Gods of Destruction

Chapter 13 The Mysterious Old Man

The night finally faded, and as the first rays of morning sunlight touched the small town, the once quiet town began to stir with activity.When someone passed by the city wall, they noticed Kamal's head nailed to it, and in shock, let out a cry."The lord has been killed!"The news of Kamal's death, his head displayed on the city wall, spread quickly throughout the town, one person telling another, and soon everyone knew.However, after a brief moment of surprise, the townspeople showed little reaction. They each returned to their own tasks, as if Kamal's sudden death was no more significant than dropping a pair of chopsticks during a meal—slightly surprising, but nothing more than a minor inconvenience easily resolved. It had no real impact on their lives.To the townspeople, Kamal's sudden death simply meant that he could no longer exploit them, but soon another lord would take his place. This new lord would be no different from Kamal, so their lives would remain unchanged.Meanwhile, Abbas, Nasser Reza, Hina, and Shirin had already left the small town. Abbas decided they should head to a larger city to gather information about the religion, as it was more likely they could find useful leads there. So, the four of them set off toward a bigger city.After walking for several hours, Shirin began to feel fatigued. Unlike Abbas and Nasser Reza, who had trained in martial arts and possessed far greater physical endurance, and unlike Hina, whose ice magic also provided some benefits to her physical condition, Shirin was just an ordinary girl. A sleepless night combined with hours of walking left her exhausted.However, Shirin was stubborn and didn't voice her need for rest. It was Nasser Reza who noticed her exhaustion and suggested they take a break."I'm fine, I can keep going," Shirin gritted her teeth, sweat streaming down her cheeks, but she insisted on continuing."We can keep going, but we could use a rest too," Nasser Reza said with a smile. Without waiting for Shirin to protest, he found a shady spot under a tree and took out some water and food.A hint of gratitude flashed in Shirin's eyes. Although Nasser Reza phrased it as though they all needed a rest, she knew in her heart that he suggested it for her sake. The thought warmed her heart.As the four of them rested in the shade, they suddenly heard a song, distant at first but growing closer. The song seemed to come from the heavens, ethereal and fleeting, yet it reached their ears with striking clarity.This evening, what evening is it?I wander alone in the world.Today, what day is it?To share joy with the mountains and rivers.Draped in serenity,Unhearing of the mundane world.My heart is so joyful it never ends,Transcending all.For where there is cause, there is effect; where there is rise, there is fall.Fate guides, yet you remain unaware.Just as the four were puzzled by the mysterious song in the wilderness, they saw an elderly man in a green robe approaching. His steps appeared slow, yet his speed was surprisingly swift. Though his clothes were somewhat tattered, he exuded an air of otherworldly grace, like an immortal unbound by the mundane world."I am parched from my journey. Might I trouble you for a drink?" the elder asked calmly, looking at the four of them."Of course, please help yourself, elder," Abbas replied, handing over a water pouch. Though they had never met this elder before, Abbas could tell that he was undoubtedly a person of great wisdom and skill. With his experience, the elder might be able to offer some assistance to the group.After taking a drink, the elder stroked his beard, appearing quite satisfied, and softly asked, "May I ask where you four young travelers are heading in this desolate wilderness?""We are looking for a religion to practice martial arts. I wonder if you, elder, might be able to help us," Abbas said."And why do you wish to practice martial arts?" the elder asked.Abbas paused before answering, "For a dream.""And what dream might that be?""To become the god of this world.""Oh?" The elder's calm expression finally showed a hint of change, with a trace of surprise. "To become a god?""Yes, to become a god who makes this world tremble before me. That way, I can stop the wars of this world and eradicate its evil," Abbas replied.The elder was visibly taken aback by Abbas's words, likely not expecting such a grand ambition from a young man he happened upon by chance—an ambition that even the strongest of warriors or sorcerers would hesitate to dream of."A fine dream. I, in my old age, feel ashamed in comparison," the elder praised. Then, his gaze darkened slightly as he looked at Shirin. "If I'm not mistaken, aside from this