I can see the blood bar and my purity is extremely high

Chapter 494: The Tavern is a Natural Place for Speech
In the Zhongling Dynasty, in a tavern in a certain city.

A storyteller passionately tells a thrilling story about the martial arts world.

When the gavel was slammed down with a crisp "bang", the story finally came to an end.

Before the words "Stay tuned for the next chapter" were uttered, a chubby boy was already jumping up and shouting, waving the chicken leg bone he had just chewed in his hand.

"Sir! In the decisive battle between the Heavenly Martial God and the Evil Weapon Gods, who won in the end? Did he achieve a breakthrough in battle and achieve the legendary heavenly realm that could rival the Martial Ancestor? Did he successfully cultivate his Supreme Fist?"

"You little master, do you want to make my old throat smoke and my tongue split so that you can tell me everything in one breath?" The storyteller did not scold the little boy for not knowing the rules. Instead, he took a gulp of herbal tea and joked with him with a smile.

"Sir, please tell me everything this time!"

The little fat boy felt inside the brocade robe with his greasy little hands and pulled out a few golden melon seeds.

"I, I, I have money, I won't let you talk for nothing!"

"Oh, oh, oh, this is too much, too expensive." The storyteller refused again and again, "If your parents knew about this, they would definitely teach you a lesson about spending money lavishly."

"I just heard you say that the Heavenly Martial God will fight the twelve evil soldiers alone, and I felt a little depressed."

The little fat boy seemed to have remembered some bad things that had happened to his buttocks, and his face suddenly became bitter.

"Feeling suffocated?"

The storyteller smiled slightly and looked around, at the crowd of onlookers who had gathered to watch.

"Everyone, what do you think?"

The people looked at each other in bewilderment.

When I first heard it, I felt very refreshed and applauded a lot.

But when I calmed down after listening to it and thought about it carefully, I couldn't help feeling a chill down my spine.

If the children can’t understand the implications behind this story, can’t the adults understand it either?
What are the twelve evil military gods?
Isn't this clearly talking about the twelve divine weapons that rule the world, and the twelve martial gods who control them?

If it weren't for the recent attack on the imperial capital, and if it wasn't for the rumor that even the national treasure was destroyed, causing officers and soldiers from all over the country to rush to the capital to defend the king, and no one paid attention to the rumors in the city, they would have all lost their heads.

To make the national treasure into an evil magic weapon and to describe the emperors who were at the level of martial gods as controlled puppets was a topic that could not even be touched upon.

"Storyteller, you still have time to shut up now. I can pretend that I didn't see or hear anything."

Behind the somewhat silent crowd, a black-faced man with a knife at his shoulder spoke in a deep voice, and faint fluctuations of blood and energy were emanating from his body.

"It's not easy to do your job. You have to make a living with half your head on the line. You never know when you will say something out of turn and have your tongue cut off. For the sake of your life, even if countless people like to hear this story, don't tell it anymore."

"I haven't heard the end of the story yet, why don't you let the master tell it!" The little fat man was a little unhappy, "You black-faced uncle are too mean! My father taught me that taking away someone's wealth is like killing their parents. If you don't let the master tell it, why don't you give him the gold melon seeds that he lacked!"

Being looked down upon by a little brat, the dark-faced man's face suddenly became darker than before.

He slammed the table and growled fiercely, "Little fat man, you know nothing! I'm saving him! It's because the world is in chaos now that the officials and detectives generally turn a blind eye. Otherwise, with the damn 'Legend of the Invincible Divine Fist' he just talked about, let alone the ending, he would have been thrown into prison and awaiting execution in the middle of the first chapter!"

"what?"

The little fat boy was frightened by him, and there was a flash of confusion and puzzlement in his little eyes.

"Thank you very much, my dear brother."

The storyteller laughed and bowed to the black-faced man.

"But there's no need to worry about that next time. My fellow men and women, I'm sure you've all heard the allusion in the story just now, so I won't hide it anymore."

"Yes, that's right. The evil weapon god was referring to the twelve martial gods and the twelve divine weapons. The remaining demons and monsters were also transformed from holy weapons and spiritual weapons."

“And the protagonist known as the Heavenly Martial God was the mysterious warrior who had relied on a pair of iron fists to charge into the imperial capital alone half a month ago, killing countless high-level warriors, beating the dog emperor to death, and smashing the national treasure!”

