Yan Long stood before the mountain gate of Dragon Arising Temple, gripping a broad saber in reverse in his right hand and planting it against the stone steps, gouging a hole into them. He stood nearly two meters tall, clad in black armor and black trousers, his powerful arms exposed. His weathered face still carried a trace of pride between his brows, and his graying hair hung loose like a lion's mane.
He looked to be over sixty, yet his physical strength surpassed that of most young men.
The disciples of Dragon Arising Temple stood in rows before the small bridge, ready for battle. None of them were nervous; instead, they were somewhat excited.
They could watch the Taoist Priest fight again!
Soon, Jiang Changsheng arrived, and the disciples swiftly made way for him.
Jiang Changsheng stopped and sized Yan Long up. His True Qi was impressive. He truly was a hidden expert.
After Sword Madman's death, what ordinary martial artists would dare climb the mountain to issue a challenge? Those who came were either Peerless Experts or men close to death. Clearly, Yan Long was both.
Yan Long was also studying Jiang Changsheng, secretly startled. This Taoist Priest looked so young, scarcely older than a half-grown child. Had he truly suppressed half the martial world?
Yan Long suddenly spotted Xu Tianji holding a broom and could not help sneering. "The mighty Returning Origin Divine Sect Master has actually fallen so low as to sweep the floor for another."
Xu Tianji said indifferently, "I may be sweeping the floor, but I'm still alive. You'll be dead soon enough. This broom of mine is for collecting your corpse."
The two were locked in a clash of sharp words, clearly bearing old grudges.
Yan Long could not be bothered to trade barbs with him. He turned his gaze back to Jiang Changsheng and said, "Changsheng Taoist Priest, make your move. Do not hold back. Let this old man witness the true strength of a Martial Arts Myth. Better yet, let this old man die here."
Jiang Changsheng drew the Taihang Sword and smiled. "I can grant you that."
This man was too old. Even if he were kept alive to guard the mountain, he would only last a few years. Better to kill him outright.
Yan Long's gaze sharpened. He suddenly raised his saber and slashed. He was incredibly fast; with one slash, afterimages flickered in succession, as though dozens of blades had struck at once. Countless saber qi swept toward Jiang Changsheng like a storm, their momentum vast enough to move every disciple present.
Such powerful saber qi! Compared to Sword Madman, its strength was visible to the naked eye, making people tremble without realizing it.
Jiang Changsheng raised the Taihang Sword even faster. Pointing it at Yan Long, he flicked his wrist, and an even more violent Sword Qi burst from the blade, crushing forward with the force of mountains toppling and seas overturning, instantly dispersing the raging saber qi.
"That is... How is that possible!"
Yan Long's eyes widened, filled with terror.
Rumble—
The thunderous crash from Dragon Arising Mountain startled the city's residents. Countless people turned to look, only to see a spectacular sight atop the mountain: a visible wave of air tore through the sea of clouds from the summit, stretching a thousand zhang into the distance as if it had ripped open the heavens.
The breathtaking spectacle left all who saw it awestruck. The Thirteen Heavenly Lodestar Assassins and Disaster Buddha within the prince's manor all landed atop the rooftops, watching Dragon Arising Temple warily.
"That Demonic Taoist is getting stronger and stronger..."
Gui Liu murmured to himself. The others shared the same thought.
At the mountaintop, before Dragon Arising Temple's gate.
The Sword Qi dissipated, and the wind and clouds seemed about to settle.
Everyone looked toward Yan Long and drew in a sharp breath.
Yan Long had become a man drenched in blood. His entire body shook before he collapsed straight forward with a thud, blood splashing across the ground. His saber also clattered down.
Jiang Changsheng spoke expressionlessly. "Send Senior Mad Blade Yan Long into Hero's Graveyard."
With that, he turned and left. Every disciple watched him with reverence and awe, as did Xu Tianji, Jiang Ziyu, Huang Chuan, Wang Chen, and the others.
In the distance, Hua Jian Xin stood on a rooftop in white robes, lowering her head slightly. A soft snort came from beneath her mask. "He really knows how to put on a show."
Her voice was brimming with amusement.
The disciples erupted into cheers. Their Taoist Priest's display filled them with pride and glory.
After returning to his room, a line of text appeared before Jiang Changsheng's eyes:
In the fortieth year of Kaiyuan, Mad Blade Yan Long came seeking entry into Hero's Graveyard. You successfully survived his challenge, overcoming a calamity of death. You have received a survival reward—martial art: 'Slaughter God Demon Blade.'