young lady, the rest of you have practiced martial arts or sorcery, haven't you?"Abbas, Nasser Reza, and Hina nodded in acknowledgment. Abbas was about to speak, but the elder raised his hand to stop him. "Don't speak. Let me see if I can guess," the elder said.The old man then turned his gaze to Nasser Reza, his eyes calm yet slightly profound, and said, "If I am not mistaken, although this young man seems to have an ordinary build, his muscles are solid and his arms are powerful. This suggests that he practices a martial art focused on strength."Nasser Reza nodded, confirming that the old man's observation was accurate. His martial art, the Bull's Might, indeed emphasizes strength.The old man then looked at Hina: "This young lady practices ice magic. Even though you make a great effort to hide the cold aura from leaking out, I can still sense a hint of it."The old man seemed to ponder for a moment, then continued, "In the path of cultivation, there are two main approaches: martial arts and magic. As for martial arts, it involves techniques such as condensing qi, opening meridians, mastering the Five Elements, harmonizing Yin and Yang, and creating Chaos. However, most martial artists, nine out of ten, stop at the stage of opening meridians. Few can master the Five Elements, and those who can harmonize Yin and Yang are extremely rare. As for creating Chaos, in my hundred years of life, I have yet to hear of anyone achieving that. In summary, the path of martial arts is primarily about condensing qi. The denser the qi, the stronger the power. As for the path of magic, it involves refining spiritual power, using this power to drive one's own magical abilities, and drawing upon the power of heaven and earth. The stronger the spirit, the more powerful the magic."The old man then gave Hina a meaningful glance and said, "In my opinion, the young lady's spiritual power is still insufficiently strong, and her will is not resilient enough to control the cold aura she has cultivated. That is why the cold aura is leaking out.""Not resilient enough?"Not only Hina but also Abbas and Nasser Reza were slightly taken aback. Despite the severe injuries Hina sustained during the war—her legs badly wounded and flesh mangled—she had not uttered a single sound of pain. Abbas and Nasser Reza believed they would have been unable to endure such pain, yet Hina had managed to do so.Last night, Abbas and Nasser Reza were incapacitated by poison in their wine, and Kamal revealed his true nature. While Abbas and Nasser Reza were in a state of extreme anxiety, Hina was still able to remain calm.This showed that Hina's willpower was so resilient that even Abbas and Nasser Reza had to admit they were inferior in comparison.However, the old man claimed that Hina's spiritual power was not strong enough and her willpower was not resilient enough. This left the three of them astonished.Noticing the unusual expressions in the eyes of the three, the old man seemed to have anticipated their reaction. His demeanor suddenly changed; the previously indifferent and detached aura was replaced by an imposing dominance, exuding a commanding presence as if he ruled over mountains and rivers."Willpower is the general, and spiritual power is the troops. If the general is strong, the troops are strong; if the general is weak, the troops are weak. A capable general will always have strong troops. To lead spiritual power with your will, the strength of your will determines the strength of your spiritual power. The cold energy you have cultivated within your body is like the weapons in the hands of soldiers. To master a craft, one must first sharpen their tools. I believe this principle doesn't need further explanation."After the old man spoke, both Abbas and Hina fell into deep thought, realizing the meaning behind his words. Meanwhile, Nasser Reza remained unaffected, as he had little interest in spiritual power or mystical arts.On the other hand, Shirin listened with great interest.After a long while, Abbas and Hina emerged from their contemplation and looked at the old man, their eyes showing a hint of gratitude. Nasser Reza noticed a subtle change in them, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.The old man turned to Abbas and said in a serious tone, "As for you, practicing both martial and mystical arts, you are indeed much stronger at the start compared to other practitioners, gaining a significant advantage when the opponent is caught off guard. However, the saying 'specialization leads to excellence' applies here—mastery of both martial and mystical arts is extraordinarily difficult, with no one achieving it fully in the past thousand years. But this does not mean that practicing both cannot