between Wu Jianyang's legs. A thunderous explosion echoed! Crack! The area became grotesquely deformed, and Wu Jianyang's face bloated to a horrific purple hue.

"Ugh-wah!" Wu Jianyang managed, spewing a mouthful of dark blood before being sent flying, ultimately crashing and dangling from a pine tree.

Facing the pitiful sight, Yun Xiao couldn't help but chuckle beneath the tree. His voice resonated with a biting humor as he declared, "Wu Jianyang, you can't even block a casual strike from me. Truly, the term senior brother is wasted on a pathetic waste like you."

Wu Jianyang seemed on the brink of collapse, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, his body engorged and veins bulging angrily. Despite his furious flails, he could only emit choked, soundless cries.

Yun Xiao had widened his arrogant mouth, literally, making it easier for him to spout his nonsense everywhere.

"No need to thank me. I'm just a good guy doing a favor," Yun Xiao taunted, before returning to the midst of the Sword Pavilion members. Facing the elders, he remarked in a casual yet undeniably heroic tone, "A fair duel, won through sheer skill. No issues, right?"

The members of Sword Pavilion stood frozen, their faces a canvas of shock and exhilaration. After a prolonged moment of silence, a wave of euphoria swept over them.

"No! Issues! At! All!" Laughter broke out, a sound filled with mirth and a touch of madness.

It had been three years. Three long years since they felt this exhilarated, especially in the face of those despised individuals.

"Wu Jianyang, how does it feel to be a castrated chicken now?" Cai Maomao couldn't contain himself, hugging Yun Xiao tightly, his laughter ringing loud and joyous. If it weren't for the crowd, he would have planted a big, resounding kiss on Yun Xiao's face without a second thought.

Today, the dark clouds that had lingered for so long were finally dispersed, replaced by clear, jubilant skies. As they all turned to look at the Third Sword Venerable, they saw the bulky figure standing there, his eyes just now turning a frightening shade of red, as if he was just catching up to the shocking turn of events. The arena was charged with an electrifying tension, a prelude to the storm that was yet to come.

In the adjacent area, Elder Wu Yu stood as if struck dumb, a visage of complete disbelief. "No, no, no, no..." The phrase, echoed four times as if one denial couldn't contain his dismay, almost catapulted tears from his eyes. In this moment, his basic reaction was to add fuel to the already raging inferno.

"How dare you, Yun Xiao!" Elder Wu Yu thundered, the veins in his neck bulging with the force of his anger. "Using this test as a pretext, you've brutally attacked the Third Sword Venerable's son. You have committed a capital offense!"

The roar barely left his lips when suddenly, a streak of darkness zoomed in from nowhere in particular, an ominous omen in the form of a black flying sword. Before anyone could make sense of the surreal scenario, it stood menacingly before Wu Yu, as if announcing the arrival of the grim reaper.

"No!" Elder Wu Yu screamed, the sound a symphony of dread and despair. A heart-wrenching squelch resonated as the dark blade found its home, not impaling, but gruesomely decapitating him. With a grotesque artistry, it managed to uproot his head right from the shoulders, leaving a gory spectacle in its wake.

THUD THUD! Blood shot out in gory jets, painting the ground a vivid shade of crimson horror.

CRASH! The macabre sword, with its gruesome trophy impaled, pinned itself to the plaque bearing the inscription Everlasting Noble Spirit, exactly on the spot where Elder Wu Yu had spat out a gob of phlegm just moments before. The black blood dripped ominously, creating a macabre waterfall that cascaded down the plaque.

Elder Wu Yu's eyes, now devoid of life, stared out, refusing to close even in death, as if accusing the world of his brutal end.

An eerie silence enveloped the gathering, a hushed witness to the violent spectacle.

"Uh," Cai Maomao broke the stunned silence. In a heartbeat, he stood at attention, then turned to Yun Xiao and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Stand up straight; Senior Sister Zhao is coming..."