"You are such a daring lunatic! You are a follower of the cult of the destruction of gods that anyone can kill! How dare you pretend to be a storyteller and sneak into a tavern to spread heresy in broad daylight? Aren't you afraid that I will draw my sword and kill you right now to serve as a warning to others?"

The dark-faced man slammed the table and shouted angrily again, his hair and beard standing up and his eyes seemed to be spitting fire.

Apart from the lack of blood and energy fluctuations and the lack of any intention to draw the sword, everything looked as if blood was about to splatter.

"Over the years, you guys from the Destroying God Cult have been like cockroaches in a garbage dump. No matter how many times we have surrounded and exterminated you, you have never been able to be exterminated. You always pop up from everywhere to spread your disrespectful ideas and beliefs!"

"You have a stable life, but I think you are really tired of living and want to become a sacrifice for the country's divine weapon!"

Those who can be storytellers are all people with eloquence and smooth dealings.

With the skills he had acquired after years of wandering around in the martial arts world, he could naturally tell that the black-faced man was a government official who was not wearing an official robe.

The reason for not taking action was to give him a way out.

At this time, he just needs to bow his head, be humble, and say a few nice words, and this matter, which could be a big or small matter, will be over without mentioning it.

But who would have thought that the storyteller, who had always been able to avoid offending anyone, would be unexpectedly strong-willed, with a strong fanaticism burning in his eyes.

"What a bullshit divine weapon! They are nothing but demonic soldiers, monster soldiers, and evil soldiers! They are just a bunch of monsters that eat human lives and keep my people captive as blood food. How can they be called divine weapons? When I destroy the Divine Cult, I will destroy them!"

The storyteller stood up suddenly, and slammed the gavel in his hand on the table like a thunder, and his hawk-like eyes swept across everyone present.

"When I was listening to the story, I saw that everyone was filled with righteous indignation, wishing to eat the villain in the story alive and drink his blood. Why is it that in this world, they are so timid and even dare not talk about it?"

"The world is sick. It's very sick."

"Why can those divine soldiers be so high and mighty, while we have to become food?"

"Why can those divine soldiers keep us in captivity with a clear conscience, while we have to voluntarily become blood food for their growth?"

"As human beings, do we have to be imprisoned by the evil soldiers for the rest of our lives like those animals?"

"enough!"

The dark-faced man suddenly shouted loudly, and the long sword in his hand came out of its sheath, as if a pool of clear water was cutting through the air.

The storyteller sneered, and all the energy and blood that had been suppressed by the secret magic of the spirit dissipated, and the powerful pressure of an innate warrior burst out without reservation.

Just two fingers.

The long sword could no longer move forward even an inch and was held tightly in front of the storyteller.

"Is that enough? This is far from enough!"

"Crack!"

With just a little force, the precious sword made of fine steel shattered into pieces, leaving only half of it.

If he hadn't realized that the black-faced man's knife had no killing intent, the broken finger would not have been the knife.

It was the opponent's cervical vertebrae. "Innate! How is this possible?"

However, the man in the Meridian Forging Stage subconsciously loosened the knife in his hand, staggered and fell to the ground, his eyes a little dazed.

"There is no reason. Although there are many Xiantian warriors, how can a Xiantian of your age be an unknown person? How can you be willing to be a low-class storyteller?"

"Of course it's possible, but you're just ignorant." A trace of pity flashed across the storyteller's eyes. "You've been brainwashed by those evil puppets all day long, and even regarded sacrificing your blood and energy as a kind of honor. It's really pathetic. Do you know that you should have been able to easily enter the Xiantian realm, but someone destroyed the spiritual power cultivation manual?"

"Easily? A book on spiritual power cultivation?"

The distraught black-faced man looked confused, he had no idea what the other party was talking about.

"Yeah, easily."

The storyteller sneered.

"Those evil soldiers destroyed more than half of the martial arts system, making the innate realm, which should have been easy to break through, countless times more difficult, just to make humans weaker and make us unable to resist the evil soldiers."

"Look, isn't this method of destroying the classics similar to the way aardvarks are raised, where the male aardvarks are killed so that they can use all their energy to grow meat and make the meat more delicious? And aren't the twelve Martial God Emperors similar to the way chickens are raised, where only one or two roosters are left in the flock for breeding and crowing?"

As soon as these words were spoken, there was an uproar everywhere.

The crowd erupted in exclamations of surprise. Everyone was shouting, with expressions of shock on their faces one after another.

