Founding the Demon Cult and Taking Mu Wanqing and Zhong Ling as Disciples

Ye Zhuo stepped out of the Scripture Pavilion.

Figures stood all around, terrified and uneasy. Not one dared approach.

Ye Zhuo's strength was terrifying. No one knew what had happened inside.

However many warrior monks there were, all they could do was watch helplessly as Ye Zhuo walked away.

Only after he was gone did they dare enter the Scripture Pavilion.

At the sight of the Sweeper Monk and Jiumozhi, they pieced together what had happened, and cold sweat broke out across their backs.

"He killed the senior who captured Jiumozhi, then killed Jiumozhi too—all by himself!"

The eminent monks pressed their palms together and silently chanted Amitabha's name.

"Are we to let this matter rest? This old monk cannot swallow such an insult!"

"What else can we do? Those three brothers are riding high. In one battle, they defeated Old Monster of Xingxiu, You Tanzhi, and Murong Fu. Even Jiumozhi died."

"Exactly. Xiao Feng, Xu Zhu, and Duan Yu are renowned throughout the land. They're starting to look like the supreme powers of the martial world!"

Supreme powers of the martial world?

The eminent monks scoffed at the words.

Heroes were nothing special. Time would wear them down and claim every last one of their lives.

Time was the blade that slew all heroes.

Xiao Feng had become a Khitan prince. Xu Zhu would eventually travel far from home, while Duan Yu had to inherit his family's realm and become the emperor of Dali.

In the end, the three brothers would go their separate ways. How could they amount to anything then?

The Beggar's Gang, once the largest gang under heaven, had suffered heavy losses. The rising Xingxiu Sect had been eliminated, and the Murong Clan, a martial family, had withered away.

When all was said and done, the