Chapter 13: A Ruthless Revelation
The enemy Rong Zhao wanted to kill was Venerable Peng of Chilong Mountain, and also the last person Rong Zhao wanted to kill before attaining the Dao and ascending to immortality.
This Venerable Peng had stalled at the threshold of attaining enlightenment and had been mediocre for almost two hundred years. His cultivation base was far from perfect. Logically speaking, Rong Zhao could have taken his life five years ago, but he had deliberately spared him until now.
Rong Zhao had calculated the timing that, by setting off today from Cuiyu Mountain to Chilong Mountain, would allow him to kill him on the nineteenth day of the ninth lunar month.
As for why that specific date was essential, it all stemmed from a grudge thirty years ago.
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Thirty years ago, on the nineteenth day of the ninth month.
At that time, Rong Zhao had just touched the threshold of the Path of Ruthlessness, clutching his newly acquired cultivation manual as he left the deep mountains and forests, passing through Chilong Mountain.
Venerable Peng was holding a birthday banquet.
For cultivators, birthdays were long since irrelevant. However, Venerable Peng was a man who cared deeply about his reputation and was extremely enthusiastic in such events. He would host a small birthday banquet every fifteen years and a grand banquet every thirty years, inviting cultivators from all over the world.
As a Venerable, everyone was happy to give him face; even guests with personal grudges wouldn't easily cause trouble at the banquet.
Therefore, Venerable Peng's birthday banquets were always lively and bustling.
Rong Zhao, living a secluded life, knew nothing of the banquet, seeing Chilong Mountain so lively, he assumed it was just a common event in the cultivation world.
When he passed by the mountain gate on his flying sword, he received a warm greeting from a Venerable Peng's disciple.
The young cultivator didn't recognize him, only knowing that his master's birthday banquet was open to all, and anyone could attend.
Rong Zhao happened to be thirsty and since he had been invited, which was rare, he put aside his Rao Zhi Rou and politely walked up the 199 steps to the banquet entrance.
The moment he appeared, the lively banquet fell silent.
Then came a chorus of whispers.
"Why is he here too?"
"Venerable Peng is on the verge of attaining the Dao, why does this harbinger of doom have to come? It's an I'll omen..."
"...A Lone Star of Calamity… actually coming to the birthday banquet..."
"What bad luck..."
Venerable Peng, sitting in the main seat, had a gloomy face and didn't say a word, especially when he heard the words "on the verge of attaining the Dao," his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a mosquito.
He coldly stared at Rong Zhao, hoping the boy would take the hint and leave on his own.
Rong Zhao, however, remained oblivious. He even hastily retrieved a birthday gift from his storage bag and handed it to the ceremonial official at the entrance.
The official in charge of ceremonies was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to accept or refuse. Sweating profusely, he glanced nervously at Venerable Peng, hoping the esteemed figure would offer a word.
Venerable Peng finally spoke: "Chilong Mountain will not accept your gifts. Leave."
Rong Zhao was taken aback: "Why? Isn't this banquet open to everyone?"
Venerable Peng: "..."
The young man's dark eyes were clear and bright, revealing a hint of doubt, making him seem no different from any of the sect's young disciples.
However, wherever he went, misfortune followed; he was a lone calamity star, despised by all.
Seeing that the young man completely failed to read the room, not only causing him to lose face but also daring to continue walking in, Venerable Peng was instantly enraged.
As an Exalted Venerable, he didn't need to consider anything in his actions, let alone when facing a Lone Star of Calamity, a wretched forsaken by heaven and loathed by men, who might die at any moment.
He abruptly stood up, flicked his sleeve, and surging spiritual energy rushed out like a whirlwind, instantly engulfing Rong Zhao.
"A Lone star of Calamity like your dares to attend my birthday banquet?! Get out!"
Rong Zhao, not expecting to be directly driven away, widened his eyes slightly.
His protective spiritual energy, as fragile as paper, was easily torn apart, and he flew away like a weightless reed, splattered with blood.
Venerable Peng, still enraged, clearly had no intention of letting him off easily.
A force as heavy as Mount Tai crashed down, relentlessly pressing down on Rong Zhao, as if crushing an ant underfoot, while the Venerable coldly watched him struggle.
The Venerable's power was unshakeable.
Rong Zhao was unable to move, forced to roll down the 199 steps, one step at a time. The dull thuds of his body hitting the stone slabs mingled with the rising dust, blood smeared on the long stone steps—a mixture of the blood he had vomited up from internal injuries and fresh wounds from the impact.
Laughter drifted over from the banquet, faint and indistinct.
He lay motionless on the ground, covered in dust and grime.
After a long while, Rong Zhao slowly opened his eyes.