A martial art?
It was somewhat lacking, but having one more skill was still good. He could pass it down to Dragon Arising Temple and use it as another means of concealment when facing enemies beyond his power in the future.
Jiang Changsheng began inheriting the Slaughter God Demon Blade.
The Slaughter God Demon Blade was as its name suggested: a saber art for slaying gods, a saber art that entered demonic madness. It was exceptionally tyrannical. Through slaughter, it continuously strengthened one's saber qi and could even burn one's vital blood to bolster it. It was an extreme martial art that easily shortened one's lifespan, but in a desperate situation, it might carve out a path to survival.
Mad Blade met his downfall at Dragon Arising Temple and was buried in Hero's Graveyard. The news swiftly spread throughout the Great Jing martial world, once again changing Changsheng Taoist Priest's image in the minds of martial artists, especially when they recalled his heavenly tribulation.
He was no human!
The title Immortal Master Changsheng gradually began to spread. It started with those who believed in Jiang Changsheng spreading the name, then gained the recognition of more and more people. Only by acknowledging Jiang Changsheng as an Immortal Master could martial artists find a sliver of comfort.
No matter how powerful an expert was, they seemed utterly incapable of withstanding a single blow before Jiang Changsheng. He was too powerful—so powerful that all other experts paled into insignificance.
About a month after Mad Blade's fall, Wan Li returned with the disciples, bringing more than fifty new disciples, all homeless orphans.
"Taoist Priest, your incantation was far too long! When I recited it before, I nearly got cut down. Then I realized I could use it as soon as I infused it with True Qi. You were fooling me!"
Wan Li sat before Jiang Changsheng and complained resentfully. The others in the courtyard could not help laughing, while Xu Tianji clutched his stomach and laughed uproariously, mocking Wan Li for being too honest.
Jiang Changsheng said, "Sincerity brings spiritual efficacy. In an emergency, you need not do that. Judge for yourself."
Wan Li was merely venting. The talisman papers really were useful. He said excitedly, "Quite a few sects want to buy talisman papers from us. Taoist Priest, this could become a major business."
Jiang Changsheng shook his head. "Is the incense money not enough for you to earn? Where would I get so many talisman papers? I need to cultivate as well."
That was the truth. Talisman papers imprinted with spells consumed spiritual power. If he supplied them in bulk, how was he supposed to cultivate?
Wan Li scratched his head and said no more. He then began boasting to Jiang Ziyu and Huang Chuan about his experiences wandering the martial world over the past two years, making the two youths yearn for it. Yet the good times did not last: Xu Tianji jumped in midway to show off. His stories were even more exciting, making the two youths all the more curious.
Spring passed and summer arrived. It was early July.
Terrible news came from Great Jing's Northern Border. Prince Qin Jiang Yu and his elite forces had encountered an encirclement by an army of four hundred thousand. Gu Han's two Grandmasters joined forces and slew twenty-two generals in succession. Under Zong Tianwu's escort, Prince Qin fought his way out of the encirclement, but seventy to eighty percent of his army had been killed or wounded. Nearly a hundred thousand soldiers had become bleached bones, and blood flowed into rivers.
This army had been Prince Qin's elite, previously invincible in every battle. Such a disastrous defeat filled Great Jing's civil and military officials, as well as its people, with fear.
"Trash! Utter trash!"
Within the Golden Luan Hall, Jiang Yu roared, trembling with rage.
A general could not help saying, "Your Highness, Prince Qin has accomplished many merits after all. What army has never known defeat?"
Jiang Yu glared at him. "If Prince Qin had not greedily sought merit, would this have happened?"
He cursed loudly, leaving the general flushed with humiliation and fury.
Jiang Yuan sat upon the dragon throne, expressionless and silent.
By now, Jiang Yu already showed signs of monopolizing power. He did not consult Jiang Yuan on many matters and simply issued orders directly. This sign had begun when Jiang Yu remarried and made his illegitimate son his legitimate eldest son.
Jiang Yu calmed himself and snorted. "Gu Han has three Grandmasters and thinks itself invincible. I shall invite four experts no weaker than Grandmasters to go there and wipe out Gu Han's three Grandmasters. Let us see whether they still dare act arrogantly. Pass down the order: I shall personally lead the campaign!"
