Chapter 33 Chapter 33 The young man was stared at by the sword wielder...
The young man was shocked by the sadness in the sword-bearing man's brows. He was stunned for a moment, slowly came to his senses, and was reluctant to continue asking.
But he was pushed and urged by the elder next to him. He trembled and had to slowly ask the sword holder: "Could it be the reincarnation of that evildoer?"
If it was the sword holder from before, he would definitely get angry immediately and strike them with the sword. Even if they didn't die, they would be seriously injured, or at least suffer pain for a while and learn a lesson.
But the sword holder just nodded slowly, opened his misty eyes, his eye sockets were red, his face was stiff, and he said coldly: "It's him."
The swordsman paused for a moment, as if in great pain. His brows were furrowed, his face even paler than before, and he looked as if he had just crawled out of the snow. He then spoke slowly, word by word, "I will not be a human being until I avenge this vengeance."
Obviously, for him, physical pain is nothing, the mental blow is the most difficult part to accept.
Otherwise, he wouldn't come here.
The young man immediately believed him and frowned along with him. He felt quite sorry for his plight and said to the elder beside him: "We originally wanted to invite the Sword Immortal to join us. Now that he has come in person, we have accepted him. Should we invite him to stay? We can discuss other matters later!"
He said that other matters would be discussed later, and his original intention was not to put too much pressure on the Sword Holder and to consider the Sword Holder's considerations.
But the sword bearer frowned, lowered his eyes, and said firmly: "I will not go back to that place before. If you don't let me stay here, then I will go somewhere else. After all, the world is so big, there is always a place for me to go."
When he said this, his expression was sad, yet he had a firmness and persistence that could not be refused, and everyone was shocked.
They exchanged glances and immediately confirmed the result. Whitebeard, as the representative of the crowd, stepped forward, smiled, and said to the swordsman: "Welcome to join!"
The swordsman nodded. The wound on his body was still bleeding. The blood on the blade was almost coagulated. He said expressionlessly, "Please give me your guidance in the future."
Whitebeard couldn't help but smile. He felt that Penglai had gained a great helper, which was really a good thing. He was very happy and waved his hands repeatedly: "I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it! In fact, it should be me who should give advice to the Sword Immortal!"
The swordsman was too impatient to exchange pleasantries with him, so he took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and said sullenly, “Listen carefully, I have requirements for joining.
I want to be the leader of the Penglai Immortal Sect, and unite all the immortal disciples around me, so that they will obey my orders and work for me.
If you can't do it or don't want to, you can reject me now, I still have time to find another place."
Everyone was stunned; they had not expected him to speak so loudly. They looked at each other, speechless for a moment. The scene was eerily silent.
After a long while, Whitebeard said slowly, "Please forgive my disrespect. This matter is of great importance and I cannot make the decision alone. I am afraid I need to go back and hold a meeting to decide. What do you think?"
"Go ahead." The swordsman said nonchalantly.
Although he was very sad, he seemed as arrogant as before, and it was not easy to get rid of him, let alone fool him.
But now the impression that people in Penglai have of him is only that he is a martial arts expert, and at most he likes to be a loner. They don't think he has any ability to lead anyone, and in fact, they don't take him seriously.
The reason they held the meeting was just to discuss whether or not to give him this title.
Whitebeard immediately led everyone back to the open space to hold a meeting.
"Meetings, meetings, and more meetings. We've already had several meetings in the past few days. How many more meetings do we have to have? How can there be so many things to discuss every day? How can it be so important?"
"This time it's different! The Sword Master is willing to join us, but he wants our position as the leader of our clan, and even wants us to support him in uniting with other immortal disciples!"
"This is a good thing! Is there anyone who disagrees? He takes the lead, he takes responsibility, he does the hard work, and we just need to cheer behind him. Is there anything better than this?"
"He's very capable, and it's great that he's willing to work for us. It's not too much to ask for him to be a leader. If he does what he wants to do and there's an accident, and others blame us, we can also say that he acted on his own will."
After some discussion, they quickly got the result. The old man with white beard appeared in front of the Swordsman again with his men. This time there were more people and they were obviously prepared.
They were wearing exactly the same clothes, lined up in a neat formation, with similar expressions of excitement yet forced calm on their faces.
The older people, such as the white-bearded old man, stood in front as representatives and saluted the sword bearer loudly, saying, "Penglai disciple, greets the sect master!"
One shout became louder than the other, and then all of them knelt in front of the sword bearer. It was a more solemn and serious etiquette, proving that they were not joking.
