Sword of Coming

Chapter 331: (1): Yao Clan's Locust Leaf

Chapter 331: (1): Yao Clan's Locust Leaf

There were still two sides facing off against each other, yet one side was now Chen Ping'an instead of the mounted troops of the Yao Clan.

The sword cultivator quietly said, "There's no hurry."

Hearing this, his subordinate calmed down and dragged his feet along the muddy ground in boredom.

The middle-aged sword cultivator was dressed in coarse white clothes, and such was the power gap between him and the Yao Clan's mounted troops that there wasn't a single drop of blood on his clothes.

He was fairly handsome, yet his narrow eyes and thin lips made him radiate with an aura of slight harshness. He didn't have an ordinary sword, just a flying sword that was the same length as most ordinary swords.

When this flying sword left his acupoint to kill enemies, it appeared like a coiling fire dragon that couldn't be stopped. Indeed, the sabers and spears of the Yao Clan's mounted troops were completely unable to stop this flying sword, immediately shattering into pieces once they came into contact with it.

The sword cultivator's subordinate was a hulking pure martial artist dressed in a suit of Divine Dewbearing Armor. Those in the mountains commonly referred to this type of armor as simply Dew Armor.

Chen Ping'an was no stranger to Militarian armor pellets like this, having once obtained an armor pellet from that imperial preceptor of Ancient Elm Nation. Afterward, he had purchased an extremely high-grade yet damaged Dew Armor from Stalactite Mountain, which Lu Tai had helped him repair later on. However, he never had the opportunity to wear it, as his Dao robe, Golden Sweet Wine, was even more precious than the high-grade Dew Armor.

The two cultivators skillfully cooperated with each other, with the pure martial artist guarding the sword cultivator while the latter controlled his flying sword to slay enemies. This prevented the sword cultivator from being attacked by cavalrymen who had slipped through the cracks and managed to charge over. At the same time, the pure martial artist could also block the arrows and cross bolts that were being fired at them.

Several volleys of arrows had shot over from an awkward angle, yet the pure martial artist had simply shifted his stance and blocked them with his body. In the end, only a few sparks flashed over the snow-white Dew Armor. Such minor consumption of the Dew Armor's spiritual energy most likely wouldn't even cost him a single snowflake coin. On the other hand, the cavalrymen would often lose another soldier after launching such an attack.

Vagrant cultivators in the mountains and marshes were most fond of seeking riches from dangerous situations. If they encountered fated opportunities, they would immediately develop the dare to charge over and take risks. Thus, one was guaranteed to see vagrant cultivators rushing over in hordes if the thatched cottage of some ancient Spiritual Master was uncovered, if some mystical realm formed from the shattered remains of a blessed land was discovered, and so on. These vagrant cultivators would then smash each other's brains out as they fought for those valuable spirit tools and immortal tools.

Yet, what was the purpose of all this? Indeed, this was simply to experience the thrill and pleasure of suppressing others and crushing them underfoot. After obtaining these powerful artifacts, one could either use them to wantonly kill others, or use them to become near-invincible to all kinds of attacks. They could instill a sense of utter despair in their opponents.

The sword cultivator casually strolled around the battlefield as his flying sword sliced through the air within a radius of three hundred meters, leaving brilliant rays of sword light in its wake and causing flashes of bright red to spray across the sky and paint especially sanguinary afterimages.

The pure martial artist followed the middle-aged sword cultivator like a shadow, tightly guarding him from all sides.

The middle-aged sword cultivator was just like his flying sword, appearing extremely crisp and clean as he moved. He didn't waste his energy on any unnecessary movement.

However, the hulking martial artist was the exact opposite. He was a cruel and violent person to begin with, yet he was unable to let loose and charge after those mounted troops at this moment. He felt truly stifled, unable to fight to his heart's content.

Thus, each time he came across a severely wounded soldier who had fallen from their horse, he would ruthlessly crush their head under his foot regardless of whether they were dead or alive. Sometimes, he would also stomp on their chest and cause their mangled flesh and bones to blend together with their shattered armor. It was a harrowing sight.

Now, however, a person had suddenly fallen from the sky?

The middle-aged sword cultivator glanced at the person blocking their path as he came to a halt. He smiled and asked in the official dialect of the continent, "Are you the new guest elder of the Great Quan Empire's Liu Clan?"

Parasol Leaf Continent had many mountains and rivers separating the different regions from one another, so according to the immortal book in Chen Ping'an's possession, there existed far more dialects in this continent than Eastern Treasured Vial Continent.

As a result, it was often the case that people in different regions spoke different dialects and adhered to different customs. Because of this, the upper echelons of the empires and nations in this continent would typically be fluent in the official dialect of the continent. This was especially the case for officials from the Ministry of Rites.

"Why speak nonsense with him?" the hulking martial artist huffed in annoyance. "Just cut him down and be done with it. He's nothing more than a martial artist under the seventh tier, and killing young martial arts prodigies like this is even more thrilling and satisfying."