At those words, the civil and military officials looked at one another, but no one tried to stop him. Even if Jiang Yu died, it would not matter. There were plenty of Imperial Sons anyway.
Elsewhere.
Within Dragon Arising Temple, Jiang Changsheng lay atop White Dragon. White Dragon's serpent body was now much wider than Jiang Changsheng's shoulders, fully capable of serving as a bed. He used the Kirin Whisk to cover his eyes, appearing to take a nap, though he was actually examining his incense value.
Recently, his incense value had surged, already surpassing seven hundred.
He had figured something out. When Great Jing faced danger, incense value rose quickly. Mortals could only pray for immortals and gods to protect them. When Great Jing was peaceful, mortals were busy earning money and surviving. When life held hope, they instead had little reason to believe in immortals, gods, or the Heavenly Dao.
Of course, the main issue was that information traveled too slowly. Those who could come to Dragon Arising Temple to burn incense were not ordinary commoners. If commoners wished to learn of his miracles, they still had to rely on Dragon Arising Temple's disciples traveling the martial world and spreading his teachings.
There was one point he still could not figure out. When a person worshipped him, that counted as one point of incense value. After the value had been consumed, such as after the heavenly tribulation, would that person's incense value appear again? Perhaps the more than seven hundred points included those earlier worshippers, but the survival system offered no explanation. He could only passively accept it.
No matter what, incense value merely added flowers to brocade. It absolutely could not become the core of what he relied on. Cultivation still had to come first.
After breaking through the sixth level, he had not stopped cultivating. According to the pattern, his next breakthrough would likely come decades later, and that was with daily cultivation. If he slacked off every few days, it might take more than a century.
"What? You want to enlist? Nonsense! You're only eleven years old. Have you gone mad?"
Wang Chen's voice came from nearby. It turned out that after Jiang Ziyu learned of Prince Qin's crushing defeat, he wanted to join the army. However, Jiang Changsheng was now the person he respected most, so he had to ask Jiang Changsheng about every decision.
Jiang Ziyu craned his neck and said, "I may be young, but my martial arts already surpass those of ordinary soldiers. And Ping'an can come with me. Didn't Uncle Tianji say Ping'an can already tear Peerless Experts apart with his bare hands?"
Xu Tianji hurriedly cried, "That was an exaggeration! If a Peerless Expert stood still and let him hit them, they truly could not withstand it. But Peerless Experts would definitely dodge!"
Jiang Ziyu glared at him, deeply displeased. Xu Tianji glared back provocatively. He was a sect master of his generation, after all.
"Just you wait. One day, I'll make the Returning Origin Divine Sect submit to me and make you follow my army into battle," Jiang Ziyu shouted.
Xu Tianji picked at his ear and said, "My Little Prince Wei, unless you become emperor, even if your father wants to make you Crown Prince, how many years will you still have to wait before taking the throne? By then, I might already be in Hero's Graveyard."
Hero's Graveyard had already become famous. Many martial arts experts came under the pretext of burning incense to visit it. The two tombstones of Sword Madman and Mad Blade alone were enough to make those of the martial world yearn for it. Xu Tianji planned to be buried here in the future as well, so as not to lose the prestige of a martial arts overlord of his generation.
"Enough, Ziyu. Do not rush. Your master shall teach you something now."
Jiang Changsheng's voice drifted over, and Jiang Ziyu immediately ran over to listen attentively.
"If you wish to fulfill the ambition in your heart, the timing of your entrance is crucial."
Jiang Changsheng said unhurriedly, "When a great building is about to collapse, only then should you turn the tide. That is when your merit will be greatest, and when you will be closest to the throne. If you enlist now, you will most likely be marching to your death. Even if you achieve merit, it will be minor. Wait a few more years. By then, both you and Ping'an will possess the valor to stand against ten thousand men, and only then can you win over more generals."
Jiang Ziyu frowned. He understood all the reasoning, but he feared he would not have time to wait.
"What if Great Jing suffers a crushing defeat in these next few years?"
"So what if it loses? The lands of the Thirteen Provinces are vast. Even the fall of a nation cannot happen in just a few years."
"What if Gu Han reaches the capital, reaches the Son of Heaven's feet?"
"Then your master shall teach you how to truly turn the tide."
Jiang Ziyu was shaken by Jiang Changsheng's calm words. What kind of formidable strength did it take to speak such confidence-filled words, words he could not even refute?
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