Chapter 736 — The Pinnacle of Martial Arts
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
"The Overlord Body was not taught by you. You cannot teach it." Inside the room, the old farmer spoke as slowly as Old Ox, glancing at the woodcutter.
The woodcutter finished the medicine in his bowl, gave a satisfying belch, handed the empty bowl back to him, and said with a smile, "He is my disciple, so he was taught by me. You have no such outstanding disciple. You lack the ability, and you cannot teach it."
The old farmer snorted, took the empty bowl: "If you did not teach him, what are you so smug about? You are merely claiming credit for another's work yet again. This time I gave the Overlord Body face and spared you; otherwise, after a dozen years soaking in that stinking ditch, you would have rotted away until only your mouth remained."
The woodcutter said sternly, "The master opens the door; cultivation depends on the individual. I have students all over the world. And you — who taught you? And whom have you taught?"
The old farmer fell silent, dejected.
The woodcutter said calmly, "You are indeed number one in the martial Dao. Under all heaven, within the universe, even in the old Heavenly Court, none could be found to surpass you in martial arts. To be able to cross the void of the Spirit Bridge by the power of your personal martial Dao alone, despite lacking the Spirit Bridge realm, ascending to the Heavenly Palace with your martial Dao primordial spirit and cultivating into an unmatched Martial God — only you. Not to speak of twenty thousand years, even if you pushed back several hundred thousand, several million years, there would still be only you. You could succeed, but others cannot succeed as you did. You cannot save the people of the Dou Niu Realm."
The old farmer was silent.
The woodcutter continued, "But this time, the Jingping reforms can. The grudges between us are a small matter. I know these years have been hard for you — I know that after the great war you sought out these widows and orphans and cared for them, and that after the fall of Kaihuang you did much. You want to find a way for them to live. But you are also too foolish — for twenty thousand years you never found that way."
From the old farmer's throat came a roar like a trapped beast.
After the Kaihuang era fell, he had cared for the orphans left behind by his fallen comrades-in-arms, yet could only watch helplessly as they aged and died, one after another.
This was a torment beyond measure, filling his heart with guilt.
"Step out. Step out, and you are the Martial Sage."
The woodcutter looked at him, his gaze somewhat pitying, but more than that, expectant: "Kaihuang named us Heavenly Masters, but only I was named a Sage. Yet his original intent was that all four of us could become Sages. You are the Martial Arts Heavenly Master, first in martial power — beyond doubt. But a Sage is not martial power. Step out, and you are the one and only Martial Sage — Kaihuang's Martial Sage Heavenly Master!"
The old farmer was still silent.
The woodcutter did not press further.
He knew this old brother of his deeply. He knew he was stubborn, but not hopelessly so. In truth, it was only his mouth that was stubborn.
His words had already struck the mark. He would come around. He would become the one and only Martial Sage.
"I am moved by your words. The Jingping reform — I do indeed wish to go and see it."
The old farmer said suddenly, "But I will not help Jingping with anything. Our Kaihuang era started from nothing, built from scratch. Jingping — you have praised it so highly. Then without our help, it can also develop to Jingping's heights. Why should it depend on us failures?"
The woodcutter said with a smile, "We are only helping them buy time, so that they are not destroyed by the old Heavenly Court while still in their infancy. That much does not go against your intent, does it? Back in the early days of the Kaihuang era, certain remnants of the Shanghuang era also gave us no small amount of help."