Sword of Coming

The little boy was utterly terrified, so much so that he became numb to fear. He was the only person left in the world, lonely and without support. The little boy had only read a few elementary books for children, so he naturally didn't understand the concept of making a compromise. His face was filled with hatred as he gritted his teeth and asked, "What's your name?"

There was an amused smile on the old man's face.

"I'll definitely kill you in the future! I'm going to exact revenge for my parents and my grandparents!" the little boy added.

The old man wearing a silver lotus flower hat pointed at himself and chuckled, "What's my name? People in the world all like to refer to me as Old Demon Ding. This goes for both righteous cultivators and demonic cultivators.

"In fact, cultivators from demonic forces might even use the respectful title of Paramount Leader when they see me. As for my actual name, it's Ding Ying. However, it's already been many years since I've used this name."

The old man then asked, "So, what's your name then?"

The little boy's voice was quivering, yet he still tried to speak as loudly as possible as he replied, "Cao Qinglang!"

"You're really taking advantage of things with that name, aren't you?" Old Demon Ding said in amusement.[1] "Add to that your physique, and you really need to be careful of being beaten up by others when you travel around the cultivation world in the future."

Old Demon Ding casually flicked his sleeve, causing fierce winds to rush into the paper windows of the side room. There was a loud whooshing sound, yet the thin paper windows were surprisingly unharmed. It was as if something were pushed out of the side room.

Cao Qinglang naturally couldn't comprehend such kinds of profoundly mystical techniques, so he could only retort the old man with a livid expression, shouting, "Bullshit!"

His entire family had been killed, so the name given to him by his parents became his last link to them.

Old Demon Ding paid no heed to this, and he instead turned his gaze to the old hens pecking at the ground in the courtyard.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, scooping up some rice before returning to his seat in the side room. He then casually scattered the rice on the ground, causing the chickens to quickly flap their wings and rush over, delightedly pecking at the rice.

"People in the world all fear me. However, look at them. They don't fear me," Old Demon Ding said with a smile.

He bent down and leaned slightly forward, asking, "Does this mean that the so-called elites, grandmasters, generals, and emperors are all inferior to measly chickens?"

Cao Qinglang was far too young, and his mind was also flooded with thoughts of revenge. That being the case, how could he possibly be willing to mull over such a question? He simply glared at the demonic cultivator who had ruthlessly killed his family. He blamed himself for not being strong enough to do anything.

A thought suddenly occurred to Cao Qinglang, and he recalled that there was still a hatchet in the kitchen. However, the hatchet hadn't been used or sharpened much. His house was in the capital, and his family could also be regarded as quite well-off. They were wealthy enough to stop those people who hollered and sold charcoal from their cow-drawn carts. Thus, the hatchet in the kitchen was mostly just for show.

Old Demon Ding looked up at the sky and answered his own question, saying, "Of course not. It's simply a case of the ignorant being fearless. Sometimes, the rats in the fields will hurriedly protect the grains in their paws when a mighty eagle flies past overhead.

"There aren't many people like this in our world, but there aren't few of them either. They're not much better than mortal humans, but they can at least see that threatening shadow. For example, Yu Zhenyi from Pine Song Nation who transitioned to cultivation, the old chef in the prince's residence in your Southern Garden Nation, and that old lecturer monk from the Vajra Temple."

Ding Ying stood up after saying this, shaking his two sleeves and lightly flicking his fingers, causing bursts of astral energy to condense into silk-like strings and fly toward the window of the side room.

His movements were far too quick, and the wisps of dark green astral energy were like shimmering stars as they continued to accumulate near the window. It was as if a dazzling picture of the galaxy were materializing in the side room.

"There are also some outsiders in our world. Those who come harbor ill intentions, while those who harbor good intentions don't come. We refer to these people as otherworldly immortals. They come to our world as if they're playing a game, and they arrive and leave just as quickly as a passing comet. As for what happens to this world, and regarding how much trouble they've caused and how dire the situation becomes, these otherworldly immortals don't care about this at all.

"They couldn't care less about the joys, sorrows, reunions, and partings in this world."

