First Immortal of the Sword

Chapter 2583 – Striving for Something New

That night.

In a village lit by the setting sun, smoke rose from the eaves. Everyone who’d once lay there was now a corpse sprawled out in pools of their own blood.

A flock of sparrows flew over, lingered in the surrounding airspace, then beat their wings and flew off. They’d built their nests in the village, but all of them had been destroyed.

A stray dog tugged the mangled corpse of a child away. The dead child held a willow whip, as if he’d died while still tending to his livestock.

Su Yi stopped silently at the entrance to the village.

The dog looked up, then whimpered and scampered off as if sensing the danger.

The crops still flourished in the fields, promising a generous harvest, but there was no one left to benefit.

Su Yi silently took in the ransacked village lit only by the setting sun. He stood there in silence for a long time, accompanied only by his elongated shadow.

His first incarnation’s heart devil spoke from within the rusted sword sheath. “The powerful can effortlessly destroy whole cities, whole words, and even entire starscapes. How many innocents die brutal deaths as a result? So many that you can’t possibly manage to even pity them all, let alone save them all!”

On his journey, Su Yi occasionally conversed with the heart devil, discussing both cultivation and worldly affairs.

Su Yi had been standing there like a clay statue for a long time, but when he heard that, he shook his head. “Pity? No, I just think that the world is wrong. It shouldn’t be like this. It cannot be like this.”

With that, he turned to leave.

The village’s misfortune had nothing to do with him, but what if something like that had happened to those connected to him?

During this dark, turbulent times, elites vied for supremacy. How many people would concern themselves with humble villagers lying dead in pools of their own blood?

“The world is wrong? Well said,” said the heart devil. “I once met a mighty Confucian sage. He swore to work for a better world, to live his life for the sake of the people, and to strive for lasting peace. His magnanimity and breadth of spirit were enough to bring one to tears.”

The heart devil paused. “He was admirable indeed, but do you know how he died in the end?”

Su Yi was stunned. “No. How’d he die?”

“From sheer exhaustion!”

Su Yi hadn’t expected that answer at all.

The heart devil continued, “The good die young, while the wicked seem to live forever. In pursuit of the Grand Dao, those who concern themselves with the wellbeing of the masses suffer bitterly. Their lives are full of grief.

“Oftentimes, those who try to help are misunderstood, slandered, accused, and criticized behind their backs, so who’d get hung up on doing the right thing?

“It’s common for good deeds to go unrewarded, and the wicked aren’t necessarily punished for their crimes.

“All talk of karmic retribution is no more than soothing nonsense.” The heart devil’s voice suddenly dripped with disdain. “Take the current situation in the God Domain. Order has collapsed, and the skies are bright with beacon fires. Where is divine retribution? Which of the innumerable gods and Buddhas fears retribution?

“Even juniors who’ve only just taken their first steps onto the path of cultivation know that. How could you possibly not realize all that?”

Su Yi had been listening in silence this whole time, but this time, he said softly, “It’s always been that way, but does that make it right?”

As the sunset gave way to darkness, Su Yi turned and left. Before he did, he used the power of reincarnation to send the lost souls of the village onto the Path of the Far Shore.

“‘It’s always been that way, but does that make it right…?’” the heart devil murmured, unsure of how to respond.

After a while, he sighed. “There are so many lost souls in this world. Can you really save them all?”

The heart devil obviously disapproved of Su Yi’s way of doing things. To him, it seemed more than just foolish; it seemed downright unreasonable.

“Since I ran into them, I’ll lend a hand. All I seek is mental peace,” said Su Yi.

“Mental peace, huh? Does that mean that what you saw earlier disturbed you?” exclaimed the heart devil.

But Su Yi changed the subject. “You said earlier that divine retribution has never really existed, and that gods and buddhas have never feared punishment for their misdeeds. Now, I finally understand something.”

“Oh?” said the heart devil, clearly intrigued. “Let’s hear it, then. What is your lofty and distinguished view on the matter?”

Su Yi said casually, “One day, I’ll become their punishment.”

“…” The heart devil didn’t know what to say to that.

“If the day comes that I bring order to the world, I’ll be sure to settle these scores and punish those unrepentant evildoers to soothe the souls of the dead innocents!”

