Severing Ties: The Sect Regrets My Departure

Chapter 226: Green Mountain Misty Rain, Red-Robed Ancestor

Green Mountain City.

Located a thousand li from the Azure Mystic Sacred Land, this city nestled in the southwestern foothills of the Heaven-Leveling Mountains was a jewel of the region. Famous for its clear waters, verdant peaks, and exquisite wines, it had historically been a pilgrimage site for literati and sages. It was also one of the few places where mortals and cultivators lived together in harmony.

Today, in front of the famous Misty Rain Tower, a figure clad in crimson robes stood motionless.

He did not enter the tower. Instead, he studied the stone tablets lining the entrance, his gaze lingering on a particular inscription.

“From now on, I shall laugh with the spring breeze, and live as an immortal of longevity in the mortal world.”

“Good poem. Truly a good poem,” the red-robed figure sighed with admiration. “Even through the stone, one can feel the free spirit and lofty ambition of the poet. It inspires reverence.”

A young attendant standing nearby smiled. “Esteemed guest, you may not know this, but that poem was left by the Azure Mystic Sword Immortal years ago for Peak Master Qin of Ink Scroll Peak. When he finished carving it, the Sword Immortal had an epiphany on the spot!”

“Since then, many immortals have come here to meditate on this tablet. Our Misty Rain Tower has quite a few such treasures.”

“Good, good. Very good!”

The red-robed figure smiled faintly, cast one last longing look at the tablet, and then turned to enter the tower.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the shopkeeper hurried forward to greet him, bowing low.

“Welcome, esteemed guest.”

As he led the way upstairs, the shopkeeper stole glances at this strange visitor.

The man had delicate features, red lips, and white teeth—a scholar’s beauty. However, his constitution seemed frail. He clutched a handkerchief, and after climbing only a few stairs, sweat beaded on his forehead, his face turning pale. He had to stop and rest on every landing.

Normally, such dawdling would annoy a busy shopkeeper. But today, the man dared not show even a hint of impatience.

First, because this guest spent money like water, booking the entire top floor with a casual toss of a thousand gold.

Second, and more importantly… behind the frail young master walked two silent figures.

They were built like iron pagodas, dressed in rough hemp with conical hats pulled low. They didn’t speak, but the aura radiating from them was enough to make the shopkeeper’s heart tremble.

“Immortal Elder, your guests have already arrived. If you need anything else, please summon this humble one.”

At the door to the ninth floor, the shopkeeper bowed and retreated.

“Thank you.”

The red-robed master smiled gently, his face still pale from exertion. He tossed a bag of Spirit Stones to the shopkeeper.

“Immortal Elder, this is…”

“If I recall, your best wine is called ‘Distant Mountain’?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Bring it up. My guests today are distinguished. Do not delay.”

“At once! At once!”

Moments later, the wine arrived. The red-robed figure smoothed his robes, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

Creak.

The moment the door opened, the atmosphere inside the room shifted.

Dozens of eyes locked onto him. Some were scrutinizing, some skeptical, and many burned with undisguised killing intent.

The red-robed master ignored the hostility. He walked in with a smile, sweeping his gaze over the assembly.

“I have kept you waiting. The ‘Distant Mountain’ wine of this city is famous. You must all taste it.”

Silence. No one moved. The tension was thick enough to cut.

Unbothered, the red-robed master signaled his guards to pour wine for everyone. He took a cup for himself and walked to the window, gazing out at the misty peaks.

“I once heard an ancient sage left a verse here,” he mused.

“The shimmering water is beautiful on a sunny day; the misty mountains are wonderful in the rain.”

“Truly… good mountains, good water, good poetry.”

“Enough!”

A rough voice shattered the poetic mood.

“Red-Robed Ancestor, cut the crap! You know why we are here. We came for the Grand Plan, not to watch you recite poetry and drink wine!”

The speaker was Jin Bingquan, Sect Leader of the Golden Blade Sect. A man known for his violent temper and powerful saber arts.

“Sect Leader Jin,” the Red-Robed Ancestor said, turning with a toast. “Formidable strength, straightforward nature. A true hero. Seeing you today, your reputation is well-deserved.”

Jin Bingquan didn’t touch his wine.

The Red-Robed Ancestor smiled and drank his own cup in one gulp. “Spicy at first, but the aftertaste is sweet and lingering. Like standing on a cloud-shrouded peak. Worthy of being the number one wine.”

“It deserves the title.”

This casual attitude annoyed the guests even more.