Ding Ying smiled and feigned turning the page of a book. He then lightly clapped his hands together as if closing the imaginary book, saying, "It's as if these people read a page of some trivial book during their spare time—an entirely insignificant matter. They don't care what's written on the page, whether that be crumbling etiquette, rivers of blood, or misery and death.

"There was a clan of etiquette with a thousand-year history, and this was a clan that had a sagely residence that contained the pleasant fragrance of books. However, a freakish descendant appeared and completely soiled the reputation of this clan.

"There was a small and isolated nation that produced a wildly ambitious emperor. He had no understanding of military affairs, yet he insisted on recklessly deploying all of his troops to start war after war. Within twenty years, half of the young men in his nation had already perished."

Being such a young child, Cao Qinglang naturally didn't understand any of these things. He was still consumed by hatred and thoughts of revenge, so he exclaimed, "Then what did you do?"

The little boy from the small alley choked with sobs and said, "You only know how to kill my mom and dad and my grandparents..."

There was grief and indignation in his voice as he shouted, "Do you think you're a gallant hero or something? No, you're an irredeemably heinous demon!"

As if purposely mocking Cao Qinglang, Ding Ying also started to wail in grief. However, he quickly broke into loud laughter.

Was he being childish, or was he simply deranged?

Cao Qinglang shook with anger.

Ding Ying chuckled and replied, "Truth be told, what do the actions of those otherworldly immortals have to do with me? They have absolutely nothing to do with me. I simply use their actions as an excuse to kill people. To kill some fairly interesting people."

The old man raised his arm and straightened his palm as if it were a saber. He then slashed down again and again as if he were making minced meat, saying, "One otherworldly immortal, two otherworldly immortals, three, four... I'll hack all of them to death. Apart from them, there are also those so-called Upper Ten Elites as well as the weaker Lower Ten Elites. If they're interesting, then I'll allow them to live. If they're an eyesore, however, then I'll kill them as well."

Cao Qinglang continued to sob.

Ding Ying glanced up at the sky. This time, things were slightly different than sixty years ago.

It was because of this that he had chosen to stay here instead of personally going over to fight. He hadn't gone crazy, after all, so he naturally wouldn't attempt to challenge nine or even more top-notch elites all by himself. Someone had attempted this sixty years ago, aspiring to claim all of the martial fortune of the world for themself. However, they had suffered a very brutal loss.

If the young owner of that flying sword managed to survive and become an unexpected surprise in everyone's eyes...

...Then Ding Ying would leave this place when the time was right and make it such that the surprising young man was no longer a surprise.

Ding Ying was aware that this world was much like a cage to raise poisonous insects.

There was a secret hidden deep inside the old man's heart, one that no one else knew about. In order to unravel the mystery of this world, there was only a single thing that he cared about. What would happen if he rendered useless the sixty years spent to raise the poisonous insects?

Would that person appear before him?

If they did, who would they be?

There were two critical events that needed to take place before this.

First, Zhou Shi needed to die on the streets. His death would cause Lu Fang and Zhou Fei to voluntarily become involved in the situation.

Second, the owner of the flying sword also needed to die.

Ding Ying glanced back at the window and smiled. He felt like this would be quite easy to pull off.

————

An old man with an aquiline nose gave off a natural sense of authority as he walked along the bustling streets of Southern Garden Nation's capital. He was most likely someone from the northern regions. He was extremely tall, and this made him stand out from the crowd and attract many gazes from the local residents.

There were several male and female bodyguards with calm expressions and strong footsteps walking beside the old man, and just a single sideways glance from them would cause the local residents to quickly retract their curious gazes. The old man continued to sigh with emotion as he walked through this city that was known as the most virtuous in the world.

He was accustomed to the boundless expanses of land and the sparse populations outside the cities, as well as the feeling of vastness and loneliness. As a result, he was unable to accustom himself to the bustling crowds of the capital.

Just when the old man was feeling in a slightly foul mood, a strong and capable-looking man briskly walked over from the distance and used the dialect of the grasslands to inform his respected master that he had found that person. That person was currently at a place called the Imperial Examination Bridge, which wasn't far away from here.

The old man asked his disciple to lead the way. It wasn't long before they crossed a stone bridge with a lengthy history and arrived at a shop near the waterside. This was surprisingly a silk shop, and the old man told his disciple to wait for him outside. Business was very slow for the silk shop, and there wasn't a single customer at this moment.