The sword bearer wanted to laugh in front of them, but felt it was inappropriate to laugh now. He pressed his wound hard and said seriously, "Everyone, please stand up!"
He felt that he should say some polite words now, but firstly, he was really not good at it, and secondly, he had no interest in serious leadership. It was just that the situation forced him to do so. After thinking about it, it would be better to say less.
So, he had said what he needed to say, and there was nothing more to say.
Fortunately, everyone didn't have high expectations of him, and was not surprised or disappointed. They just listened to him, saluted, and stood up from the ground.
"You are still injured, and they are making a lot of noise, making it inconvenient for you to recover. Should I ask them to disperse?" White Beard asked tentatively.
"Let's disperse." The swordsman nodded.
After losing so much blood, he should be feeling dizzy by now.
After the crowd dispersed, the young man asked the sword bearer with concern: "Have you treated your wound? We have a doctor here. If you haven't treated it, why not get it treated here?"
The swordsman nodded, expressionless: "Thank you!"
The young man was very happy, as if he had received honey. He smiled and said, "You're welcome! You are now our sect leader, so you naturally have the right to use everything in the sect. I am just mentioning it to you."
He paused, then asked tentatively: "Then I'll take you there?"
The swordsman glanced at Whitebeard, who stroked his beard, nodded slowly, and said with a smile: "Your injuries should be checked out. Let him take you there. He knows the way."
The swordsman nodded, speaking very concisely, with no expression on his face. Now he was as pale as a piece of paper, the kind of paper that was soaked in sea water and then dried by the sun, fragile, lonely, and unique: "Okay then."
The young man looked at his face in a trance, feeling that he was bewitched by lust, and quickly shook his head, then came to his senses, nodded respectfully, smiled politely and said, "Please follow me."
The young man brought the sword bearer to the doctor.
The swordsman's injury was not serious. He was just stabbed by the sword and some blood was shed. With the ability of the Penglai Sect, it would be easy to heal this kind of injury.
But the doctor looked at it and said, "In fact, depression in the heart cannot be cured by medicine. Even if it is cured, the depression is still there and will relapse. It is best for you to think more positively."
The swordsman didn't take it seriously and nodded casually.
The young man actually listened to it, frowned slightly, and felt a little confused. After hesitating for a while, he couldn't help but be curious and asked the swordsman carefully: "I haven't asked about your injury yet, what happened?"
The sword bearer didn't want to say more to him: "It was that man who did it, what else could it be?"
Speaking of this, the Sword Bearer's tone became low, as if he suddenly fell into the sea, sinking down, and no one could pull him up. No one could pull him up, and they could only watch him sink, little by little, into the darkness, until they could see nothing at last.
When the young man heard his tone, his heart ached and he couldn't help thinking: Even someone like me who has only known Lord Sword Immortal for a day or two would feel sad to see Lord Sword Immortal so heartbroken.
Where is the man who stabbed the sword into the Sword Immortal's body now? How does he feel? How could he bear to attack such a person?
How could he really do that? Is he so cruel?
Just looking at his face, he seemed like a good person, gentle and polite. I was almost fooled. I couldn't tell at all that he could be so cruel to someone close to him and then not care about anything.
It really is true that you can’t judge a book by its cover.
The young man hesitated, but couldn't resist his curiosity and asked again, "He looks weak and frail, how could he hurt you to such an extent?"
The swordsman glanced at him and found that he really wanted to know. After a slight hesitation, he thought, if he didn't tell it now, someone might ask him about it in the future. It would be better to tell it now and have peace and quiet in the future.
The sword bearer told him, "I was resting with him in the house, and he said he wanted to see my sword. I unsheathed the sword and gave it to him. He took it and looked at it, and said it was very beautiful and wanted to try it.
I was not prepared.”
The sword bearer closed his eyes and paused for a moment, as if he was recalling something or feeling heartbroken, before slowly opening his eyes and continuing, “He stabbed me with his sword and blamed me for letting him be captured by the demon, rebuking me for pretending to want to protect him but actually only wanting him to die, or else the demon would have captured him right in front of me and it was my incompetence.
He blamed me for being extremely useless, and I had nothing to say.
He also said that he had recovered his memories of his past life and wanted to part ways with me, asking me to get out of his sight as soon as possible and find someone who was willing to go along with me, and not to see him again.
When he said this, the sword holder frowned, his eyes were red and tears were in his eyes, but the tears were hanging in his eyes. He clenched his teeth, obviously trying his best to endure the unimaginable pain.
The young man was stunned for a moment, then quickly apologized: "I'm sorry! I won't ask again! Don't cry!"
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