The sky was a clean, pure blue, mixing with the blood in his eyes, creating a magnificent sunset-like color.
He said nothing, like a shattered clay doll, numb to the pain, or perhaps already accustomed to such treatment. He slowly rose to his feet amidst the young cultivator's terrified gaze, wiped the blood from his face, and limped away.
Thirty years later, on the nineteenth day of the ninth month.
It was another birthday banquet.
Rong Zhao stood on the spot where he had once lain, slightly raising his head to gaze at the towering flight of 199 steps, steps that seemed impossibly out of reach. The longsword, formed from his Rao Zhi Rou, its blade gleaming softly, hummed gently.
He charged in.
The screams at the banquet were piercing, reaching the heavens. Blood flowed down the stone steps, the sword, like a serpentine dance, frantically reaping wave after wave of guests, a dense, overwhelming net that transformed the entire Chilong Mountain into a blood-soaked spiderweb.
Rong Zhao stood amidst the wind, the black hair tied back at his nape fluttering, and his dark eyes coldly lowered. Blood soaked his cuffs, hem, and boots, leaving a long trail of bloody footprints behind him.
He looked like a vengeful demon crawling out of hell, treading on mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
"You insolent brat—! Heaven is blind, truly blind! How dare you, to think a bloodthirsty little beast like you has actually stepped into the Venerable Realm!" Venerable Peng was covered in blood, his beard and hair bristling, his spiritual energy surging like a raging storm. "I am one of the Six Guest Elders in the Immortal Alliance. Today you destroyed my Chilong Mountain, but one day the Immortal Alliance will surely raze your Cuiyu Mountain to the ground. Your arrogance won't last long!"
”Just a rabble, nothing to fear." Rong Zhao licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, tilted his head slightly, a gesture that held a chilling naiveté tinged with cruelty, he asked, "Old man, everyone can come to your birthday banquet, why am I the only one not allowed?"
"You? You aren't worthy! Bah! Don't you even know who you are! A calamity star, forsaken by heaven and loathed by all, who in the entire cultivation world doesn't find you an omen of misfortune?! I was soft-hearted back then and spared your life, only to drive you away. I never expected you to be so vicious, holding a grudge for thirty years! It was a mistake... I shouldn't have let a little bastard like you live!!"
His furious rebukes were as loud as thunder, mixed with the heavy smell of blood in the wind, the two spiritual energies confronting each other in the air, creating turbulent, surging currents.
However, at this moment, Rong Zhao's mind wandered.
There was someone on Cuiyu mountain who didn't mind him at all. He thought.
Someone who would be willing to take him along in everything, holding his hand tightly, speaking softly, looking at him with eyes brimming with warmth and smiles. Someone who would tuck him in at night, and if he was woken up, he wouldn't get angry, he would simply go to the kitchen to make him a couple of delicious late-night snacks.
He was so much better than these riffraff and scums of the cultivation world.
...
Rong Zhao looked around at the blood and corpses, his gaze sweeping over the ferocious face of Venerable Peng, and suddenly felt a sense of weariness.
He wanted to return to Cuiyu Mountain to see Meng Zhifan.
He wanted to, so very much.
Once he killed this old bastard before him, he wouldn't have to kill anymore. He could live with Meng Zhifan on Cuiyu Mountain, feeding the fish, watering the flowers, cooking, and sitting side-by-side talking.
Mortal lifespans were short; once the dust settled over the destruction of the Chilong Mountain, he would go down the mountain to find some immortal herbs and elixirs to prolong life…
Suddenly, the surging spiritual energy in his meridians faltered.
In the midst of the confrontation, Venerable Peng's spiritual energy instantly gained the upper hand, surging like a giant wave, slamming him heavily to the ground, cracking the floor tiles beneath him.
No one had anticipated this turn of events.
Rong Zhao coughed up blood, his expression slightly changing. He looked down at his hands, his eyes filled with three parts bewilderment and seven parts disbelief.
Strands of spiritual energy were dissipating from his fingertips.
Venerable Peng was also stunned.
A moment later, he revealed an unbelievable, wild joy, laughing maniacally: "Truly, you're forsaken by heaven and loathed by all! Hahaha... you brat, your cultivation has plummeted! At such a critical moment, no less!! Hahahaha... Heaven is going to destroy you! Heaven is going to destroy you!!"
Rong Zhao stared intently at the dissipating spiritual energy, his pupils trembling slightly.
This cultivation... was the only, the only rope that had allowed him to crawl out of the mire.
The only one.
And it has snapped.
Why?
Venerable Rong was indeed talented in cultivation, and quickly found the root cause of his decline.
The Path of Ruthlessness.
His rutless Dao heart had shattered.
