Chapter 526 Meeting an Old Friend Again
The atmosphere inside the Wulin Alliance's council hall was solemn and dignified.
The elders of the nine sects and one faction stood on both sides, all of them figures in the martial arts world whose every move could cause a stir.
However, at this moment, these usually dignified masters all wore expressions of respect and anticipation.
In the main seat, Alliance Leader Situ Dengfeng, dressed in formal alliance leader robes, had a composed expression, but a hint of satisfaction could not be hidden deep in his eyes.
He surveyed the crowd and announced loudly, "I have gathered you all here today for one purpose—to welcome back the hero of our righteous martial arts world, the 'Sword God' Shen Mo, to the Central Plains!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of heartfelt praise and applause filled the hall. Everyone stood up, their eyes all turning towards the hall entrance.
When Shen Mo's familiar dark figure appeared at the door, the atmosphere in the entire hall froze.
He walked with composure and calmness, yet possessed an air of profound and dignified composure. Although young, he inspired awe in all the seasoned martial arts veterans present.
Situ Dengfeng briefly introduced Shen Mo's whereabouts over the past two years, only saying that "he went overseas."
He made no mention of his earth-shattering deeds in the far west.
This was not a deliberate attempt to conceal the truth, but rather a deep understanding that the matter involved far-reaching implications and was not suitable for public disclosure at this time.
Shen Mo's gaze swept over everyone in the hall, but a slight thought stirred within him.
He discovered that the seat that originally belonged to the Diancang Sect was occupied by another face: an elder from the Kongtong Sect.
The elder had white hair and beard, and an arrogant expression, clearly regarding himself as a rising star among the nine factions.
Shen Mo's memory was instantly pulled back to that blood-red dusk—the Diancang Sect was wiped out by evil cultivators from overseas.
Although the dozen or so surviving Diancang disciples rebuilt the sect on the ruins after the overseas evil cultivators fled, it was severely weakened and lost all its foundation, and was no longer able to stand alongside the other eight major sects.
The world of martial arts is ultimately cruel; it only recognizes strength and results.
The decline of a sect often happens in the blink of an eye, so fast that there is no time to sigh.
A faint sense of sorrow welled up in Shen Mo's heart, but he also understood that this was the law of the martial world.
The welcoming ceremony was brief yet solemn.
Elders from various factions stepped forward, their words filled with praise.
Shen Mo responded politely and respectfully, yet maintained a sense of distance. He knew that behind this enthusiasm lay more reverence for his status as the "Sword God" than affection for him personally.
That evening, the afterglow of the setting sun bathed the Martial Alliance in a warm golden light.
Just as Shen Mo saw off the last group of fellow martial arts practitioners who came to visit, a servant came to report: Guigu Shuchi (Ghost Valley Bookworm) requests an audience.
A hint of joy flashed in Shen Mo's eyes, and he quickly went out to greet them personally.
Before long, Shu Wangxing, dressed in a blue robe, walked in looking travel-worn.
His face was filled with the joy of a long-awaited reunion, but there was a hint of seriousness hidden between his brows.
"Brother Shen!" Upon seeing Shen Mo, Shu Wangxing immediately strode forward, patted him heavily on the shoulder, looked him up and down, and laughed, "Two years have passed, and you're even more charming than before! It seems that your two-year absence has not only failed to smooth out your rough edges, but has instead polished this rough gem of yours to make it shine even brighter!"
The two exchanged a smile, everything understood without a word.
After exchanging pleasantries, Shu Wangxing's smile gradually faded. He lowered his voice and his expression became unusually serious: "Brother Shen, besides wanting to see you after learning of your return, I have an extremely urgent matter to tell you and the Valley Master about."
He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before continuing, "The imperial court... is making unusual moves. The new emperor, Zhao Yan, has appeared inactive since his ascension, but in reality, he has been secretly plotting, and his target is the Martial Alliance!"
Upon hearing this, Shen Mo frowned slightly. The imperial court and the martial arts world had always kept to themselves, but he hadn't expected the new emperor to try to break this balance after his ascension to the throne.
"Zhao Yan appears benevolent on the surface, but he is extremely wary of the martial arts world." Shu Wangxing's voice was even lower, almost a whisper. "He is worried that the Martial Alliance will become a state within a state, threatening the country and the nation."
After listening, Shen Mo frowned slightly. His deep, abyss-like eyes reflected the dim yellow lanterns under the corridor, but there was no warmth in them.
He remained silent for a moment, as if weighing the immense weight of the news.
The new emperor, Zhao Yan, this young ruler, has already shifted his focus from external threats to internal troubles. The Martial Alliance, which once shielded his country from monstrous waves, has now become a thorn in his side that he must remove.
"Brother Shu," Shen Mo's voice was low and solemn, breaking the suffocating silence, "This is a matter of great importance to the nation and the entire martial world. I won't keep you any longer. Go and report to Senior Guiguzi."
Upon hearing this, Shu Wangxing was slightly taken aback at first, then a hint of approval flashed in his eyes.
He had thought that Shen Mo would discuss countermeasures with him first, but he did not expect that the first thing Shen Mo thought of was to pass on the information to that legendary figure in the martial arts world who was good at planning.
His composure and strategic vision impressed him, and he thought to himself that he truly deserved to be called the "Sword God" who could single-handedly force back the God Emperor.
He nodded solemnly, cupped his hands and said, "Brother Shen is absolutely right, then I will not disturb you any longer."
He turned to leave, but then stopped and looked back at Shen Mo.
The joy of their long-awaited reunion had not yet completely faded from his face, but now it was tinged with a sincere sense of apology and anticipation.
"Once this matter is settled and the storm has passed," Shu Wangxing's voice was extremely soft, carrying a unique blend of boldness and tenderness characteristic of江湖儿女 (jianghu children, people of the martial world), "we must find a quiet tavern and have a good drink together. We won't talk about national affairs, or the martial world, we'll just drink the strongest liquor and talk about the most trivial things."
Looking at his elder brother, who was both a teacher and a friend, Shen Mo felt a warmth in his heart, and a faint smile finally appeared on his lips. "Alright, it's a deal." He returned the greeting with a fist salute, watching the figure in blue disappear into the night, like a drop of ink falling into water, quickly dissipating, leaving only the cold moonlight filling the courtyard and a heavy sense of responsibility.
Inside Guiguzi's study, the flickering candlelight illuminated his silvery-white beard and hair, making them appear like flowing moonlight.
He was writing rapidly on a blank sheet of paper, organizing Shen Mo's oral account of his experiences in the far west. His pen strokes were vigorous, and each word was like a knife.
When Shu Wangxing revealed the new emperor Zhao Yan's plot, Guiguzi's wolf-hair brush suddenly stopped, and a drop of thick ink fell onto the paper, quickly spreading like an ominous dark cloud.
"...Integrate all martial arts techniques in the world to create the 'Emperor's Guard'?" Guiguzi slowly put down his pen, and for the first time, his usually calm eyes were filled with turbulent waves.
His thin fingers unconsciously rubbed the paperweight on the table, his knuckles turning white from the force.
He knew all too well what this meant.
This was not merely a test of the imperial power against the martial arts world, but a meticulously planned war aimed at completely erasing its independence.
Once the imperial court gathers all the martial arts in the world and creates an "Emperor's Guard" that is loyal only to the emperor, then the "brotherhood" and "sect heritage" that the martial arts alliance is so proud of will be as fragile as thin ice in the face of absolute, systematic power.