"To have another big fish appear out of nowhere... Does this not align with my wishes?" the sword cultivator replied with a smile.

Even though the sword cultivator stopped to interact with Chen Ping'an, his deadly flying sword was still hovering over the fleeing cavalrymen from the Yao Clan.

Apart from the very beginning, when he had joined forces with the pure martial artist to kill that cultivator accompanying the Yao Clan's mounted troops—an extremely dangerous battle—the sword cultivator had simply controlled his flying sword to pick off the outer ring of cavalrymen first, especially those who tried to break free and flee. These were the rules of his game.

The old man being protected by the cavalrymen was wearing the same armor as everyone else—this was most likely the standard light armor for the Great Quan Empire's border army. He was clutching his abdomen at this moment, and blood continued to seep out from between his fingers.

Even though his condition was miserable, the old man's expression remained calm and relaxed the entire time. He didn't appear defeated or afraid at all.

Many of his elite soldiers had already died or suffered severe wounds while trying to protect him, and the deceased young men would no longer have the chance to return home in glory. In fact, they hadn't even died a gallant and heroic death while battling against an enemy nation on the border. Rather, they had fallen victim to this filthy and repulsive battle between political opponents.

There was guilt and grief in the depths of the old man's eyes, yet he didn't allow these emotions to creep onto his face.

Having fought on horseback for dozens of years, he was already no stranger to death and tragic partings. In any case, those who were compassionate couldn't command an army.[1] As such, this old general who wielded paramount power on the southern border of the nation was surprisingly calm and composed at this moment.

The surviving hundred or so cavalrymen continued to guard the old general with their lives. They didn't back down in fear just because the two assassins were overwhelmingly powerful.

The Yao Clan was incredibly strict and disciplined when it came to training troops.

For example, descendants in the Yao Clan were expected to be skilled in riding and archery in their youth, regardless of whether they were legitimate descendants or illegitimate ones. After turning fifteen, they were then required to join the army and start from the lowest rank of scout soldier. Because of these clan rules, countless young men from the Yao Clan had already died on the border of the nation.

In fact, the situation was so severe that the Yao Clan was renowned throughout several nations for its number of widows.

Chen Ping'an didn't turn around to look at the mounted troops, and he instead asked the old general a very strange question. "General, is your surname Yao? Are your ancestors related to the Yao Clan that's located in Eastern Treasured Vial Continent's Great Li Empire?"

The old man furrowed his brows and replied, "The Great Li Empire? I've never heard of it before."

He then hesitated for a moment before continuing, "However, the ancestors of the Great Quan Empire's Yao Clan did indeed come from Eastern Treasured Vial Continent. As for where exactly they came from, our ancestors were very reluctant to reveal that.

"When instructing someone to record the clan genealogy back then, they simply mentioned the fact that they had come from some dragon kiln. They also told us a bit about the culture and customs of their hometown. However, they explicitly prohibited us from going to Eastern Treasured Vial Continent to search for our roots."

"General, did your ancestors ever mention the name of any alley or... a towering willow tree that was lush with leaves?" Chen Ping'an asked.

Even though the old man wanted to nod very badly, as this would perhaps allow him to get closer to this strange person and thus gain a sliver of a chance to stay alive, his honest and upright nature was such that he couldn't engage in dishonest acts. Moreover, this pertained to his ancestry, so how could he, a descendant, carelessly lie about it?

The old man's voice was solemn as he replied, "They never mentioned any alley, nor did they mention any willow tree. They simply stated that the locust tree in their hometown was quite fragrant. This was a locust tree that had been nurtured for generation after generation. In fact, the Great Quan Empire's Yao Clan also has a thousand-year-old locust tree in the courtyard of our ancestral residence."

Only after hearing this did Chen Ping'an turn around to look at the old man, nodding and saying with a smile, "I understand."

The old man grew increasingly puzzled. What had this young boy understood?

The sword cultivator appeared to be waiting for an outcome as well, with his eyes darting around the entire time. Seemingly receiving the outcome that he desired, he asked in an amused voice, "Have the two of you finished your small talk yet? If you're finished, then let's get to the proper matters now."

Chen Ping'an rested his hands on the hilt of Deep Infatuation and Halting Snow as he asked, "Has someone paid you to perform this assassination? Are the two of you receiving money to eliminate dangers for your client?"

"You speak so much nonsense," the middle-aged sword cultivator remarked with an exasperated expression.

"This isn't usual for me, so it's quite the coincidence that you're witnessing it," Chen Ping'an said with a smile.

Mingling among the mounted troops of the Yao Clan, there was a young cavalryman whose appearance was slightly similar to that of the old man. He glanced at the viciously cruel sword cultivator who had cut them down as if he were cutting wheat, and glanced at the young boy dressed in white robes who had nothing but pure wind in his sleeves. The young cavalryman was at a complete loss and had no clue what was going on.

