Martial Cultivator

The line of passes centered around Pine Pavilion Pass was, to the entire Northern Frontier, much like the eldest son who had shouldered the family's burdens from an early age. Above him were aging parents, behind him younger siblings not yet grown. Though he gave the most for the family, he still had to bear the greatest grievances.

This time, the demon army's southward advance was undoubtedly the quietest one in decades. The scouts sent out by the two foremost passes discovered that thirty thousand demon cavalry were lying in ambush around Cloud Gorge. After receiving the report, the commanders of the two passes deliberated only briefly before reaching the same conclusion - these thirty thousand cavalry were the demons' reserve force. Later, the demons would certainly feign defeat and lure them into Cloud Gorge to wipe them out in one stroke.

Holding this belief, the two commanders quickly came up with another idea. If they struck first and directly surrounded and annihilated those thirty thousand cavalry, then the demons' supposed plan of luring them out of the passes would become a complete joke.

Thus, in their eyes, those thirty thousand cavalry were nothing less than an enormous opportunity. As long as they seized it, with that military merit in hand, climbing the ranks of the frontier army would become effortless.

It could be said that the two commanders had been blinded by the promise of military merit. So after the frontier troops of the two passes marched out, they did indeed annihilate the Green Ape Clan's thirty thousand cavalry at Cloud Gorge. But when the army turned back, the Great Liang banner atop the passes had already fallen to the ground.

The demon cavalry had broken through the passes and completely wiped out the defending forces.

After occupying those two passes, the demon army barely paused before continuing south. It was only when the demon army was less than eighty miles from the third pass, Scenic Mountain Pass, that the news barely reached the pass.

The commander of Scenic Mountain Pass, Song Ming, came from a family of distinguished frontier officers. Although none of his ancestors had ever become a Great General, one of them had once risen to the position of deputy cavalry commander. Song Ming held the second-highest official rank among the current generation of the Song Family. He also had a cousin serving as a lieutenant general in the General's Office.

Now over forty years old, Song Ming was not particularly tall, but he possessed unusually long arms. Blessed with such natural advantages, his spear art ranked among the top in the Northern Frontier. However, because his martial talent was merely ordinary, he had only reached the Bitter Sea Realm even now, making it impossible for him to become a peerless general capable of matching someone like Li Changling.

After hearing the scouts' report, Song Ming waved them away, first wrote a military dispatch to send back to the General's Office, and then went up to the city wall. Standing beside an elderly sword cultivator with graying hair, he smiled and said, "Old Zhou, your luck isn't very good."

The elderly sword cultivator carried a flying sword on his back, but instead of a scabbard, it was wrapped layer upon layer in strips of cloth, an uncommon sight. Hearing Song Ming speak, the elderly sword cultivator, who had only arrived at the city wall not long ago, said calmly, "On the contrary, this old man thinks my luck is quite good. My sword is finally about to leave its sheath, and this old man will get to kill a few demons."

Song Ming teased, "Old Zhou, don't end up without killing a single demon before your sword breaks and you die."

The elderly sword cultivator, known as Old Zhou, opened his turbid eyes to glance at Song Ming in a rare occurrence, before slowly saying, "Actually... I am a little afraid."

Long accustomed to joking around with this elderly sword cultivator from the Sword Sect, Song Ming was caught off guard by such a serious answer. For a moment, he felt unexpectedly saddened.

Old Zhou glanced at him and said calmly, "Dying on the city wall was what I had planned before I came here, so I'm not afraid of that. But when I came, I'd already made up my mind to kill as many demons as I could before dying. If I really end up unable to kill even one, I'd have let down my parents. As for my disciple, he'll probably end up mocking his useless master in private, saying I wasn't worth a damn."

Song Ming plopped down beside the elderly sword cultivator and asked curiously, "Old Zhou, you've got a disciple?"

Old Zhou nodded. A faint smile appeared on his aged face. It seemed that only when mentioning his disciple did he truly become spirited. "His talent is better than mine. Even the Sect Master said that this boy wouldn't merely become a sword immortal in the future, he ought to become a great sword immortal. It's just a pity this old man won't live to see it."

Ordinarily, Song Ming would never have believed the old fellow's words, but this time he had no doubts. He simply said to himself, "You cultivators from the foreign lands spend your whole lives without marrying or having children. Is having a disciple to inherit everything you've learned enough?"

Old Zhou glanced at Song Ming and nodded. "More or less."

Song Ming smiled. "We're different. I've got a son who's only five years old. While I'm guarding this city wall, I'm lucky if I get to see him two or three times a year. If I die now, I'll never see him again. I really miss him."

Old Zhou thought for a moment before asking, "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what? Regret joining the army and dying here? If that's what you mean, then no. My father died in the Northern Frontier, and so did my grandfather. Going further back, among the Song Family, if it isn't a thousand who died in the Northern Frontier, it's at least eight hundred. We die like this not for rank or reputation, but for one reason alone - so that in the future there will be no more sons of the Song Family dying, and no more ordinary people dying either."

Song Ming grinned. "I hope my boy never has to set foot on a battlefield for his entire life. But if I die, and twenty years from now the demons are still around, then that boy will have to pick up a saber and sword and walk onto the battlefield too, fighting these monsters to the death. I hope he won't die in battle, but if the day comes when he has no choice but to die, then there's nothing that can be done."

The old sword cultivator looked at Song Ming. After thinking for a while, he sighed. "Back when I practiced the sword, whenever I occasionally thought about people like you, I always felt that since you soldiers ate imperial grain and drew a salary from taxpayers, you ought to die here. Only after coming here did I understand one thing. That money can buy many things, but it can't buy a life. If you want someone to willingly throw away their life here, it absolutely isn't something silver can accomplish."

"Everyone can die, so why should it be me?"

The old sword cultivator smiled. "Have you ever thought that?"

By now, Song Ming had no intention of hiding anything. He merely said calmly, "Of course I have. But thinking about it is enough. It's useless. My family has served in the military for generations. Most of these soldiers come from Xinliu Prefecture. Once the Northern Frontier Great Wall falls, it'll be their families who suffer. As for the people farther south, even if they aren't here themselves, more than half the taxes they pay every year are sent here. The imperial court isn't blind, and His Majesty isn't blind either. That's fair enough." "Especially over these past ten over years, where in the court are there still any scholars who look down on us martial artists? Every last one of them has already been dealt with. As for the foreign sects, our Lord Warden Commander has beaten them into not daring to utter a word. So there are no grievances left at all. Besides, as long as it's so our own families and fellow countrymen can live well, there's nothing else worth thinking about."

The old sword cultivator nodded and said with a smile, "Your reasoning is sound. But no one else should ever take your deaths here for granted."

Song Ming smiled. "Maybe there were people like that before, and maybe there still are now, but they can only think it behind people's backs. If they dare say it out loud and word gets around...that Lord Warden Commander of ours really does kill people."

The old sword cultivator smiled with vicissitudes of emotion, "For the Great Liang Dynasty, having a Lord Warden Commander like him is unquestionably a blessing."

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