Martial King's Retired Life

Broadsword wielders – needless to mention the sheep – across the lands headed to Mount Wanyu when Moyan Luohou announced his decision to sequester after one last match. What was supposed to be once in a lifetime opportunity ended up being sabotaged when they were held up, culminating in them missing out.

One night, Moyan Luohou soloed dozens of broadsword wielders of various sects beyond the border. Nobody managed to survive his first attack aimed at them in the challenge. He then retired to Mount Wanyu, never speaking to anyone else again. Until Feng Xue retired, Moyan Luohou’s retirement was considered the biggest waste of talent.

Moyan Changping never forgot his father telling him before they crossed the border, “Ping’er, bear with it. Now is not the time. Bear with whatever they ask you do to.” He didn’t understand what his father meant, but nodded, nonetheless, as he tearfully saw his father into the deep end of the mountain.

Moyan Changping only understood his father’s directive years after he began his employment under Great Spirit Shaman. Even though he was only a guardian, he was privy to what Shaman Monarch Palace did under Great Spirit Shaman’s rule. If he wasn’t told to put up with it, the first person Moyan Changping cut down would’ve been Great Spirit Shaman.

On a particular night five years ago, Moyan Changping wrestled his subordinates to the ground and punched his brother’s face in when they tried to stop him from approaching his father.

“Father, I have had enough. I am not afraid to kill, but my blade has its pride. I refuse to be his lackey!”

A blade might not be sentient; however, in Moyan Changping’s eyes, a blade shouldn’t be used for the wrong reasons. Every breath Great Spirit Shaman took was another insult at his blade.

“Wait,” was the first thing Moyan Luohou said to his son in ten years. “You still need to bear with it.”

“Until when?”

“… Until His Lordship Shaman Monarch’s advent.”

Moyan Changping never forgot his father’s answer due to the degree it affected him personally.

If Father has come out from seclusion… does that mean…?

“Brother Hong, if you are taking orders from someone, why not call them out?”

Since Moyan Changping saw his father as an unrivalled combatant, he concluded that whoever was behind Hong Jiu had to be the strongest enemy they’d ever faced. Else, his father wouldn’t have made an appearance.

Hong Jiu imperiously swept his grin over everyone looking at him as if to say, “When my brother shows up, y’all gonna be wishing you were women.” Next, he yelled, “Leader, come out!”

Hong Jiu’s voice echoed for kilometres, yet… there was no response. Hence, he stepped back and took the biggest breath he could: “Leader! Come out!”

Again, silence…

“Leader… C-come out! This is urgent!”

“Perchance,” breathing down Hong Jiu’s neck, Moyan Luohou finished, “I need to test world-renowned Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms. It’s not a bad way to start.”

Moyan Luohou gave Hong Jiu the same vibe as in the two matches Hong Jiu had against Luo Ming, including the time Luo Ming posed as Abels. That being said, although Moyan Luohou and Luo Ming were both Edge Realm practitioners, Luo Ming was better illustrated as a shiny sword infused with madness and hatred. In contrast, Moyan Luohou would be a dull sword, but you wouldn’t want to let it out of your sight.

Moyan Luohou, like his character, was straight forward. To put it bluntly, he, like his blade, only had one goal – defeat the enemy in front of them. Howbeit, his desire to win was rooted solely in his pursuit for improvement.

Moyan Luohou executed the same technique as his son’s last. Despite it appearing to be slower, he already slipped his hand past Hong Jiu’s guard to close in on the latter’s chest. Hong Jiu didn’t need to be tagged to recognise it would break his base if he couldn’t dodge it.

Hong Jiu: I’m not ashamed to say I lost to this man.

With only ten centimetres to go, Moyan Luohou’s blade bounced off a transparent qi wall, prompting him to stop. At the same time, the sparks and qi barricade whittled into thin air.

Everyone started scouring the surroundings high and low to search for Hong Jiu’s “Leader”, wondering where he’d emerge from. Alas, the only audible sounds were tweets.

Moyan Luohou held his last posture. Hong Jiu didn’t dare to budge in case Moyan Luohou attacked again.

“He’s here,” announced Moyan Changping.

A portly forty-odd year old man plummeted into the ground from the sky.

“Feiyi’s diplomatic envoy. Why are you here?”

The envoy, who scurried back, already met Moyan Changping on the way up the mountain.

Subsequently, Moyan Changping interrogated the envoy in Xiacang Anxi’s language, then uttered, “He claims our followers slaughtered his people and made off with the gifts he brought.”

Hong Jiu: “Heh.”

Before Moyan Changping could say another word, it started raining unconscious Shaman Monarch Palace followers, all of whom landed on solid ground without a sound. The infants in their arms wailed, startling the diplomatic envoy.

“Th-they are the royal family envoys we brought as gifts! Why are they here?! Hang on. Why do all of them have cuts?!”

Moyan Changping was aware why the infants were cut five to ten times each, and it riled him up as always.

They could only think of one person behind the series of uncanny events.

As the dark human silhouette descended from above, deafening shrills harassed the ear drums of those below. The only way to describe the grating sound in their head was to compare it to weapons smashing against each other right by their ears. The scenery warped. The ground trembled. Seemingly, streaks of lava seeped into rifts underfoot.

Moyan Changping never thought his visual prowess would one day be his downfall. His legs buckled, not because he was scared but due to an army of ants, rodents and green snakes taking his balance from him. As though some peril was encroaching on the forest, all of the birds soared to the dark sky, only for some abstract power to take their wings from them. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he saw everything he knew attacking each other while beast howls pummelled his head inside out. The man sitting in the chaos and blood gave the impression that he was relishing the anarchy he incited and devastation he wreaked. Great Spirit Shaman’s evil was tame in contrast to the man sitting there.

When Moyan Changping escaped the illusion, his lips were pale, hair was drenched and breathing was heavy. “He… He…” Moyan Changping dropped to his knees, blood spilling from his mouth. Even with his visual prowess, he couldn’t see the man’s appearance whatsoever; he couldn’t even determine if the man really existed. The only thing he could be sure of was the presence of a black throne.

“Leader!”

Moyan luohou, still holding his pose, was the only who could claim to see “anything”. “… Who are you? Why are you here?”

The man with flowing white hair pointed to the mountain peak. “Tell Great Spirit Shaman to come see me.” He grabbed his knee and slouched to the side as his weapon did. “Tell him: His Majesty has arrived.”