Chapter 976 The Sacred Deathmatch
“I have five more sworn brothers in the Brotherhood. When we first made our pledges together, I promised to include them all if I were to acknowledge anyone else as new sworn brothers. It slipped my mind just now. So, anyway, you’re the Seventh.”
The Sword Savant said all that as a matter-of-factly.
What else could Li Mu say?
“Isn’t this like something from that Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils story?!”
Nevertheless, to be able to forge some sort of bond with the Sword Savant, the first sword of the Brotherhood of Swords, would not hurt his prospects at all.
At any rate, everything that happened today has been awfully surrealistic.
“Well, that simplifies things,” the Grand Master of the Sanctuary broke his silence suddenly. “Since Li Mu’s name is still on the List of the Condemned, surely, as a brother to him, you can do something to help?”
“That must be those bastards from Thundercrest innit?” Hissed the Sword Savant. “Don’t worry about being on the List of the Condemned. That won’t hurt. I’ve been listed for some time myself. In fact, many who are listed are true heroes. For all we know, Seventh here might be enjoying having his name amongst such illustrious and remarkable like.”
Li Mu was so bewildered that he could barely speak.
“That’s not much of a consolation! What the hell are you talking about?!” Li Mu nearly cursed the face of his sworn brother.
“What is there to enjoy when my life is constantly on the line, being chased from hitherto thither like dogs?!
“All I want is just to grow stronger without the threat of death hanging over my head like a guillotine!”
“I’ll pull some strings. Things will settle down soon enough and those who harbor designs on you, Seventh, would be smart enough to back away and leave you in peace. As for those mongrels of Thundercrest, I’ll leave them to you, brother. This is your fight, not mine. A road that you’ll need to tread on your own feet if you wish to progress stronger. Such is the destiny we must unravel ourselves as warriors,” said the Sword Savant. “Only through trials and tribulations, you’ll learn, brother. If you have dreams to realize and ambitions to achieve, only through your own blood, sweat, and tears would this be possible.” The awfully eccentric Sword Savant was suddenly making sense.
“Thank you so much, brother.”
There was nothing else to say. The Sword Savant was right.
At the very least, the Sword Savant’s influence would ensure that Li Mu would have no one else to worry about other than the Sons of Lightning. That alone was a heavy burden off his aching back.
“So, what do you plan to do in the time being, Seventh?” Asked the Sword Savant. “You can come with me. Use the chance to get to meet the others and visit the Brotherhood.”
Li Mu glanced at the Grand Master of the Sanctuary.
“Li Mu’s staying here,” the Grand Master of the Sanctuary pointed out. “I’ve made arrangements. He will participate in the Sacred Deathmatch next year. I’ve lined up a strict regimen of training and testing. So quit meddling around, drunkard. The longer you dawdle, the more you’re wasting anyone’s precious time. You’re never a good teacher and giving him your Whitehair Swordsmanship is pretty much the sum of your usefulness at the moment, so go.”
“Wow, I hope that’s not your standard way of dealing with guests.” The Sword Savant scowled indignantly, “Anyway, this is the Elder’s Pass of the Brotherhood of Swords, Seventh. Keep it with you. With this Pass, the lower echelons of the Brotherhood shall be at your disposal. But if we were to encounter any more threats, this token shall be the proof of our bond. My name should at least be intimidating enough for most of the goons out there, especially idiots who might not recognize the sigil of the Brotherhood. I’ll be leaving now. It’s time I have some fun with this device of yours! Let’s see who can stand against me from now on!”
The Sword Savant would have left already if Li Mu had not remembered something important, “Wait, brother! I have something else to ask of you. Please.”
“Come now, Seventh. We’re brothers. If help’s what you need, it’s what I’ll gladly give.”
“I have a friend who had lost the fragments of her psyche and soul here in this world. As to where, I’m afraid I don’t know. So I’m still searching around in the dark. Here’s a painting of her. You head the Brotherhood of Swords, brother, with many acolytes in your command and you have numerous contacts everywhere. So, if you ever heard of her, please let me know.”
Li Mu handed a copy of the painting to the Sword Savant.
He had wanted to enlist the help of the Sanctuary of the Way, but knowing how powerful the Brotherhood of Swords is, Li Mu knew he had to try.
“Don’t worry about it, brother. I’ll send word if I hear anything, all right? I’ll be leaving then.”
And the Sword Savant was gone in a flash of light that streaked across the skies.
That was the Sword Savant, never one to drag his feet.
The Grand Master of the Sanctuary revealed a sly and impish grin like how any other mischievous old man would in the course of another prank, “Looks like the swordsmen of the Brotherhood and anyone else who would be facing him in a game of chess will be in for a nasty surprise.”
“Why is he so obsessed with chess, though…” Li Mu mumbled offhandedly.
The Sword Savant’s interest in chess seemed evidently clear that it was more than just a hobby.
The Grand Master cracked into a thin simper. “That’s a story for another time. Maybe he’ll tell you the tale himself one day. By the way, since you’re brothers with him, that places you in the same rank of seniority as me. Speak to me like we are equals.”
“Never, sir,” Li Mu hurriedly added. “My relationship with the Sword Savant is one thing, this is another. Even he said as much. Therefore I’d never dare to be rude.” One of Li Mu’s highest qualities was his manners toward seniors older than him.
