Immortal of the Ages

Chapter 029 - Why Cultivate If You're Afraid of Death?

At the Sword Pavilion, under the canvas of a night sky sprinkled with a smattering of stars, a small gathering unfolded.

“Cheers!” There were flickering bonfires, jugs of coarse wine, and faces beaming with laughter. Who could say that the path of immortals was a solitary one? Right here and now, there was camaraderie, the warmth of a fire, a world bustling with life, and hearts filled with sincerity.

"Here's to you, Junior Brother Yun!"

"Cheers to you! I've never respected anyone in this life as much as I respect you!"

"Junior Brother Yun, you were so cool back there! Doing whatever you wanted in front of them!"

...

A man with a face as handsome as a finely crafted jewel sat amidst the group. His eyes held the depth of an ocean filled with stars, and his hair cascaded down like a waterfall. Though his white robe bore stains of blood, the corner of his lips curled up in a slightly inebriated smile. Yun Xiao, with his intoxicated gaze that carried a hint of casual elegance and a manner that was largely leisurely, seemed like an ethereal being who had gracefully descended into the mundane world.

No one would have guessed that this seemingly untarnished young man, only a few hours earlier, had been atop the Conclave Mountain, where he fought fiercely, leaving corpses and blood in his wake, even forcing a Sword Venerable to vomit blood.

Yun Xiao was the picturesque depiction of a Sword Immortal. With a sword in one hand and wine in the other, he soared into the sky, wandering freely in the mundane world.

"Having a sword and wine makes this worldly existence not so dull after all," Yun Xiao mused, his face flushed from the alcohol. He leaned against a tree, humming a tune, embodying the spirit of carefree abandon. Dressed in a white robe and armed with an azure sword, this youthful figure seemed ready to traverse the heavens without perishing like a mere mortal.

"Our Junior Brother Yun is a candid figure on the path of immortality, wielding his sword to make a name at the Conclave, who in the Azure Spirit Sword Sect would dare not to acknowledge him?" Cai Maomao exclaimed boisterously, bolstered by the wine, elevating Yun Xiao to the heavens with his praises.

"Maomao, there's no need for the bootlicking! Everyone can see clearly for themselves."

"It's been three years, and never have we felt as elated as we do today!"

"After witnessing Junior Brother Yun's battle today, even if I were to die now, it would be worth it!"

...

Their admiration for Yun Xiao was palpable, expressed with each bowl of coarse wine they downed.

"Junior Brother Yun, let me toast you again!"

"Come, let's drink!"

"Let's celebrate the victory!"

...

With a smile, the slightly drunken Yun Xiao accepted all toasts without refusal.

"What a forthright fellow!"

"Though Junior Brother Yun is handsome, he's truly a man of substance!"

"Seriously, who describes someone like that?"

"Ha ha..."

...

The banter and laughter continued until the wine ran dry, and they all gathered around Yun Xiao.

"Junior Brother Yun, are you afraid of death?" Cai Maomao asked, his face serious for a moment.

"Why cultivate if you fear death? Might as well go home and farm!" Yun Xiao responded, a drunken laugh escaping him.

"Junior Brother Yun, do you have anyone you're holding onto in this world?" Qin Tong asked, probing gently.

"No, not anymore, haha..." Yun Xiao's laughter faltered and he paused, a sobering thought dawning upon him amidst the jovial atmosphere. Yes, it was gone. The comforting bonds of family ceased to exist after his parents departed this world. The vast human realm, now a silent, terrifying abyss of solitude.

But then, Cai Maomao chimed in, thumping his chest with a reassuring grin, "No worries! If you don't mind, you can always be concerned about your Senior Brother Cai. At the very least, I’ll cover your meals!"

A faint smile broke through Yun Xiao's melancholy demeanor. "Alright, I’ll think about you when I have some time to spare."

Cai Maomao continued, a playful yet sentimental tone in his voice, "And don't forget about Senior Sister Zhao. Today, she protected you like a hen shielding her chicks!"

Qin Tong shot him an irritated glance, snapping, "Who are you calling a hen?"

At the mention of Zhao Xuanran, Yun Xiao's head seemed to sway, his consciousness teetering between the realms of sobriety and intoxication. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings until it settled upon a figure bathed in moonlight at the edge of a cliff—a woman dressed in a black gown, her silhouette a captivating vision amidst the dreamy glow of the moon. She had always been there, just a silent observer amidst the revelry.

"Go on!" Qin Tong urged, giving Yun Xiao a gentle nudge.

