The thirteen continents of the world spanned 80,000 li east to west and 60,000 li north to south. They occupied a massive area, teeming with hundreds of millions of lives!
Only a little over 200 of all these beings were Grandmasters listed on the Land Rankings. Every single Grandmaster was a formidable powerhouse, capable of governing territories and acting as a pillar of nations.
In clashes between martial artists, life and death hung precariously in the balance. Therefore, unless they were absolutely certain of victory, Grandmasters were usually reluctant to engage in combat. A small slip-up could lead to death, delivering a crushing blow to their respective factions.
Battles between Grandmasters were thus extremely rare! At least, they were rarely publicized. In times of peace, only around three to five Grandmaster-level battles might occur each year, most of them ending without fatal outcomes.
Take the Jiang Continent, for example. The last duel to the death between Grandmasters dated back to the Battle of Hillstride a decade ago. That battle claimed the life of a Grandmaster and shaped the current state of the Jiang Continent, putting the Great Jin Empire’s eastward expansion on hold for the past decade.
At least hundreds of thousands of civilians caught glimpses of Wu Yuan and Chen Luo’s battle. More importantly, it was intertwined with the succession dispute within the Jin royal family. Such a clash caused a far larger impact than the usual Grandmaster showdowns, rivaling the epic battle between Grandmaster Yu and the East King Jin Jiu at Hillstride ten years ago!
…
In the heart of winter, the headquarters of Yuanhu Villa remained cloaked in unyielding layers of snow.
Deep within a grand hall situated atop the highest peak.
“Bastard! That damn Shadow Blade!” Old Yuanhu roared, his countenance contorted in rage. “An expert that can rival a Grandmaster, stooping so low as to target a couple of juniors?”
Within the grand hall, a crowd knelt on the ground, shivering with fear. They naturally understood why their lord was so furious.
The news had just come in: Shadow Blade, a Savant expert who had killed two division heads over a year ago, actually possessed the strength of a Grandmaster.
Upon receiving this news, they too had been dumbstruck. A Grandmaster? With such monstrous strength, did Yuanhu Villa even stand a chance at avenging their fallen? While Old Yuanhu was strong, he was getting on in his years. How much longer could he endure?
“Bastard!” Old Yuanhu abandoned all decorum, venting his anger without restraint as he demolished one object after another. A massive bookcase was pulverized with a single punch, sending splinters into the air.
Fear gripped the hearts of everyone present, and none dared to raise their heads. This was the second occasion they had seen their lord in such an agitated state. The last time was over a year ago when the news of Chen Tangru and Wang Zhushan’s deaths had reached their ears. Again, it was all because of Shadow Blade!
After a long while, the grand hall fell into a gradual hush.
“Everyone, out. Now,” Old Yuanhu abruptly commanded. “Ming Lie, you stay.”
Shuffling sounds echoed as the crowd hurriedly retreated.
“Ming Lie, step forward,” Old Yuanhu ordered.
“Master.” The youth clad in beast hide rose, one severed arm hanging listlessly by his side. However, the aura he exuded was far stronger than two years ago. The loss of his arm had not crushed the spirit of this once-promising talent of Yuanhu Villa.
“Master, you…?” Ming Lie stuttered in shock, struggling to comprehend the sight before him.
At this moment, Old Yuanhu looked as though he had aged ten years, his once black hair now mostly white.
“Do you still bear a grudge against Shadow Blade?” Old Yuanhu rasped.
Ming Lie lowered his head, silent.
“Are you certain that you crossed blades with Shadow Blade two years ago in Li City?” Old Yuanhu asked again.
“Yes,” Ming Lie nodded solemnly. “Everything I said was true.”
“If that’s the case,” Old Yuanhu sighed, closing his eyes, “let go of your resentment over this lost arm, Ming Lie.”
Ming Lie’s pupils constricted.
“Grandmaster Chen Luo is currently in his prime, and his vital qi is abundant,” Old Yuanhu said softly. “Yet, he had to abandon his pursuit.”
“Reports state that Shadow Blade’s power and speed were not superior to Chen Luo’s. However, his stamina and endurance were astonishing.”
Ming Lie listened intently, hanging on to every word.
“This Shadow Blade, there’s a slim chance that he’s a cunning old man, a master of combat, masquerading as just another skilled expert,” Old Yuanhu stated. “But there’s a greater possibility that he’s an inconceivable prodigy, a youth of unimaginable potential. And in the span of a mere two years, he catapulted from the top 500 of the Human Rankings to the level of a Grandmaster.”
“Only the latter can account for such enduring vital qi and physical strength. I cannot think of any other possibilities.” Old Yuanhu shook his head.
“How is that possible?” Ming Lie’s mind reeled. Such dramatic growth in two years?