In this age of lack of education, ordinary people cannot understand high-sounding words.

But if we use the analogy of raising pigs, cattle, chickens and ducks, even illiterate old farmers and country women can fully understand what this represents.

"Fuck it, this is just like me raising pigs!"

"Are those divine weapons that can help people ascend to heaven in one step really so terrifying in nature?"

"The storyteller is right! Why should we become food?"

Seeing that public indignation had been aroused and his goal had basically been achieved, the storyteller showed an unprecedented smile of satisfaction on his face.

He decided to add more fuel to the fire.

"Everyone, ever since the birth of the Heavenly Martial God, the entire world has been in turmoil. As one divine weapon after another was smashed to pieces, I wonder how many divine soldiers were already terrified."

"They fear the terrifying force that can kill and overthrow them, and they fear that their own lives will come to an end, so they launch wars madly, and even sacrifice the blood of an entire nation to turn it into food for their own advancement."

"Today it is a foreign country, tomorrow it is a neighboring country, and one day it will come to our country!"

"Do you really want to be enslaved by those evil soldiers forever and be fed with blood that is worse than pigs and dogs? Our ancestors have been kept in captivity like this for generations. Do you have the heart to let your descendants live a life like we do now, neither human nor ghost?"

"The divine weapon is not invincible. If it is smashed, it will still die! Instead of sitting and waiting to die, trembling at home all day, why not join the God-Destroying Sect and join the team that destroys the divine weapons with me!"

A stone stirred up a thousand waves.

When things have come to this, many people's eyes have turned red.

A roar broke out from the throat that was once silent.

They usually accepted everything as it came, but now all the emotions that had been pent up in their hearts for many years finally exploded.

"Damn it, I'm going to rebel against them! I'm the boss!"

"It's a pity that I don't have the talent of a warrior. I'm still in the flesh refining stage. Otherwise, I'd better learn from the Heavenly Martial God and venture into the martial arts world. I'll start by killing the pseudo-divine weapons one by one and smash all these damn things to pieces!"

"There's a big scar on my head, but even if I die, my life has not been in vain. Eighteen years later, I'll be a brave man again!"

"Destroy them!"

"Kill kill kill kill kill kill!"

"We are not captive livestock food! Destroy all the magic weapons and give us humans a peaceful and clear world!"

The little fat boy also started shouting along with the adults.

At this moment, his face was filled with excitement, and he felt as if he had become the omnipotent Martial God in the story. He tightly grasped the chicken bone in his hand, just like a swordsman grasping his sword.

Which good man doesn’t have a heroic dream in his heart?

Who doesn’t want to become a great hero?
He has it, and so do others.

No matter how strong, strange, or terrifying the power of the magic weapon to control people's hearts is.

Over the years, dissatisfaction and hatred will gradually accumulate, eventually reaching a point where they can no longer be suppressed.

All it took to explode was a lit fuse.

The dark-faced man sat on the ground in a daze, looking at the people around him who were completely ignited by anger. It seemed that a glimmer of light was rekindled in his heart that had long been cold.

He thought back to twenty years ago, when he was still young, his father, who was a martial arts master and had made great military achievements, was summoned by the imperial court and became a "glorious" sacrifice at the Divine Weapon Festival.

He never returned, and not even his body was seen.

Do you really not blame me? Do you not feel angry? Do you not hate me?

It has been twenty years, why have I never thought of this?
Yes, my father died.

How could I not be angry and hate others when I was being devoured by the evil soldiers like a pig or a cow?

Drinking ice for ten years, it's hard to cool blood!

Looking at the storyteller who was laughing loudly, the dark-faced man felt that his blood circulation speed had suddenly increased by twice as fast, and his heart was beating like a dense drumbeat.

It felt like there was a fire burning in his chest and abdomen, and it also felt like there was a breath of air stuck in the middle, neither going up nor down.

"kill!"

Suddenly, a loud shout burst out from his mouth, almost piercing the eardrums of the people around him.

The next moment, the aura emanating from the black-faced man actually rose steadily, and he naturally broke through to a higher level.

It was something he had been pursuing for countless years but could not obtain.

innate!

The black-faced man's body was filled with blood and energy. He stood up from the ground without anyone noticing, and stood there like an iron tower.

He looked at the storyteller with angry eyes and uttered low but powerful words from his throat:

"Destroy the evil soldiers, count me in!"

(End of this chapter)