With a nod, Yun Xiao made his way over, his steps slightly unsteady. He sat down beside the woman, their shoulders almost touching. As he turned to look at her, the moonlight bestowed a gentle luminescence upon her serene face, her eyes deep and tranquil, reminiscent of the unfathomable sea.

"Why not join us for a drink, Senior Sister?" he asked, the cool night breeze gradually sobering him up. Please visit fr𝐞𝐞w𝒏.𝒸𝑜𝔪 website to read fastest update

Zhao Xuanran didn't respond verbally. Instead, she reached into a small Pouch of Holding she had taken out, her delicate hands soon re-emerging with a petite sword made of dark bone.

"For you," she uttered, handing the sword to Yun Xiao.

"A Sword Heart?" he stuttered, momentarily stunned.

She nodded silently, her gaze fixed on the forest stretched out before them, a gesture of affirmation accompanying her stoic demeanor.

"But this was left to you by your grandfather," he protested, shaking his head.

"Just take it," she insisted.

Yun Xiao hesitated, sensing the immense weight of responsibility that came with the object. This was a legacy, a treasure imbued with the affection and protection of previous generations—not something to be bestowed lightly.

"Understood." Yun Xiao nodded, and in a fluid motion, his Sword Soul pierced through the woman's throat, a dance of death executed with chilling efficiency.

"You... You promised..." The woman's eyes widened in shock and betrayal, her face a canvas of disbelief and despair as she gazed at him.

"Yeah, I did. So what?" Yun Xiao replied, his voice as cold as the blade he wielded.

The woman could offer no response, her life rapidly ebbing away. Moments later, she collapsed limply onto Yun Xiao's sword, her body gradually dissipating into a thick smog.

"Not a Sword Cultivator, no Sword Soul to harvest," Yun Xiao muttered, tapping her skeletal remains with his Sword Soul. His investigation yielded nothing, fueling his mounting frustration. He hastily searched through her attire, his anger boiling over when he found her possessions lacking.

"Not even a single item of value on her!" His temper flared even more, noting the absence of any Spirit Stones, and consequently, any Heavenly Dao Sariras. He couldn't help but begrudgingly admire the assassins' code. To steal wealth but never allow one's own wealth to be stolen!

No Sword Soul meant no increase in his Sword Aura layers, and without a night's cultivation, his realm wouldn't improve. What was he to do the next day?

"There's worse news..." Blue Star chimed in suddenly, its voice weak and fading.

BOOM! Unable to maintain its form, the bronze coffin spat Yun Xiao out, morphing into a flat brick in the process. On its surface, a pair of lackluster eyes blinked back, one set blue, the other red.

"What happened?" Yun Xiao asked, baffled.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? We're drained!" Blue Star spat, its irritation seeping through.

"So easily?" Yun Xiao couldn't hide his disbelief.

"What did you expect, maintaining this form is no easy feat!" Blue Star snapped back.

"Wahhh, I'm so hungry! I feel like I'm going to starve!" Red Moon wailed pitifully.

Yun Xiao could only sigh, his plans for a counterattack and a swift escape dashed to bits. Not only had he gained nothing, but he'd also lost his little protector in the process. "At least I didn't use the Sword Heart, or the loss would have been monumental," he ground out through clenched teeth.

He wanted to sit down and cultivate, to at least salvage something from this disaster, but his rising anger prevented any form of concentration. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

"Damn it all! As if sending someone to assassinate me wasn't enough, they couldn't even send a Sword Cultivator, and not a dime on her!" His words echoed bitterly in the emptiness, his simmering fury a stark contrast to the serene night that surrounded them.

Incensed, utterly insufferable! In a sudden surge of fury, Yun Xiao sprang to his feet, yanking out the Sword Heart given to him by Zhao Xuanran.

"What in the world are you planning to do?" Blue Star inquired, an edge of worry in his voice.

"I can't stomach this indignity!" Yun Xiao exclaimed, his face flushed with anger.

Blue Star was taken aback for a second before he remarked, somewhat incredulously, "My man, you've already killed the assassin. What are you still angry about?"

Yun Xiao glared, his voice simmering with unrestrained fury. "That woman didn't even have a strand of hair on her worth looting! What's the difference between having killed her and not?"

Blue Star didn't have a response, its face a mask of bewilderment.

"No, this won't stand!" Yun Xiao declared, his gaze steely. "I've been taken advantage of. If I don't spill some blood tonight, I won't be able to concentrate on my cultivation!"

His fierce eyes fell on the Sword Heart resting in his palm. A wicked grin stretched across his face as he mused, "Who said this thing is only good for saving one's skin?"

