Chapter Seventy-Five: The Founding Patriarch

"I did not intend to cripple Master Wang Lu's martial arts," he said, "but knowing that Wang Lu, as your senior brother, is closely connected to those of the demonic path, and might someday succumb to its temptations, I couldn't help but act, removing a hidden threat for the sake of righteousness in the martial world."

"Yet heaven cherishes life. As a leader of the younger generation of the righteous sects, I do not wish to indulge in needless killing, lest I set a poor example for others. Thus, I spared Wang Lu's life."

Hearing this, Meng He shook his head lightly and sighed. "So, I should thank you for your mercy in sparing my senior brother's life?"

Li Ju crossed his arms, his tall frame looming over Meng He. "Ah, Brother Meng, that's unnecessary. I merely did what needed to be done," Meng He replied, waving a hand.

Li Ju gazed at Meng He in silence, the air inside the pavilion growing nearly stagnant. Suddenly, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Li Ju's lips. "Interesting."

"Is that the Jade Token?" Li Ju's gaze fell upon the jade ornament at Meng He's waist.

Since becoming the Grand Elder of the Demonic Sect, Li Ju had spent much time in its library, gathering knowledge, and among the records he studied, the matter of divine weapons in this world was paramount.

According to the sect's archives, there were fifteen divine weapons within the Chen Kingdom: eight held by the Demonic Sect, five by the Seven-Three Sect, one by the Temple of Dharma, and one by Mount Taibai.

The Jade Token was one of the five divine weapons of the Seven-Three Sect, famed for its defensive abilities. In history, an internal martial arts master once used it to withstand the attacks of three minor masters for half an hour without pause.

That the Jade Token lasted only half an hour was solely because the master wielding it lacked the vital energy to sustain its power.

"Brother Li, your insight is sharp indeed. The jade I wear at my waist is none other than the divine Jade Token," Meng He said, gently stroking the ornament and smiling at Li Ju.

"It seems your sect values you highly, entrusting you with the Jade Token for protection," Li Ju remarked.

"The elders merely acknowledge my talent," Meng He replied modestly, shaking his head.

"But do you think a Jade Token alone will let you leave unscathed from my hands? You must know, though the Jade Token is powerful, you are but a mere internal martial artist. With your trifling force, how long can you sustain its consumption?"

Li Ju narrowed his eyes at Meng He. "Brother Li, your might is unmatched. Even Elder Tan Hai of my sect, wielding two divine weapons, could not defeat you, but was instead slain, and our two weapons fell into your hands."

"With my humble strength, even with the Jade Token, I cannot claim I could survive your hand."

"But..."

Meng He paused, a gentle smile blossoming on his face.

"Brother Li, how do you know I came here alone?"

As his words faded, an aged figure, leaning on a cane, entered through the pavilion door. His body blocked the entrance, casting a shadow over the room.

"Cough, cough..."

The old man passed by Li Ju, coughing all the way, and came to stand beside Meng He.

Li Ju watched the figure pass, noting his form wrapped in a black robe, his exposed skin dry and shriveled like bark, mottled with dark age spots.

A hand, like a skeleton covered in skin, emerged from the robe, gripping a battered wooden stick as a cane. His steps were slow, his body trembling with each movement, as if he might collapse at any moment.

"Greetings, Ancestor," Meng He said, bowing respectfully.

"...Cough, cough... Rise," the old man replied, never ceasing his violent coughing, seeming as if he might cough out his lungs any moment.

"The stench of decay," Li Ju remarked, staring at the elder. "From you, I smell only the rot of the dead. You should have died long ago."

Li Ju fixed his gaze on the old man. He sensed a heavy aura of death from him, with only the faintest trace of life—so weak that even a freshly dead corpse might have more vitality than this elder.

"You are...cough, cough... not wrong," the old man rasped. "I should have died long ago...cough, cough... but for the sake of the sect's survival, I forced myself to live until now. Were it not for the sect, I would have preferred to rest in peace."

He sighed, as if lamenting the fate that reality had forced upon him.

"Are you from that generation of the Seven-Three Sect?" Li Ju asked.

"The eighth generation leader of the Seven-Three Sect, Ling Yuan," the old man responded.

Ling Yuan, active four centuries ago, was the eighth leader of the Seven-Three Sect, a master of the minor trinity realm. He passed the mantle to the ninth leader three hundred fifty years ago, and supposedly died that same year.

Li Ju recalled the records about Ling Yuan.

But what had seemed reasonable now appeared false with Ling Yuan's presence.

"So, your sect has been spreading false information. A man who should have died three hundred fifty years ago has survived until now."

"Other than you, just how many of your sect's old masters are hidden away, still alive?"

Li Ju's lips curled into a sly smile.

Ling Yuan shook his head, refusing to answer.

"Young man, there's no need to ask. In this martial world, every great sect conceals its true strength. It's not only us—the Temple of Dharma and Mount Taibai...cough, cough... do the same."

"And tell me, the past leaders of your Demonic Sect, who retire after reaching their time—are they truly all dead?"

Ling Yuan shot back with a question of his own.

Li Ju had no answer.

But in his heart, he knew that the past leaders of the Demonic Sect must still be alive. Yet, as one who joined the sect midway, he knew little of its true secrets.

After all, judging by the divine Bat Soul weapon given to him by Zhuge Huang, it was clear the Demonic Sect saw him only as fodder for the divine weapons.

For such fodder, the sect would pamper him for a time, but would never grant him real power or status.

After all, who would treat a tool with genuine sincerity?