Silence!
Everyone was utterly shocked by Lin Fan’s words.
To them,
they had certainly never expected such words to co from him.
Unfairness?
When has there ever been fairness in this world? The law of the jungle prevails—if you are weak, you are prey.
Those in power can regard anyone as re ants, while people like them, without any background, have only one path to survive: practicing Martial Arts.
Once they cultivate to the Innate Realm, they can complete the tasks given by the Immortal Sect. With enough contribution points, they gain the chance to be tested. If they possess a Spirit Root, they could take flight and beco a mber of the Immortal Sect.
Yet reality is often cruel.
What use is exceptional talent in Martial Arts? Without a Spirit Root, one cannot cultivate Immortal Law.
In the end, they are reduced to re dust, fading into the crowd.
Forever puppets held in others’ control.
It’s just so unfortunate...
Even if they think further ahead, becoming a disciple of the Immortal Sect doesn’t an escaping the cycle—one is still under control.
Even soone who has reached the True Immortal Realm, with mana dense enough to last 150,000 years, would still be under soone’s thumb.
They wouldn’t even dare claim they are truly free from control.
Mysterious eyes in the unseen shadows watch over you.
The Old Sword God, tears streaming down his face, bowed low and knelt, saying, "Thank you, Martial Arts Ancestor, for granting rebirth."
No need for such formality.
Such tearful and kneeling behavior was sowhat embarrassing to accept.
This Old Sword God before him was considerably aged.
Perhaps his age was multiple cycles of Lin Fan’s own.
And this kind of behavior naturally influenced the surrounding martial artists to follow suit.
"Thank you, Martial Arts Ancestor, for granting us rebirth."
They all knelt in gratitude.
To them, this truly was a rebirth. They had thought their lives would pass in diocrity, eventually dying in unwilling sorrow. But Lin Fan’s selfless dissemination of the Martial Arts cultivation thod was sothing they could never forget for the rest of their lives.
It was equivalent to giving them a second splendid life.
Lin Fan said nothing more, calmly accepting their gratitude. If they truly wanted to thank soone, they should thank that child leader properly.
If that child had not been willing to speak out,
How else could he have learned of the Martial Arts thod from the Source Tribe?
Yet he understood why the Source Tribe dared not spread the Martial Arts thod.
Based on his speculation,
it was definitely because the Martial Arts thod touched upon greater interests. If it beca widespread, Immortality cultivation would no longer be the only coveted path.
For those without Spirit Roots, they would pursue Martial Arts.
Even those with Spirit Roots might choose Martial Arts, striking a blow against the path of Immortality cultivation.
To put it more profoundly,
perhaps the Immortal Realm itself was the reason. The thods of the Immortal Realm are rooted in Immortality cultivation. If sothing like Martial Arts suddenly surfaced, wouldn’t that be seen as robbing their Taoism?
Thus...
The conflict here was highly complex. Perhaps only by venturing into the Immortal Realm could the truth be confird.
"There’s no need for excess gratitude. I hope you all reach Martial Arts to God and ascend to even greater heights," Lin Fan said calmly.
As soon as his words fell,
he transford into a streak of light and vanished into the heavens and earth.
In that instant,
everyone on the scene snapped out of a brief daze and then scrambled toward the stele. They had to see clearly what was recorded on the stele!
A big man in the front, full of excitent, was the first to dash to the stele.
Just as he was about to ditate on the Martial Arts thod on the stele...
A sharp sound of sothing slicing through the air suddenly burst forth.
Whoosh!
Splurt!
The man’s head was suddenly encased in an iron hood that exploded afterward. Blood sprayed everywhere, dyeing the ground crimson.
"What?"
The crowd was horrified.
No one knew what had happened.
Soon,
several figures darted over from the distance and landed on the stele.
One man, holding a cold blade, swept his sharp gaze across everyone and declared, "Immortal Sect Envoy here. The stele is now under the Immortal Sect’s control. No one is allowed to approach it. Any violators will be executed without rcy."
His voice was like thunder, booming through the air.
The man clearly understood the extraordinary nature of this stele, and his task was to ensure the stele was under their control and never leaked out.
The martial artists froze in fear.
Anger painted their faces.
"How could you, as Immortal Sect envoys, do this? This stele was left by the Martial Arts Ancestor. His intention was to make Martial Arts flourish, and your actions go against his wishes!" a man protested indignantly.
Shing!
A flash of sword light swept through the air.
The sword light, forged from Inner Strength, was swift and nearly impossible for martial artists to evade.
The man gasped in terror, his body turning cold. He was certain he was about to die.
At that mont, a figure erged and shattered the sword light.
The Old Sword God stepped in front of the man, staring directly at the attackers. "Don’t you all think you’re going too far?"
"This stele is the treasure bestowed upon us by the Martial Arts Ancestor. A treasure for generations of those without Spirit Roots. If you try to claim it, you will be making enemies of all martial artists in the world."
The man sighed with relief, grateful to the Old Sword God for stepping in. He backed away hurriedly, still shaken to his core.
"Hahaha... Sword God, after so many years, you’re still as ddleso as ever." Suddenly, a blood-red figure appeared near the stele.
