"Is that still not all?" Fat Steward stared, looking a little dazed.
How many mountains had he taken down?
The overlords of nearly all those mountains had been wiped out!
Setting everything else aside, the mountains around Myriad Sword Pavilion rarely had demonic beasts of this level. You had to travel a long way to find them.
The disciples sorting out the storehouse were just as dumbfounded, staring at the bodies of the demonic beasts.
Had he wiped out an entire tribe?
A whole pack of Three-Eyed Demonic Wolves!
Had an Inner Sect Disciple at the Foundation Establishment Realm made a move?
Terrifying!
And the other demonic beasts that had undergone Demonic Transformation weren't all from the Three-Eyed Demonic Wolf pack, either. Some excelled in speed, while others were known for their physical toughness. Without exception, they were all lying there.
"Not all of them." Yun Shu smiled. "I certainly can't sell the best ones off cheap. You can estimate the price for these."
"Your earlier mission reward was thirty-seven Spirit Stones. Add these, along with these low-grade spirit herbs, and I'll give you a hundred. How does that sound?"
"So one demonic beast at the Demonic Transformation level is worth only two Spirit Stones?" Yun Shu pointed at one of the Three-Eyed Demon Wolves, seeming dissatisfied with the price.
"Even if you took it down the mountain, it'd only fetch two or three Spirit Stones. Look at these wolves—how many of them are intact? You're lucky to get this much for them. The only Wolf King you had was split in two by your blade, which slashed its value considerably." Fat Steward shook his head. "An intact Wolf King could easily be worth ten Spirit Stones."
Yun Shu fell silent.
So that was how it worked.
He'd forgotten about that.
But at the time, he'd been too caught up in the thrill of killing to think about it.
Thinking about it now, he supposed it was decent enough that he could get some money for the bodies.
Luckily, he still had a few intact demonic beast corpses in his Storage Bag. Otherwise, he would've lost out badly.
"Fine." Yun Shu nodded.
Fat Steward smiled. "This price hasn't shortchanged you. Just look around—what Outer Sect Disciple at the Qi Condensation Stage has a more impressive fortune than you?"
He then handed over a hundred Spirit Stones. This time, they weren't packed in a Jade Box; he simply poured them out of his Storage Bag and gave them to Yun Shu.
Yun Shu was happy to accept them.
As for the fortune of a Qi Condensation cultivator, Yun Shu figured he could save up that much by taking a few more missions.
It seemed the sect wasn't entirely heartless. At least it made sure its disciples wouldn't be unable to cultivate for lack of Cultivation Resources. As long as they were diligent, even taking missions could earn them a decent amount.
Those who didn't want to take risks could accept lower-level missions, too. The rewards were proportional to the effort, which made sense.
At last, Yun Shu took the letter he'd gotten from the Old Master out of his robes.
"This letter was found at Dust Avoiding Villa in the Gufeng Dynasty. Deacon Kong, please take a look."
Fat Steward first examined Yun Shu, then glanced at the letter.
It didn't take long for him to spot a golden pattern on it. His eyes narrowed, and a dangerous glint appeared in them. "A letter from the Golden Cauldron Sect?"
"Yes." Yun Shu nodded.
Fat Steward slowly took it from him and opened it. As he unfolded the letter, something seemed to come to mind, and the dangerous glint in his eyes grew stronger.
Yun Shu didn't leave right away.
He waited nearby for a while.
"Good. I understand." After reading it from beginning to end, Fat Steward put the letter away. His expression had settled, and he smiled as before, as though nothing had happened.
Only then did Yun Shu cup his hands slightly. "Then I'll take my leave."
"Good." Fat Steward nodded. "If you come across more demonic beast corpses like these, come find me again."
"I will."
After Yun Shu left, Kong Li took the letter out again and sat in silence for a long time.
Then, after some time had passed, he strode outside.
That was the area where the Menial Disciples lived.
The Old Man looked at Deacon Kong and remained silent for a moment. "What brings you here?"
"Your good disciple brought back a letter. The Golden Cauldron Sect has already sent disciples to the Gufeng Dynasty. I imagine it's because of the Ancient Mine there. They still haven't given up on it." Seeing how calm the Old Man was, Fat Steward spoke with even more anger.
The gaunt Old Man lowered his eyes slightly and murmured, "They deserve to die."
Fat Steward gave a soft scoff. "If they deserve to die, then do something about it!"
"The letter is in your hands now, and they've already made their move. We need to come up with a plan. If we confront them head-on, the Golden Cauldron Sect has a Major Sect backing it, while we have no one. We'd be completely isolated and without support. A direct clash wouldn't be wise, but it might be our only way out of this predicament."
The Old Man slowly closed his eyes. "A Major Sect... If they hadn't put pressure on us back then, Chen Hong wouldn't have been buried in the Ancient Mine. And now they still dare to bully us. Do they really think Myriad Sword Pavilion is made of clay?"