lead to the pinnacle of cultivation; it is just exceedingly arduous. If successful, the power you achieve will surpass that of any practitioner of the same level. The choice is yours."Abbas's expression grew serious. After a moment of contemplation, he suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with determination, having made his decision. Although Abbas did not speak, Nasser Reza and Hina understood that he had chosen to continue with both martial and mystical arts.Seeing Abbas's decision, a hint of appreciation flashed in the old man's eyes. He then took out a palm-sized square token of unknown material from his robe and said with a smile, "Today, meeting you four friends and having a pleasant drink has made me very happy. I don't have much to offer, but this token is all I can give. Take it with you and travel west for over a hundred miles. There is a mountain called Tur Mountain, and within it, there is a sect named the Netherworld Sect. If you have no better place to go, you can present this token to the head of the Netherworld Sect. They will take you in.""Thank you, senior," Abbas, Nasser Reza, Hina, and Shirin said in unison. They were sincerely grateful to the old man. Despite being strangers, he had offered them such significant help with just some water, and his earlier words had been immensely enlightening.The old man stroked his beard and resumed his previous demeanor—immaterial and detached. Without further farewell, he left, his steps seemingly slow but surprisingly swift.The old man began to recite a poem:In a mountain village beyond the world,Green hills and clear waters bring joy.Yet born in a world of chaos,Armors of war bring only slaughter.As thunder and rain approach, no one escapes,Dark clouds roll, the youth survives.Surveying the village, the corpses are cold,Looking around, blood flows like a river.In the storm, the youth's tears fall,Heartbroken, heaven and earth mourn.Burying parents and vowing revenge,Determined, he ventures into the depths of Mount Mand.The thorny mountain path cannot block him,Fierce beasts and birds do not scare his heart.Through wind and rain, his resolve remains,Occasionally encountering snow waves in the mountain stream.A green giant python suddenly appears,The water screen reveals a hidden realm.Emerald moss piles up, bright pearls hanging,Light sways, misty clouds full of wonders.The towering pillar is unreachable,Ambition soars high, poetry and prose.Encompassing all life with benevolence,Sealing evil to bring forth goodness.Golden elixirs suddenly enter his belly,Withdrawing the blood sword, who speaks?Forcefully slaying the giant python with the blood sword,The mountain turns, crossing the wilderness.Storms change abruptly, pouring rain,Raindrops suddenly stop, the girl Hina.The young man's muddled experiences,The shy girl's tender emotions.War rages, the people suffer,Three companions travel together.Stealing to survive brings a little joy,But on the way back, the war's waves hit.The candlelight dims in Abbas's dream,Eradicating the world's source of evil.On the battlefield searching for techniques,Corpses and souls cry out everywhere.Alone in an unnamed cave, he cultivates,Who knew his talent would astonish?To fulfill the dream in his heart,Drifting through the world, seeking a sect.Encountering injustice in a small town,Drawing his sword to save Shirin.At the night banquet, poisoned by treachery,Ice flowers wither, danger turns.Bloody sword shadows dance heavily,Slaughter ends, the sword is sheathed.To ask where heaven has gone,The old man points to the Netherworld Sect.The Netherworld does not bind the youth's will,In the Jianghu, fate is often misaligned.When strength is at its peak, it is easy to break,Remember this well.After finishing the poem, the old man's figure vanished from their sight.Abbas, Hina, and Shirin were deeply immersed in reflecting on the lengthy poem, each interpreting it with their own thoughts. However, Nasser Reza was overwhelmed by a shock that defied description.The poem seemed to narrate his own experiences from beginning to end. The final line of the poem, which spoke of "extreme hardness being prone to break," resonated strongly with Abbas and Nasser Reza, reflecting their own inner conflict and aspirations. Both of them were indeed focused on grand ambitions beyond the Netherworld Sect, aiming for something greater in the world.Yet, Nasser Reza was puzzled by the meaning of "extreme hardness being prone to break." He wondered whether this line referred to Abbas, himself, or even Hina and Shirin. The old man's ability to trace the past and foresee the future left them all in awe and confusion, questioning the depth and nature of his knowledge and intentions.