A young and courageous general two generations younger than the old general finally found the opportunity to catch his breath and say a few words. He had only been able to flee just then, and he had been completely helpless as his brothers in arms had been killed by that flying sword one after another. He was extremely disheveled, and there was a deep and bloody gash on his face.

The young man only in his twenties was in an extremely pitiful state, yet he paid absolutely no heed to this as he said in a quiet voice, "General, judging by how powerful the mystical abilities of that sinister person's flying sword are, we shouldn't have released the signal to seek reinforcements from Third Grandpa and Jiu Niang."

The old man was staring at Chen Ping'an the entire time, and upon hearing his trusted subordinate's statement, he chuckled coldly and replied, "We're a target, but we're also the bait."

The young general was clearly a direct descendant of the Yao Clan who knew many inside secrets of the border army and the imperial court, so he asked in a careful voice, "Then the imperial court's act of secretly mobilizing more than half of the cultivators from our army and redeploying them to the battle between Commandery Governor Jin Huang and Pine Needle Lake's water god...?"

The old general sighed with emotion and replied in a low voice, "This can be viewed as an open scheme employed by those people in the background. While causing the enemy nation in the south to lose some strength and vitality through an internal conflict, it could also serve to lead us into this trap. This definitely isn't a scheme that the Fanlu Ma Clan could come up with..."

Chen Ping'an turned around and asked, "Dare I ask, Old General, why are you being pursued by these two people?"

"Perhaps due to some grudges from the battlefield," the old man replied with a smile.

This assassination plot pertained to some dirty secrets of the Great Quan Empire's imperial court, so the old man was naturally unwilling to reveal too much to Chen Ping'an.

For generation after generation, the Yao Clan's border army had always been loyal to the Imperial Liu Clan and distanced themselves from any conflicts in the imperial court. They would serve whoever became emperor, and would refuse to involve themselves in any internal power struggles.

In the past ten years, however, an unfortunate incident had taken place.

According to the rules of the Yao Clan, females in the clan were prohibited from marrying into wealthy clans from outside the region. They were only allowed to marry into local clans.

However, the old man's young daughter had fallen in love with a traveling youth back then, and the young man had also possessed impressive character and knowledge. Not only that, but the two of them had also fought side-by-side and gone through thick and thin together.

This should have led to a happy marriage and caused them to become the envy of everyone, yet the old man had adhered to the clan rules and disapproved of this relationship. His daughter was indeed a loyal member of the Yao Clan, and she had silently endured the pain of being separated from her lover. She had written him a letter to sever their relationship once and for all.

Unexpectedly, however, that young man from a top-notch clan in the Great Quan Empire—the eldest son of the Ministry of Personnel's head minister—had traveled to the border again, braving the heavy snow and kneeling outside the ancestral hall of the Yao Clan for an entire day and night. Everyone in the Yao Clan had been moved by his sincerity.

In the end, with no further reason to break the two lovers apart, the old man had eventually agreed to a wedding between his daughter and the young man. However, not a single member of the Yao Clan from the old man's generation had traveled to the capital to attend the wedding. Afterward, his daughter had never returned home to visit either.

Moreover, not a single letter was sent between the old man and his daughter's father-in-law, that lofty and influential head minister who controlled the promotion and demotion of officials.

Even though the Yao Clan had already been so "cold and unreasonable," they had still been unable to erase the fact that the woman's surname was Yao.

They had only broken the clan rule a single time, yet ten years later, they were now facing an immense hidden danger that threatened to destroy the entire Yao Clan.

The first signs of trouble had appeared last year, when the Fanlu Ma Clan—the arch-enemy of the Ministry of Personnel's head minister—had secretly instructed the imperial censor to impeach the head minister. The infuriated emperor severely reprimanded the head minister, terrifying him so much that he had immediately written a resignation letter upon returning home.

His choice of words had painted a tragic picture, reading, "My body frail and age old, I'm inferior to even a little child in my current state. I have but two or three teeth remaining, and I grow further from the notion of fresh and immortal every day."

The head minister thus asked to resign.

However, the emperor had denied his resignation, and in the end, the head minister's reputation had plummeted to a shocking low.

This deep-rooted battle between political opponents was only one aspect of things, and the truly troublesome aspect was the involvement of the Great Quan Empire's princes. Many outsiders who didn't follow the rules had arrived in the capital, and they had even been granted important positions in the imperial court, allowing them to add fuel to the fire.

What was interesting was that all three princes of the empire were extremely outstanding individuals, with each skilled in their own area. In fact, each of them would have been impressive enough to be granted the title of crown prince in any of the previous generations of the Great Quan Empire.

Officials in the capital rose and fell, while generals in the border cities marched east and west. There was a dizzying amount of things going on in the imperial court.

The situation was so severe that even the Yao Clan's border army was unable to remove themselves from these power struggles between officials. This was a clear reflection of just how dangerous the undercurrents swirling through the imperial court of the Great Quan Empire were.

1. This is a Chinese proverb implying that those who are too compassionate might not be effective in situations that require strong leadership and decisive action. ?