Fat Steward understood what was on the Old Man's mind. He spoke from beside him. "Things have come to this. We need to settle on a plan. Will we keep swallowing our anger, or will we fight back? It's all up to you. If you make a decision, the Sect Master won't say much."
The Old Man's hand slowly clenched into a fist. His face remained ashen.
After a long while, the Old Man finally let out a sigh and slowly loosened his tightly clenched hand. "Let's wait a little longer."
"Wait?" Fat Steward's voice suddenly rose. Gritting his teeth, he said, "If we wait any longer, they'll be walking all over us! What are you waiting for? How far do they have to push us before you'll do something? I wish I could storm the Golden Cauldron Sect right now and cut down those three bastards."
"You have the strength to do that, but what happens afterward?" The Old Man looked at Fat Steward. "Would Myriad Sword Pavilion's lineage be wiped out completely? The lives of tens of thousands are in our hands. We can't let our anger make every decision."
"The sect is in ruins. Even if we were made of iron, how many nails could we hammer in?"
"We still have to wait until the sect has recovered some of its strength. The Sword Pavilion will open again soon, and many powerful people should join our sect then. Once that happens, Myriad Sword Pavilion will be firmly established, and we can wait for the right moment to act."
"Let the younger generation grow up. We need to wait a little longer." The Old Man spoke slowly. "There are still many promising disciples in this generation."
"But do you know? A few days ago, Chu Huangyue was ambushed while she was out. They called them bandits, but it looked more like the Golden Cauldron Sect was behind it. Those people will stop at nothing to seize the Ancient Mine from us and swallow up Myriad Sword Pavilion!"
Fat Steward's voice turned accusatory. "Back then, Chen Hong was ambushed by a Formation Array in the Ancient Mine, and you swallowed your anger without doing a thing. Now it's Chu Huangyue. Maybe Qin Lingyu will be next—or Yun Shu!"
The Old Man's eyes flickered, but soon his expression returned to calm. "I told you, these things aren't ours to decide. We have to lie low. The survival of the Immortal Sect rests in my hands, and so do the lives of tens of thousands. I can't bury Myriad Sword Pavilion's ten-thousand-year legacy because of my own selfish desires."
"The fire's already at our eyebrows, and you still want us to lie low? Look at Myriad Sword Pavilion now. What do we have left to lose? A thousand years ago, we were Yunzhou's Super Sect. Now even large sects walk all over us. Three years. I'll give you three years. If you still can't make the call then, I will!" Fat Steward snapped.
The Old Man remained silent.
He didn't say another word or give any response. He knew Kong Li was full of resentment, so he let him speak.
Kong Li had once been the sect's greatest prodigy, and his cultivation had reached the Foundation Establishment Realm.
Back then, he and Chen Hong had been the closest of partners, practically inseparable.
When Chen Hong was attacked in the Ancient Mine, Kong Li had been ambushed by mysterious attackers elsewhere. Though he had survived by sheer luck, he'd been left with injuries all over his body and could no longer cultivate.
In the end, they had merely assigned him the position of an Outer Sect Deacon.
Ten years had passed. The Old Man couldn't see through Kong Li's strength anymore. He didn't know what Kong Li had endured or what fortuitous opportunities he'd come across. He only knew that the sect had wronged him.
When the sect's two greatest geniuses had been attacked, the sect had not only done nothing; it had even covered up what happened.
Now, except for those who had been part of that generation, everyone in the sect had forgotten Kong Li's existence.
But what could the Old Man do?
It had been the unanimous decision of the sect's upper ranks. Back then, he had personally killed two Golden Cauldron Sect Elders at the Foundation Establishment Realm and dragged them along to the grave.
But what then?
Should he fight the Golden Cauldron Sect to the death?
He could have taken several of their top figures down with him, but Myriad Sword Pavilion couldn't withstand the wrath of a Major Sect. Would thousands of years of inheritance be destroyed in an instant?
The lives of tens of thousands were in his hands. They could have had a better future, yet should they be made to die alongside him because of one impulsive decision?
Kong Li was right. The Old Man was hesitating, and even now, he still couldn't find peace of mind.
He had sat alone for countless years, constantly tempering his body, while his heart had been tormented day and night.
That was his disciple, yet he couldn't avenge him.
Because he wasn't strong enough.
Not strong enough!
Unless he was powerful enough to stand unrivaled beneath the heavens, the weak could only live in humiliation.
He had fire in his blood, but charging in without regard for the consequences was the act of a reckless fool.
He was waiting for the sect to grow stronger.
Once they could stand against a Major Sect, there would be plenty of time to deal with the Golden Cauldron Sect.
At the same time, he was waiting to grow stronger himself.
Unfortunately, his aptitude was limited. No matter how much perseverance he had, all he could do was temper his physical strength a little further. He couldn't do much else.
"Still, the disciple you took in is quite good." Before leaving, Fat Steward looked back and said, "He'll surely surpass you one day. His cultivation technique has already reached Great Accomplishment, and his physical strength alone is comparable to a cultivator at the peak of Qi Condensation."
Then he strode away.
Before you continue