The old man walked inside by himself. What he saw was a head that was just tall enough to poke above the counter, which wasn't tall at all. This person's hair was thinning and disheveled.

The shopkeeper smiled when he saw the old man, and he exclaimed, "Oh, what a rare customer! I wouldn't be surprised to see anyone else, but I'm indeed surprised to see you. It's as if the sun is rising from the west. I truly don't understand things anymore. Even though Zhou Fei's son gave me a heads-up beforehand, telling me that you would come, I was actually quite skeptical of his words. I thought Zhou Shi was trying to trick me into heading out to act as a shield for his father."

The shopkeeper walked out from behind the counter and gestured for the old man with an aquiline nose to sit wherever he wanted. He didn't mince his words as he continued, "Grandmaster Cheng, please hurry up and take a seat. Otherwise, I'll have to keep craning my neck to look up at you when we speak. It's too much effort."

The old man who had traveled a long way to come here wasn't offended by the shopkeeper's words. He sat down on a crudely made guest chair and said in a frank manner, "I wouldn't have taken the risk and come here if it weren't for the fact that I don't trust the list of Upper Ten Elites from the Reverence Pagoda. Both you and I are ranked outside the top five, so it's very likely that something unexpected will happen.

"Right now, we can confidently confirm the identities of three otherworldly immortals—Feng Qingbai, Old Demon Ding's grand-disciple Ya'er, and Zhou Fei's son Zhou Shi. However, who knows if there are any old bastards or little weasels still hiding in the world?"

The shopkeeper nodded in complete agreement.

Including Yu Zhenyi and Zhong Qiu, it was said that the four grandmasters were holding a meeting on Bull Mountain. However, this was only a surface-level explanation for the rest of the world.

The Reverence Pagoda had chosen to publish the updated list of Upper Ten Elites in the capital of Southern Garden Nation this time, and this was the critical decision that harbored many secrets and ulterior motives.

The old man with an aquiline nose chuckled coldly and said, "I use the spear and you use the sword, and just like Zhong Qiu, both of us practice external martial arts. We're different from that sly old fox, Yu Zhenyi, in the sense that we'll definitely suffer some wounds if we engage in life-and-death battles, be they minor or severe wounds.

"The three of us definitely can't wait for another sixty years. I've fought my hardest for the sake of this current opportunity, so I naturally need a pay-off to justify all of my lingering wounds!"

The old man lightly patted the armrest of his chair after saying this. The chair remained unharmed, yet a dense web of cracks immediately spread across the floor of the shop under the chair.

Outside the silk shop, the in-house disciples of the shopkeeper felt as if they were facing a formidable enemy when they detected the aura flowing through the shop. Their breathing started to become heavy.

The shopkeeper smiled and remarked, "The aptitude of your disciples is quite mediocre. If I remember right, I heard that you found an astonishingly talented wolf boy in the grasslands many years ago? After carefully teaching him for all these years, surely he's no weaker than the other young prodigies such as Ya'er and Zhou Shi?"

"He's dead. It's not good for someone to have overly good aptitude," the old man with the surname Cheng replied in an apathetic voice.

"Cheng Yuanshan!" the shopkeeper exclaimed in anger. "Even a monster wouldn't hurt its own children! Do you still have any humanity or conscience?"

The old man who had traveled hundreds of kilometers to Southern Garden Nation was none other than Arm Sage Cheng Yuanshan, the eighth ranked cultivator of the Upper Ten Elites.

Cheng Yuanshan had secretly left the cities and gone to the grasslands after he was ranked as an Upper Ten Elite by the Reverence Pagoda around twenty years ago. He had quickly become an esteemed guest of the ruler of the grasslands.

Cheng Yuanshan shot a sideways glance at the short old man who was concealing his identity and hiding in Southern Garden Nation, and he retorted, "Liu Zong, you still have the face to criticize me? What's your title? What does Knife Sharpener mean? What do you most like to sharpen your knife with?"

Knife Sharpener Liu Zong chuckled in reply.

1. The Qinglang in Cao Qinglang (曹晴朗) literally means sunny. ☜