Martial King's Retired Life

Dust lapped the firmament subsequent to a “boom!” comparable to a cannonball’s impact on a city wall by the location closest to the entrance of Nieyao – courtesy of one python and one man.

While the jiao was closest to a dragon in characteristics, the white python was closest to its father in nature. Aside from the strongest capability to mutate animals in the wild and unmatched aggression, its speed made it an extremely dangerous threat. Upon birth, snakes would approach it in reverence and swear fealty to it. One hiss was all it took for an army to be at its beck and call. This inherent leadership quality was the reason behind the name Baidizi – White Emperor.

Despite Baidizi choosing to fight alone for now, the situation wasn’t remotely optimistic. Standing opposite Baidizi, Luo Ming, including the sword he dedicated ten years to forging, was lathered in dust from top to bottom.

“Father, y-”

Luo Ming held up a hand. “… Let me.”

The tears welled up in Luo Siming’s eyes kept his soul alive. He understood his father wasn’t aloof or blinded but too hurt too speak. That slushing blood that he had to swallow back down wasn’t easy to choke down.

Given Luo Ming’s prowess, unless he was trying to muscle his way to a victory, trading his life to take down his opponent, he shouldn’t have been hurt so bad; it shouldn’t have happened to any Divine Realm adept.

Luo Siming witnessed his father fight with caution thrown to the wayside the moment Baidizi showed up, resulting in every attempt missing, while Baidizi landed blow after blow. Even so, Luo Ming would get up and again, only to try the same strategy without any success. Divine Realm adepts could cast Enlightenment ceaselessly as long as they still had a trace of true qi, yet Luo Ming showed signs of physical failure after just four hours.

Feng Xue’s assessment of Ming Feizhen’s strategy was on the money. The reason eight hundred Qilin Guards, two hundred agents from Emperor’s Entourage, military officers of the imperial court and two thousand elites from Luo Sword Manor were stationed in Luo Ming’s area was purely because it would be the most perilous clash.

Feng Xue’s deeds illustrated his personality as an unrestrained man who’d tasted all the flavours of life. How often would Luoyang’s richest young master go to Nanjiang to start from the bottom as a slave for a woman? Even upon coming face to face with the culprit that took his wife and arm, he wasn’t blinded by his vengeance. Instead, he could see beyond revenge, consequently seeing the deeper layers. If it was easy to do, “blinded by revenge” wouldn’t be such a popular phrase.

On the other hand, Luo Ming’s strict upbringing developed his proud and aloof exterior, yet a friendly and passionate interior. Once his suppressed emotions gushed out, especially those for his wife and children, there was no room for doubt that his blood was warm.

Though Luo Ming was now longer blinded, his demons hadn’t left him. Until he could defeat his demons, they would continue to dwell inside, biding their time to devour him when he was vulnerable, just as Baidizi was.

Post-defeat at the hands of Ming Feizhen, Luo Ming’s mind was more unsettled than anyone. The calmness after madness was magnified restlessness. Once Luo Ming calmed down, he had to face his deeds, bear the consequences of his actions as well as contemplate how to salvage the damaged he had done.

During the pilgrimage to Nanjiang, Luo Ming concluded that his death was the only means of assuaging the imperial court. Expecting nobody in attendance of Refining Divine Convention to mention a word of it was delusional. By extension, Luo Sword Manor’s mutiny couldn’t just be swept under the rug. In the hypothetical world that the imperial court and three offices pretended it never happened, the martial arts community wouldn’t just put a lid on it. Sooner or later, they’d want payback. Luo Clan would be executed once word got out. All he could do was kill a calamitous beast as a means of achieving, “Died fighting to make up for his wrongs.” Emperor Yuansheng, being the man who showed mercy on old friends, would make a case for Luo Clan’s importance in equipping the military to spare Luo Sword Manor from execution. Thus, Luo Ming only one path for himself: death.

If Luo Ming had qualms about dying, he never would’ve done anything he did. In fact, he’d considered it daily for the last ten years. The difference between now and then was his mindset.

Feng Xue couldn’t cast aside his impulses, but Luo Ming couldn’t or even force himself to. Feng Xue had hope, but Luo Ming had none. Luo Ming was going to do whatever it took to slit his enemy’s throat, blast it to smithereens and throw it into the wind. He wasn’t going to stall his opponent or fight it. From the moment he drew his sword, he was dead set on killing it.

“Haha… Hahaha!”

Luo Ming’s sonorous laughter may have been interpreted as him losing his mind; however, his appearance said otherwise. His laughter was that of genuine amusement for he recalled what he learnt from Ming Feizhen the night prior to the invasion of Nieyao.