The object in his hand was not just any ordinary item. It was a Sword Heart, a lethal weapon passed down from Zhao Xuanran's ancestor, capable of delivering a fatal blow.

Holding the Sword Heart in one hand and the Heaven Burial Sword Soul in the other, an idea suddenly flashed through Yun Xiao's mind. He brought the Sword Heart closer to the Sword Soul. Instantly, thick tendrils of blue mist erupted from the Sword Soul, reaching towards the Sword Heart like seeking tentacles, causing the latter to tremor as if on the verge of disintegration.

"What is this...?" Yun Xiao gasped, his eyes widening in shock, a wild glint of realization taking over.

"I can't take this anymore!" He yelled out, throwing caution to the wind. His white robes fluttered as he disappeared into the dark forest, leaving nothing but a trail of dust in his wake.

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Meanwhile, atop the Third Sword Peak lay the Red Molten Pavilion, the lavish residence of the Third Sword Venerable, Wu Wu. Situated at the very summit of the main peak, the mansion was adorned with numerous fiery red lanterns that cast a warm, illuminating glow in every corner. At its entrance stood two golden lions, each towering at ten feet tall, exuding an aura of dominance and grandeur. Besides these, the pavilion boasted countless pillars and towers, adorned with precious gems and spiritual stones, rivaling even the splendor of a mortal emperor's palace.

At this very moment, inside the Red Molten Pavilion, over a dozen individuals gathered for a discussion. The Third Sword Venerable presided at the head of the table, flanked by others on both sides. A jade platform lay before each individual, laden with an array of fine wines and delicacies, resembling a grand banquet in a golden palace.

Amongst the attendees were Wu Wu's wife and siblings, along with a host of offspring, including the notable Wu Jianxiong, who was slated to participate in the Grand Conclave. Along with Ye Tianyuan, the two were the only disciples who had achieved the Mid Divine Sea Realm in the upcoming battle!

Today, the atmosphere within the Red Molten Pavilion was rather somber due to the untimely demise of Wu Wu's younger son, Wu Jianyang. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent testament to the gravity of the situation at hand.

"It's over!" Wu Wu suddenly proclaimed, his voice slicing through the stifling atmosphere of the room.

All eyes pivoted towards him, an anticipatory hush falling over them.

With an icy glare, he continued, "At this very moment, that Yun Xiao is meeting a slow and painful death. This news should bring peace to Lil Yang in the afterlife. We need not worry any longer. Let's all look ahead, shall we?"

"Even so, I'd give anything to watch Yun Xiao die a horrific death with my own eyes!" Wu Jianxiong interjected with a cruel smile, the venom in his voice palpable.

Wu Wu's wife chimed in, her voice laden with spite, "I feel we owe it to Lil Yang to at least land another blow, to make sure the job is done right."

Wu Wu's voice hardened, "The Azure Spirit Sword Sect has distinguished guests at the moment. We must exercise restraint. A murder is acceptable, but we must avoid causing a scene at all costs."

One of Wu Wu's younger sons spoke up, a gleeful cruelty dancing in his eyes, "Dad, once the guests have left, can we kill a few more of those Sword Pavilion weaklings?"

"Getting rid of the Sword Pavilion sooner rather than later would surely secure us a piece of the blessed lands," another chimed in with a grin, clearly enjoying the thought.

The conversation spiraled into a fever pitch of ruthless ambitions and grievances, each person seemingly more eager than the last to spill blood and secure power. Wu Wu finally lifted his head, addressing his most prized son, Wu Jianxiong, "Our immediate priority should be to secure the second place in the upcoming Grand Conclave, further establishing the prominence of our Third Sword Peak."

"Yes, father!" Wu Jianxiong responded, his eyes brimming with unyielding confidence.

"To the Wu Family, cheers!" Wu Wu raised his cup high.

"Cheers!" echoed the crowd, rising to their feet in a toast of unity and resolve. They downed their drinks, a collective smirk of cold satisfaction playing across their faces.

But at that very moment, a young man adorned in white appeared at the doorway, his presence ghostly and unsettling. He took in the gilded magnificence of the Red Molten Pavilion, the feast laid out before these conspirators. His fury burgeoned, fuelled by the glaring disparity between the opulence before him and the justice he sought.

"Are you all done with your drinks?" The young man gritted through clenched teeth, anger radiating from him in palpable waves. His voice carried a simmering rage, a stark contrast to the cold, calculating cruelty displayed by the occupants of the room.

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