The Old Sword God’s expression shifted, "Blood Butcher Tu Gang, I never imagined you survived. And now... you’re an Immortal Sect envoy?"
It was inconceivable to him.
That the Immortal Sect’s interests in the mortal world would align with recruiting such a man as an envoy clashed with his perception of the Immortal Sect.
Tu Gang grinned, "Hahaha, naturally. My current status is beyond your wildest imagination. This stele belongs to the Immortal Sect today. Anyone here who dares to move will have their heart shattered with a single palm strike."
The surrounding martial artists were stupefied.
They all knew who Tu Gang was.
A fearso Innate Realm cultivator of forty years ago, he had committed heinous acts and killed countless, leaving many noble families in ruins.
Not even children were spared.
It was even rumored that Tu Gang enjoyed eating the hearts of infants and used people to cultivate Evil Techniques.
Back then, the Blood Butcher was feared and loathed, hunted by all.
Ultimately, it was the Old Sword God who confronted him, battling him for three days and nights along the Wei River. Tu Gang was defeated, falling into the raging waters, presud dead—yet here he was.
As such,
At the mont of Tu Gang’s appearance, many martial artists were frozen in terror.
A fad figure casts a long shadow; even decades later, the atrocities associated with his na had paralyzed many martial artists with fear. They dared not assu they could contend with him, even with their numbers.
"How can you, as Immortal Sect envoys, act like this?"
"That’s right. We possess no Spirit Roots and only seek to practice Martial Arts. Is that a cri?"
"Everyone, we outnumber them—why should we fear? Let’s drive them away!"
Soone suggested, but even as they spoke, they darted to safety, fearing they might be singled out and ruthlessly struck down.
"Who said that?"
Just then, a figure descended from the heavens. Everyone looked up, their expressions changing drastically—this figure was treading through the air.
Such an ability was proof of soone from the Immortal Sect.
"This..."
All resistance was snuffed out.
They were rely martial artists—how could they possibly contend with the Immortal world? The gap between them was imasurable.
"The stele will be taken by the Immortal Sect. Does anyone have objections?"
"If you do, step forward and voice them to ."
His arrival intimidated everyone present.
The crowd turned their bewildered eyes toward the man standing on the stele. He was from the Immortal Sect, his strength terrifying. To him, they were nothing more than mortals—ants, easily crushed at any mont.
The Old Sword God clenched his teeth in unrelenting frustration.
He knew that if no one voiced their objection now, it would all truly be lost.
The Immortal Sect envoys here were all martial artists themselves. If it were just them, they would not dare act so brazenly. However, knowing that soone from the Immortal Realm was accompanying them gave them their arrogance.
No matter their numbers,
no matter how advanced their Martial Arts cultivation,
could they really dare challenge an Immortal?
The Old Sword God declared, "This stele is the legacy left to us by the Martial Arts Ancestor. You Immortal Sect mbers have no right to take it."
The mont he spoke, Tu Gang laughed in gleeful schadenfreude.
The Immortal Sect disciple shot a cold glare in silence. He understood well enough that sotis, you have to kill to make others fear. If no one is killed, no one will truly fear you.
Since this old fool dared be so bold,
then he should be struck down.
With that thought,
The Immortal Sect disciple raised his hand. A flying sword shot forth, streaking toward the Old Sword God. For the Old Sword God, well-versed as he was in Sword Dao, this strike filled him with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
He felt as if he were completely immobilized, locked in place.
"No..." The Old Sword God’s contorted face was full of despair. He tried to raise his hand to block, but it was an utterly futile effort.
His fate was sealed...
"Sigh! I always knew so things would never be simple. But I truly didn’t expect... that even the Immortal Sect would stoop to this."
"The Martial Arts legacy I brought back, and you dare touch it? Courting death."
Boom!
For the Immortal Sect disciple, initially calm and composed, a storm now raged in his heart.
The flying sword, seemingly unstoppable, was abruptly deflected, falling to the ground with a tallic clang.
The Immortal Sect disciple standing on the stele suffered severe injuries, coughing up a mouthful of blood and tumbling down.
"Ah! The Martial Arts Ancestor has returned!"
"I knew it! The Ancestor must have known what was happening here!"
Lin Fan descended slowly, gazing at the Immortal Sect disciple. "Which sect do you belong to? Martial Arts is my legacy. You dare to obstruct it?"
The Immortal Sect disciple’s face was filled with panic.
The earlier sensation had been terrifying.
He had absolutely no way to withstand it.
"Who are you?" The Immortal Sect disciple asked warily, as if afraid Lin Fan might attack him. He hastily added, "I am a disciple of the Xuankong Immortal Sect."
Lin Fan had not expected him to be from the Xuankong Immortal Sect, a na familiar to him—he had once saved the Sect Leader of Xuankong Immortal Sect.
"I am Lin Fan of the Taiwu Immortal Sect. Have you heard of ?"
Shock!
When the disciple heard this, his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
"You..."
His reaction made it clear—he recognized the na.
"Leave!"
Lin Fan waved his hand, unwilling to waste another word. "Go back and tell your people that anyone who dares sever the Martial Arts legacy I’ve passed down will face death at my hands."
PS: To all my brothers and sisters, Happy New Year! Wishing you good health and prosperity!
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