The heart devil fell uncharacteristically silent.

Su Yi said nothing of right and wrong, cause and effect, or any sort of grand principles. He just wanted to right a wrong, becoming the punishment the wicked lacked.

Only that and nothing more.

But that was far more forceful than any talk of principles!

Knowing was easy, but doing was difficult. Actions spoke louder than words.

If Su Yi really managed to one day bring order to the God Domain, fulfilling this desire would be no more difficult than turning over his hand!

“Strange. Given your experience and mental strength, you should have long since accepted all this. Why do you still care about such things?” the heart devil couldn’t help but ask.

“In my pursuit of the Dao, I see and experience the world. I naturally want to do a little something, change a few things, and break a few others,” said Su Yi. “Otherwise, even if I take control of the God Domain, how will I be any different from everyone who controlled the God Domain previously?

“The world has been plunged into darkness and upheaval, and the old is giving way to the new. All is being broken and rebuilt,” said Su Yi. “That’s what I want: something new. That’s true of both my Dao, and of my Dao Heart.”

He spoke calmly, yet with incontrovertible determination.

In the past, Su Yi would never have come up with such an idea.

But now, the Epoch Spark had sprouted, and he’d grasped the mysteries of the alternations of the epochs, giving him an all-new understanding.

His path of cultivation was new and unprecedented. The day might well come that he created an all-new epoch civilization, becoming its creator. If the new world was the same as the old one, what would be the point?

How would anything get any better? And would a world like that really be “new”?

Furthermore, he was now seeing the effects of the Dark Days of Legend firsthand. It was absurd, bloody, and desolate.

Su Yi was gradually starting to understand what kind of new epoch civilization he wanted to create.

One entirely new, just like his path of the Grand Dao!

“Something new, huh…?” The heart devil whispered, seemingly touched. He seemed to have realized something, and he sank into silence.

Su Yi, meanwhile, felt his heart silently growing steadier, as if he’d planted a seed in his Dao Heart. He had something to look forward to, and a goal to work toward.

A man couldn’t move forward without aspirations, just as a tree couldn’t grow without roots.

A cultivator without ambition would in turn lack resolve, becoming ordinary and indistinguishable from the masses.

In contrast, those with grand ambitions and lofty aspirations were more determined, and they could walk further down their path.

When there’s a will, there’s a way. Neither towering mountains nor endless oceans can stop someone truly determined!

Now, Su Yi had stated his aspiration. He strived for something new. This was his goal, his grand ambition!

A Buddha once said, “If I don’t enter hell to save the damned, who will?”

A Confucian sage once swore to work for a better world, to live his life for the sake of the people, and to strive for lasting peace.

These were their grand aspirations, the Daos they strove for!

…

Half a month later, the territories of the Ancient Forest Sword Sect.

By the standards of the God Domain, they were second-rate at best. However, they’d happened upon a Fragment of Heaven’s Will, inviting disaster upon themselves.

Dozens of cultivation factions attacked like wolves, marching upon their gates.

Within less than ten minutes, the sect fell, suffering countless casualties. Only a few survivors remained within the blood-soaked ruins.

“We gave you the Fragment of Heaven’s Will. Why wouldn’t you let us go? Why?” The speaker was a woman collapsed in a pool of blood. Her long hair was loose and disheveled, and she screamed at the top of her lungs, full of grief, fury, and despair.

No one paid her any heed. This was nothing but the roaring of someone on the verge of death. They’d long since become accustomed to such things.

The attackers fought like a pack of wolves, striking to kill without hesitation. They wanted to rip the grass up by the roots.

But then, the hum of a sword rang out, echoing throughout the nine heavens.

Immediately afterward, countless streaks of sword qi descended from the sky, and the cultivators attacking like wolves died brutally on the spot, their bodies offering no more resistance than paper.

Blood painted a vibrant red painting in the sky.

Immediately afterward, a group of sword cultivators flew in like beams of light, then hovered in the sky.

Their leader, a young man in long robes, scanned the area. He couldn’t help but frown. “This world… is getting more and more turbulent!”

Although none of them noticed, a tall passerby in blue robes silently stopped in place and looked their way.