“Master, even if the Martial King were reborn, he probably couldn’t achieve this, right?” Ming Lie voiced his skepticism. “Even Imperator Jin took more than a decade to go from a first-rate Adept to a Grandmaster.”
Who could possibly rival the cultivation progress of Imperator Jin?
“If it is indeed the coming of immortals, anything is possible,” Old Yuanhu said. “Legend has it that the Martial King only started practicing martial arts at twenty, yet entered the Heavenly Rankings at 30. What’s so strange about a genius of this caliber appearing now?”
Ming Lie was stunned, but not completely convinced. He had, of course, heard legends of the Martial King. But those were myths and legends, not many people in the world truly believed these mythical records. After all, it was an inconceivable notion.
“Master, what do you mean by the coming of immortals?” Ming Lie asked.
“The Land Rankings were interrupted twice throughout history, do you recall them?” Old Yuanhu did not give a direct answer.
“I remember,” Ming Lie nodded. “In the first year of the Eastern Martial calendar, the Martial King established the Land Rankings; in the year 1232, the Nine Immortals Pavilion took over from the Wu Sect and revised the Land Rankings; in the year 2116, thirteen years after the Nine Immortals Pavilion was destroyed, the Starcom Consortium republished the Land Rankings for the thirteen continents.”
These historical occurrences were documented in every issue of the Land Rankings. With his exceptional memory as a first-rate Adept, Ming Lie was able to recall these major historical events without much difficulty.
“Do you know that the current Wu Sect was reestablished only a thousand years ago by various factions?” Old Yuanhu continued.
Ming Lie was taken aback.
The Wu Sect, the foremost martial arts sacred sect in the world, was reestablished a thousand years ago?
“Do you know that the Nine Immortals Pavilion was once the number one sect in the world? Why was it named ‘Nine Immortals’?” Old Yuanhu answered his own question, “Because of the coming of immortals.”
In a flash, Ming Lie had an inkling of understanding, and couldn’t resist voicing his curiosity, “Master, do immortals truly exist in this world?”
Legends of real immortal beings had circulated since ancient times, but how many had actually seen one? Let alone an immortal, how many had even crossed paths with a Heavenly Ranker?
“Immortals may or may not exist.” Old Yuanhu said in a low voice, “Only a Heavenly Ranker can answer this question.”
“Alright!” Old Yuanhu sighed, “Ming Lie, as your master, I will stake everything on one last gamble. If we succeed, Yuanhu Villa might still have a chance to preserve its legacy. But if we fail…Heh, I will take care of everything.”
The more Ming Lie listened, the more perplexed he became. Yet, he had a faint feeling that his master seemed to be making his final arrangements, as if preparing for the inevitable.
“It all hinges on this Shadow Blade. Remember, you must never harbor thoughts of revenge against Shadow Blade again!” Old Yuanhu stared at Ming Lie, “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Ming Lie clenched his jaw. Did he want to? Of course, he didn’t. But what could he do about it? He understood his master’s concerns. The gap between them was too vast, revenge was futile.
“In addition, never disclose the truth about your encounter with Shadow Blade,” Old Yuanhu instructed. “From this day forward, if anyone inquires, you must insist that Shadow Blade severed your arm with a single stroke and spared your life.”
Ming Lie was taken aback.
“Do you understand?” Old Yuanhu glared.
“I understand, Master.” Ming Lie bowed his head.
“Thirdly, starting today, cease all investigations into Shadow Blade’s identity and whereabouts. Declare that your senior brothers’ deaths a year ago were solely their own fault, unrelated to Shadow Blade,” Old Yuanhu continued.
“Master,” Ming Lie finally couldn’t help himself. How could he not understand by now? His master was afraid of Shadow Blade and was proactively lowering his head.
“Master, I’m not willing to let my senior brothers’ deaths be in vain,” Ming Lie gritted his teeth, “Shadow Blade may be powerful, but Yuanhu Villa is not weak. If push comes to shove, the outcome is uncertain.”
“Foolish boy,” Old Yuanhu’s tone held no rebuke. “If I were 30 years younger, I would never have given up on revenge. But alas, I have grown old, and cannot protect you anymore.”
“Go on, carry out your tasks,” Old Yuanhu sighed with exhaustion and weariness, “Let me have some peace.”
Ming Lie closed his eyes, ultimately choosing not to say another word.
He slowly departed from the grand hall.
As he descended the steps, Ming Lie glanced back. Beyond the slowly closing doors, the grand hall stood in disarray. A solitary figure, tall, thin, and white-haired, stood facing away from the entrance, a poignant image of loneliness and age.
“Master.” A hint of reluctance flashed in Ming Lie’s eyes.
He understood that his proud Master had truly grown old.