Chapter 508 - 449: Let the World Recite My Name!

Inside the room, Jiang Zhi only felt a sudden daze.

He couldn’t help but recall that day outside the Origin Spirit Realm, when Fifth Senior Brother had also grabbed his wrist with such force.

Only, that day, he was ordering him not to go inside.

And today, he was handing him Victory Cake.

This Daoist Junior Martial Uncle was already an old fellow of no small age; if he were placed in the mortal world, his grandchildren would probably already be running about.

At this moment, however, a look of relief appeared on his face.

"Fifth Senior Brother, these years, Little Junior Brother has been so tired."

He was, by nature, the least suitable person to preside over the big picture.

Yet his senior brothers and sisters had either died or gone mad.

The reason this fellow kept going down the mountain to slay demons, choosing to prove the Dao through killing, had a lot to do with intimidating all sides.

He wanted everyone to know that although the Daoist Sect had nearly died out, this one remaining fellow was a madman with blood-red eyes.

It was just a pity that the development and maintenance of a Sect could not rely solely on cultivation and power.

Jiang Zhi began imitating Zhong Ming’s manner from days past, only to repeatedly become a laughingstock of the Cultivation Realm.

Whenever he put on a look of holding the Wisdom Pearl in hand, peers would secretly laugh in their hearts, or openly mock him.

The more it went on like this, the more that pent-up breath in Jiang Zhi’s chest swelled.

And the more that breath swelled, the more terrifying the sword he had nourished for years would become!

How many times had he woken in the middle of the night, thinking how good it would have been if he had gone into the Origin Spirit Realm together with them.

Perhaps with one more strand of power, the result would have been different?

Even if the result were the same, he felt dying inside would have been fine.

—Time always loves to punish those whose memory is too good.

At this moment, Zhong Ming listened to his junior brother’s words. A look of confusion appeared on his face, then his expression began to twist with a hint of struggle and pain.

Jiang Zhi glanced at him, then took the Victory Cake and swallowed it in one gulp.

All right, still as unpalatable as ever.

Then he raised his left hand and gently pushed away Zhong Ming’s hands that were gripping his wrist.

"Fifth Senior Brother, Little Junior Brother is off." The old fellow said with a smile.

He strode out of the house without looking back, his steps growing more and more high-spirited as he went.

Outside the courtyard, he casually plucked a foxtail grass and clamped it between his teeth.

As he walked, his arms came to cradle a long sword against his chest.

An old companion that had not been drawn from its sheath for many years.

Its name was Yao Yao.

The "Yao Yao" of "to flee far away."

This old fellow hummed a little tune under his breath, his steps growing lighter and lighter, still splayed outwards as he walked.

He didn’t go to see Chu Huaixu, didn’t go to see Han Shuangjiang, couldn’t even be bothered to visit Xiang Yan.

As if he had returned to those carefree days of the past.

But before he took to the air, he suddenly remembered that he was no longer that youth of bygone years.

Jiang Zhi went to the Purple Bamboo Forest.

In the Purple Bamboo Forest, that slender Daoist Nun still sat high upon the great boulder.

"Shen Man, your master is leaving." He called loudly.

The Daoist Nun, still immersed in Sword Enlightenment, slightly nodded her head.

This stuttering woman, as ever, did not like to talk.

She had long grown used to this sort of scene.

Every time Master went down the mountain, he would come and say a word to her; once said, he would be unable to wait to descend.

But this time seemed a little different.

Because Jiang Zhi saw that she only nodded, and actually said, somewhat irritably, "Not going to say farewell to Master?"

The slender Daoist Nun was stunned for a moment.

Sitting cross-legged on the boulder, her hands couldn’t help but clench the Daoist Robe covering her thighs.

She merely didn’t like to speak and looked dazed and wooden, extremely slow to react—yet she wasn’t stupid.

But she also knew that this was what Master had sought all his life.

Perhaps she ought to be happy for him?

Or should she try to stop him?

Jiang Zhi simply raised his head and smiled at the back figure on the boulder. In truth, he had noticed her body tremble twice.

But his face still wore a smile.

Only after quite a while did Shen Man slowly speak.

"Mas... Master..."

"Mm?" Jiang Zhi replied.

"Safe travels." The Daoist Nun, for once, did not stutter.

"All right." The old fellow in white robes said with a smile.

....

....

East Continent, Sword Sect.

The middle-aged scholar set down the ancient book in his hand and slowly stood up.

