Demon Sword Sect's Undercover-Chapter 752 - 751: Shan Sect Annual Meeting 02

"Eager to hone my blade’s keen edge, I never shy from toil, and at dawn I unsheath the jade dragon, its roar piercing the morning chill. With a spirit sharp as three-foot ice in hand, my essence lies in the stone like a serpent’s trail. The treacherous blood silently follows the water to its end, and the ferocious brutes have now vanished with the fading stains. To level the uneven affairs of this transient world, I shall ascend with you to the ninth heaven..."

This Golden Core Upper Cultivator was speaking of a sword, all the while demonstrating and weaving Sword Qi with ease.

Under the guidance of the master of ceremonies, Alchemy Dao, Sword Dao, Formation Dao... one Golden Core Upper Cultivator after another ascended the platform, displaying their Divine Skills and speaking eloquently. The restless hearts of thousands of Tongtian third-realm disciples began to slowly converge, the initial fervor to overturn outdated traditions subsiding, and they gradually returned to the most essential aspects of a cultivator.

How does one quell restlessness? Grind, attract, and exhaust.

"If this goes on, these people might forget why they came here in the first place, right? This must be Sima Mansion’s idea, those people are best at playing these bureaucratic tricks, refining them to perfection. This Master of Ceremonies Lu is one of Sima Mansion’s experts in this field."

Zong Qian was dissatisfied, but being dissatisfied was one thing and having no way to address it was another. Being of little influence, they couldn’t dispute such systemic issues with Sima Mansion, nor did they have any place to voice their grievances.

Wang Mian also said, "Change is like this; it initially enflames the blood, but upon reflection, numerous reservations arise. With the enticements and corruption from the conservative faction, added to the enticing but distant promise from the Seeking Truth Pavilion of a pie that one can only eat sixty years from now... those who still harbor the desire for change at this point are already few."

And as the Golden Core Upper Cultivators demonstrated their Daoist Methods and spoke, not one word strayed from tradition, not one character diverged from the rules, subtly influencing and convincing the less resolute to withdraw.

"Elder brother, our opponent is very cunning, not resorting to foul language but systematically deconstructing our stage step by step.

Look at that Master of Ceremonies Lu from Sima Mansion, spirited and radiant, the very picture of confidence."

"Her face is like a peach..." Fang Yazi muttered gloomily, "But turned to the light, it’s all fuzz."

Rao Zongzhi’s worries were apparent, "They’ve all banded together now. I’ve heard that these past few days, the Sima Mansion has been very close with the Cultivators from the Outer State, granting titles and allocating resources... Among the three powerful factions, it’s Sima Mansion that can promise the most bolstered by resources from the entire sect used for their own benefit, yet no one stands up to intervene."

Hai Xixi frowned, "And it’s not just them; Prince Manor and Duan Manor are deeply involved too. I heard that just a few days ago, Sirius Duan Wuqian rushed back from the distant seas, all secretive. Rumors suggest he’s mastered a new swordsmanship, his strength reaching even greater heights.

After his return, he immediately convened all the True Disciples to discuss matters. These people flock together like rats and snakes, colluding in their scheming, and it’s unclear what they were plotting."

Fang Yazi stared at the tips of his shoes, "Cattle and sheep flock together, while fierce beasts always walk alone..."

The four of them looked at him; the boy had been spouting enigmatic and erratic things lately, as if he had lost his senses.

Hou Niao chuckled, "Yazi has been reading a lot lately, though it seems he might be reading the wrong things?

No matter, as long as we hold the advantage, the rest is trivial. The wheel of history always crushes those who cannot advance or retreat, the foolish who stand in its path, while those who grasp the truth are always in the minority.

By the time they realize it, it will be too late.

I still say the same thing, no matter what happens to me, don’t worry about me. Seize this opportunity, a once-in-a-millennium chance."

"Don’t let everything I’ve done be for naught." frёewebηovel.cѳm

Glancing at the complex expressions on everyone’s faces, he couldn’t help but give a slight smile, "What are you thinking about? I’m not leaving any last words here. My life is too precious, and no one can take it away."

Looking at these true brothers, he knew that unless he shared some genuine information, they would inevitably worry,

"I have a way out. Must I really hang myself on a single tree? Securing a position as a True Inheritor here would be great, but if things get too heated and others try to trip me up, then I’ll just aim for a guest True Inheritor position. With talent like mine, there are plenty of opportunities."

The others fell into silence. His having a backup plan might not be an empty boast, but his claim of having plenty of opportunities sounded a bit like self-praise; all of them understood Hou Niao’s intention. Changing the rules for selecting a True Inheritor was their chance to strike. If they got implicated for helping him, that chance would end up benefitting someone else.

The truth was, it was more likely that nothing would change at all.

The Upper Cultivators above continued their Demonstration and sword tests, while the disciples below divided into three groups.

One group had gradually become immersed in the ocean of Daoist Method and swordsmanship, forgetting their original purpose for being there; another group remained vigilant, unable to be swayed by anything, not even by an Immortal standing before them. They kept to the reason they came—most of them were disciples of the Natural Realm with the strength to vie for a spot as a True Inheritor, including Hou Niao’s friends.

But there was one person who belonged to the third group. He listened with keen interest, because he knew that he might not have such an opportunity in the future. This time he was listening to others, but the next time he came back, it would be others listening to him.

Perhaps there was another person who felt the same way, Fang Yazi paid close attention. He wasn’t worried in the slightest— if Master said it was fine, then it surely was. After several decades, he understood Master’s history too well. If there must be trouble, it would involve the Quanzhen Sect, not him. He wouldn’t mind giving it a little push.

He was determined to climb higher, to keep up with Master’s pace. As long as he accomplished that, an incredibly bright future awaited him.

Why bother thinking about such nonsense? Frightening oneself—the way he had reached this point was through hunting tactics: fixating on a person and never letting go.

It was simple, but simplicity had its advantages, allowing him to view the people and events around him from a different perspective. That was the reason he had come this far, at least in terms of Realm, his Master hadn’t left him behind.

In the path of cultivation, falling behind even by a step meant struggling to catch up, getting further and further away.

...At the Heaven Measuring Sword Pavilion above, after several days of Demonstration and sword tests, the performance time for the Golden Core Upper Cultivators had come to an end. Next was the lecture by the Nascent Transformation Masters, which was the highlight of any Daoist convention.

Not all Nascent Transformation Masters would ascend the pavilion, nor would anyone dare to arrange it for them. It was mostly left to fate; however, there was an informal procedure. For example, at least one Master from each of the three Manors would go up, as a sort of official statement. The other two Princes’ Manors would also present at least one person to showcase their presence. But the four hermit Masters might not, in fact, they hadn’t attended such gatherings for many sessions.

In their eyes, these conventions were mere formality, ostentatious displays not as substantial as a Sword Duel.

Master Shi of the Sima Mansion was the first to ascend the high pavilion, his voice rising and falling, "Taoists of the Shangqing not yet ascending the heavens, taking the form of Loose Immortals in Mount Nanyue’s heartland. Sell texts in eight parts to learn the characters, distill Elixirs in nine cycles to determine one’s years. Cultivating recently, my form is like a crane; practicing guidance for a long time, my bones are as soft as silk. I wish to roam all the mountains to offer my greetings, yet I return to stand guard before the Grand Pure One..."

As a Nascent Transformation Master, he did not hide his reverence for the Daoist studies; that was his right.