“Senior Red-Robed,” another voice spoke up, “Thank you for the hospitality. But for a man like me, whose heart is heavy, even the best wine tastes like water.”

The Red-Robed Ancestor turned. “Ah. I forgot. Sect Leader Chi Mingfei recently lost his master. My apologies. This wine is indeed ill-suited for mourning.”

Chi Mingfei, the new Sect Leader of the White Qilin Sect, lowered his eyes in grief.

“Red-Robed Ancestor,” a woman said sharply. “We have plotted with you for years for the upcoming ‘Cold Dew Day.’ Since you summoned us, you know what we want to hear.”

This was Leng Mingshu, Deputy Sect Leader of the Azure Wave Sect. Beside her sat Leng Mingyu, the Sect Leader who had recently recovered from severe soul damage.

Her words opened the floodgates.

“Exactly! The Demon Sect’s Leader is currently fighting a powerful enemy! We should seize this chance to attack, not sit here drinking!”

“This is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity! Who has time for scenery?”

“The Demon Sect stole another 10,000 acres of my spirit fields last week! If we don’t act now, my sect will be dead!”

These people were the Red-Robed Alliance. They represented nearly half of the sect forces surrounding the Heaven-Leveling Mountains. They had gathered here for one purpose: to destroy Azure Mystic.

Facing their impatience, the Red-Robed Ancestor sighed.

“I invited you here to tell you one thing: Have patience. Do not let false opportunities blind you.”

“What?” The crowd frowned.

“What is the strength of everyone here?” the Red-Robed Ancestor asked calmly. “Compared to the Demon Sect… what are we?”

Silence fell.

Individually, they were strong. Combined, they were a formidable army. But compared to the Azure Mystic Sacred Land?

They were clay chickens and pottery dogs.

“But the Demon Sect Leader is fighting a Demon Emperor!” someone argued. “Even if we are weak, we can take a bite out of them while they are distracted!”

“Take a bite?” The Red-Robed Ancestor shook his head. “What is a bite? Reclaiming your resources?”

Silence.

“Killing a few worthless disciples?”

Silence.

“Or perhaps… killing a few Peak Masters?”

Some eyes lit up, but the Red-Robed Ancestor shook his head again.

“Azure Mystic has been a Sacred Land for only a few years. They have no foundation. Yet they sit securely on the throne. Have you never wondered why?”

“Because,” he answered his own question, “for a sect with no foundation, the core is the Supreme alone. Where the Supreme is, the Demon Sect is.”

“As for the Peak Masters…”

“Haven’t you learned from the intelligence we’ve gathered? For the Demon Sect Leader… everyone is expendable.”

The room went deathly quiet.

It was true. Guan Xuelan was cold-blooded. She had abandoned the Sword Immortal Gu Xiu. Why wouldn’t she sacrifice the others?

If they attacked now and failed to kill the Supreme, her retaliation would wipe them all out.

“You said the opportunity is false,” Leng Mingshu said, her brow furrowed. “Do you mean the battle between the Supreme and the Demon Emperor is fake?”

“It is real,” the Red-Robed Ancestor replied. “But the opportunity is fake.”

“How? Are you saying even a Demon Emperor can’t beat that witch?” Chi Mingfei asked, his eyelids twitching.

“It is… unlikely.”

A chill ran through the room.

“Impossible! A Demon Emperor is equal to a Human Supreme! They should at least be evenly matched!”

“Guan Xuelan ascended recently! She has no accumulations! How can she be that strong?”

“I don’t believe it!”

They shouted in denial, desperate to cling to their hope.

The Red-Robed Ancestor watched them with pity. He understood their hate. But hate without power was suicide.

“Gentlemen. We have waited for years. A few more days will not kill us. I ask you to wait. Be patient.”

“Wait for what?!” someone roared. “Unless you have another trump card, waiting is just slow death!”

The Red-Robed Ancestor didn’t answer immediately. He turned back to the window, gazing at the distant mountains.

Thwack!

A spirit arrow shot through the open window, embedding itself in the sill next to him.

Seeing the arrow, a smile finally returned to his face.

“You asked what I am waiting for. Now I can tell you.”

“I am waiting to see… if that person will step out during this battle.”

That person?

The crowd was confused.

But a moment later, a new message arrived via transmission talisman, answering their questions and shocking the room into silence.

“Urgent Report!”

“The Ninth Prince of the Golden Feather Divine Dynasty is leading the Royal Army!”

“They are besieging Cloud Firmament City!”