He rose into the air and looked down, sweeping his gaze over the various peaks of the Sword Sect.

His Divine Sense swept past, but he did not find Situ Cheng’s figure.

"He’s probably down the mountain holding the line."

The Sword Venerable, who had never left the mountain, actually descended through the air at this moment.

All because of that tenth pillar of light, and the six figures that appeared within it.

The middle-aged scholar of the Ninth Realm flew at an extremely fast speed.

He quickly found Situ Cheng.

"Senior Brother, what are you doing here?" Situ Cheng, whose hair was half black and half white, couldn’t help but frown.

In that instant, alarm bells blared in his heart.

The Sword Sect disciples around them immediately bowed respectfully and saluted: "Sword Venerable!"

Their tone held endless reverence.

Anyone in the Sword Sect who inherited the position of Sword Venerable would, like that Nameless Peak, lose their name.

This holy land of Sword Cultivators had been founded far earlier than the Daoist Sect.

Every Sword Venerable of every generation was a figure of immense renown.

The moment the middle-aged scholar appeared, the morale of everyone present instantly changed.

Only the leading Situ Cheng’s expression remained heavy.

He knew there had to be a reason his senior brother never made a move, never left the mountain.

Now that he was here, it meant something huge had happened!

He cast a Silence Array, then asked aloud, "What’s going on?"

The middle-aged scholar looked at his junior brother; as always, his smile was gentle as he said softly, "I promised Elder Jiang earlier that I’d help him with something. Now it’s time to go."

"Help him with what?" Situ Cheng pressed.

"To lend him a hand," the middle-aged scholar replied, but he did not say what exactly.

"What kind of hand?"

"Uh, just... helping him with something."

"Stop talking in circles with me!" Situ Cheng flared up in an instant.

At his words, the middle-aged scholar was so startled his neck shrank back a little.

Situ Cheng stared fixedly at him. Seeing that he still refused to speak, he finally could only fling his sleeve in a rage and say, "Fine, if you won’t say, then don’t. I’ll just go with you!"

"You cannot." The middle-aged scholar, however, raised his right hand and refused him very decisively.

"Why?" Situ Cheng asked.

The middle-aged scholar answered, "Because from here on, Junior Brother still has his own task to do."

"What task?"

"Didn’t Junior Brother say when you first joined, that you wanted everyone under heaven to know your name? Then go and do exactly that."

"What I said was—’I want the whole world to chant my name!’" Situ Cheng roared, feeling his original wording had more momentum.

"Yes, yes, yes, then from now on Junior Brother should go do just that," the middle-aged scholar answered with a smile.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Situ Cheng was completely lost: "Quit bothering me. I’m going with you!"

In the end, the middle-aged scholar formed a seal with one hand, laid down a Sword Array, and forcibly confined him on the spot.

"You cannot." He glanced at Situ Cheng out of the corner of his eye, not daring to look straight at him, afraid of seeing him in a rage.

Situ Cheng tried every method he knew, but he still couldn’t break this Sword Array.

In their sparring over the years, he had always been just a little bit worse than his senior brother.

His senior brother had also said the two of them differed by only a little.

The world all knew that the Sword Venerable was a man of utmost sincerity, who never lied.

Turns out that "little" was actually an enormous gap.

"Le Zhiyao! Let me out!" Situ Cheng roared, shouting the middle-aged scholar’s name.

Hearing those three syllables, the middle-aged scholar even froze for a moment.

This actually violated a major taboo of the Sword Sect!

But the middle-aged scholar didn’t feel it was a problem; he even felt his junior brother was in the right.

"Le Zhiyao, hurry up and dispel this Array for me!"

"What bullshit ’from now on you should go do this’."

"Look at the time, Kunlun has already attacked!"

"How do I have the leisure to still be thinking about making the whole world chant my name!" Situ Cheng cursed and swore, getting angrier the more he cursed.

But at this moment, the middle-aged scholar turned around, an unprecedented solemnity on his face.

Situ Cheng looked at him and couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment.

Because he had never seen his senior brother with such a serious and earnest expression, his eyes fixed tightly on him.

He, who was usually used to being high and mighty, actually felt an inexplicable pang of trepidation.

But his mouth still said, "You... what are you going to do!"

The middle-aged scholar looked at him and said seriously, "Junior Brother, from now on you truly have to make the world remember your name."

"What kind of messed up bullshit is that!"

"Because from this day forth, your name will be..."

—"Sword Sect’s Sword Venerable."

....