The Grand Master did not want a debate on such triviality. “Anyway, meeting the Sword Savant is not the sole purpose of this audience,” he said, deciding on a change of subject. “There are things I want to talk to you about.
“Do go on.” Li Mu was ready.
“What do you know about the Sacred Deathmatch that will be held next year?” Asked the Grand Master of the Sanctuary.
“I’m afraid nothing, sir,” admitted Li Mu, shaking his head.
“Let’s start from the very beginning then.”
“The Battlefield of Chaos has almost a hundred races—big and small alike. How this dimension came to be, no one knows how. But we know at least this: our ancestors were fighting the Xenoses outside the Zi Wei Star Zone when a sudden anomaly ripped part of that reality apart. Somehow, that part of the universe got attached here and became a permanent part of this world.
“Both humans and Xenoses were viewed as invaders and the rest of the races rejected us as much as they rejected the Xenoses. To survive, we waged war against the other races. Carnage and bloodshed ensued and all around this world, the ground was slick red. But we triumphed. We fought and we survived, gaining enough foothold to create our home here. Today, Man has become one of the Ten Great Races and so were the Xenoses, who had just as many successes as us. They are also one of the Ten Great Races now, becoming equals with the Angels, the Beasts, the Mutants, and so forth.
“But the successes in all the years of Man’s rise of power in the Battlefield of Chaos did not come without a heavy price. Countless wars have been waged and ever more battles have broken out. Too many that few could remember them all anymore. Allies turned into enemies and enemies turned into friends. No one was ever beneath anything in their pursuit of survival and triumph in those days. To call it the darkest age of the Battlefield of Chaos would not be an overstatement at all for death pervaded every inch of this world like the very air we breathe. The scourge of war constantly lingered, and more hostilities sparked as easily as one lighting a match. Eventually, races began to pace towards ruin as some became leaderless when their chieftains were slain. That was the former Sacred Deathmatch of old: a brutal and bloody battle royale between all races on the Battlefield. If it were not for the fact that this dimension is the point where all worlds begin, the Battlefield of Chaos would have long ceased to exist because of the sheer abuse we’ve done to it.”
Li Mu was reminded of the World Wars that had ravaged Earth to a similar extent.
“Didn’t we almost do that to Earth already before?
“First, the atomic bomb, then the birth of other nuclear weapons that ushered in the Mutual Deterrence phenomenon all because everyone was threatening to blow each other to kingdom come?”
The many races that reside on the Battlefield mirrored the different nations on Earth in almost every way.
“So, what was the outcome of this Sacred Deathmatch?” Li Me articulated his curiosity.
“It became a war that did not end for thousands of years and as a result, we became a militaristic society with an emphasis on martial prowess. Humans begin to achieve breakthroughs in their limits and new champions from all races—a new breed of warriors with an understanding, ability to manipulate, and attunement to the natural order of this world as well as power—begin to emerge, growing stronger and more powerful than their forebears. That culminated in several individuals attaining Emperor-class superiority. Feeling that there has been too much violence and too much blood spilled, they joined their hands into suppressing the wars. They enacted laws, changing the Sacred Deathmatch into tournaments where representatives of various factions could duel against one another and vie for territory, spoils and supplies, and even position. This way, the loss of a few could prevent the deaths of the many.”
Li Mu more or less understood everything now.
“This sounds familiar…
“Yeah, like how generals of two opposing armies would fight in single combat in battle back in the days of the Three Kingdoms period. It’s shown so frequently in period TV dramas. The two armies just watch while the generals fight until one of them is defeated and killed, where the defeated army would turn around and flee with their tails between their feet while the winners would give chase for a killing and looting spree.”
To a limited extent that seems to be what the Sacred Deathmatch would be like, albeit bigger and bloodier.
Where the fight between armies and races had been turned into single-combat duels to the death where the winner takes all.
“The wars came to an abrupt end with the Emperor-class elites suing for peace. From every race and faction, the best of the best were chosen. These prodigies and champions would be put through the most trying and gruesome of gauntlets so as to make them stronger, harder, and more resilient. Those who triumphed in the tournament shall be conferred rewards and prestige that most could only salivate about. What vendetta and feud the races have for each other could be resolved in the ring. In other words, the once-every-century tournament is a chance for every race to gain ahead of others. For this reason, the Sacred Deathmatch not only determines a race’s prosperity, but also a species’s destiny. There can be no margin for error and the rules of the Deathmatch can be incredibly complex. ”
The Grand Master paused. “You are the wielder of Godbreaker.” He went on. “It’s your duty to be one of the participants who will be fighting for Man’s honor. That’s the reason I had Green Ox bring you here. Until the beginning of the tournament next year, you’ll stay here and undergo the best training we can give, until such time when you’re ready to go on a pilgrimage. Green Ox would come and help acquaint you with the rest of your fellow participants.”
“Wait. Hold up? The wielder of Godbreaker must join this tournament thing?!”
“So the laws dictate,” said the Grand Master. “But Godbreaker was lost to us thousands of years ago. It was said to have been stolen, making the tournament bland and uninteresting. But now that it’s returned, the laws need to be observed.”
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