Star Martial Soaring Cloud

How should we explain the relationship between Kyushu and Fusang?

Hatred is not innate, but rather gradually etched into the flesh and blood of the victim by the perpetrator.

Once upon a time, there was a wealthy family with a thriving business, a long-standing cultural tradition, and businesses that spanned the world. Moreover, the master of the house had a heart for the world and was charitable. Whenever he encountered someone in distress, he would give them all he had, without ever being stingy.

One year, the owner traveled to a desolate place on an island and happened to meet a wandering orphan.

The child was ragged, pale, and emaciated, sleeping under the open sky and on the ground. A single blizzard could take his life.

The kind-hearted owner took the orphan home and raised him with great care.

He was taught to read and write, to distinguish right from wrong; he was taught etiquette and manners, and how to conduct himself; and he was also taught all the family's martial arts and supernatural abilities without reservation.

Later, when the orphan longed for his homeland, his master did not stop him. Instead, he provided money and labor to help him return to that desolate land. He also sent craftsmen to accompany him, teaching his people how to cultivate the land, grow crops, forge tools, and build cities. He even passed on his family's moral principles of "benevolence, propriety, trustworthiness, and wisdom."

That once desolate island, thanks to the kindness of its inhabitants, gradually came to life and became a place to live.

Everything was as beautiful as a dream.

But dreams, too, will one day shatter.

The owner passed away in old age, and the vast family business was passed down to his descendants.

It is common for brothers to have disagreements and different ideas about the development of the family business. Which family has never had a quarrel?

But the orphan didn't think that way.

Seeing the prosperity of his master's family, he developed a strong desire for it, believing himself to be the rightful heir to the family business and the master's only true successor.

He forgot the kindness of his parents and the virtue of their teachings, remembering only his own ridiculous ambition. Taking advantage of the internal strife within his master's household and his inability to attend to other matters, he brazenly raised the butcher's knife.

He wanted to take everything from his master and trample the land that had nurtured him under his feet.

He led his people in an invasion, burning, killing, looting, and committing all sorts of atrocities.

They killed an elder who knew the past, intending to sever the master's lineage.

He even dug up his master's grave and ruthlessly slaughtered his master's descendants—from the elderly to women and children, every household connected to his master had a soul killed by his blade.

He feared his master's skills and supernatural abilities, because his aptitude was limited and he had not mastered them all.

He then went on a mad spree, capturing his master's children, subjecting them to torture, dismembering, studying, and modifying them. He didn't even spare infants in swaddling clothes, all in an effort to find weaknesses and flaws in his master's techniques.

He seized most of the old master's vast estate, leaving the land devastated and the people suffering.

If it weren't for a peerless genius among the descendants of the master who rallied the remaining clansmen, fought a bloody battle for decades, and finally repelled him at the cost of countless lives, this family legacy would probably have long since vanished.

After the war, the family was in ruins, suffering heavy casualties and having exhausted all its resources. Even though the genius was filled with rage, he was powerless to lead everyone across the sea to the beggar's hometown to settle this deep-seated blood feud.

Later, someone tried to mediate and resolve the feud, but no matter what the conditions were, that genius remained silent and unresponsive.

But who could have imagined that the orphan would not only refuse to admit his mistake, but would go even further, tampering with his family history, spreading the word that he was the rightful heir, and falsely claiming that the Nine Provinces bullied him and that he was a "victim" who rose up in resistance—he pointed to the scars on his body and the dead members of his clan, lamenting his "suffering," but never mentioning that he was the one who first drew his sword.

He even revered his deceased clansmen as "heroes," worshipping them annually and erecting temples and monuments in their honor. He secretly sent people to infiltrate his master's home, spreading his fallacies and heresies, and falsely accusing the old master's descendants of being warlike and bloodthirsty.

A story about a farmer and a snake.

The snake merely bit the farmer once and then fled, but this snake not only bit the farmer but also wanted to take everything from him and declare to the world that the farmer deserved his fate.

This is Fusang.

Therefore, they will no longer acknowledge that the cultivation methods of Fusang and Kyushu share the same origin.

To cover it up, they apprenticed under a foreign race, pieced together various martial arts techniques from across the land, and repackaged them as "ninjutsu."

Of the eight elements of the Nine Provinces, Japan can only master five: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Therefore, it divides these into five types of ninja.

The five great supernatural powers and secret techniques were firmly controlled by the five major families of Japan: Ansei, Mabe, Fukusen, Hatoda, and Koyama, becoming their sharpest weapon to once again covet Kyushu.

On Qingming Cliff, the wind howled like a knife, whipping up pebbles as it swept past.

An Shengyilang hung in mid-air, his clothes fluttering in the wind. He looked down at the six people below him, his cloudy eyes full of amusement.

Everyone has their own judgment of a person, but only after experiencing certain things can one truly see that person clearly.

For Wang Xiao, Lin Shisan was never trustworthy from beginning to end, and he never let his guard down.

The moment Ansei Ichiro appeared, this leader who had been vowing to lead the Kitahara Alliance to survival had already quietly retreated behind the crowd.

When Wang Xiao caught a glimpse of his movements out of the corner of her eye, a sliver of hope remained in her heart—he wouldn't do it at this time…

But what can one expect from someone like that?

Lin Shisan fled without looking back.

Without hesitation, without doubt, and without even a word of explanation.

He turned around abruptly, his figure transforming into a white blur as he sped down the mountain, disappearing into the rocks and mist in an instant.

Yuan Kong also saw it; this usually gentle monk had his brows furrowed into a knot, murmured a Buddhist chant, and his eyes were full of disappointment.

Xiao He's face was ashen, and he gripped his long sword tightly, but he said nothing.

The three of them knew more or less about Lin Shisan's character, so they had been keeping an eye on him, but they still didn't expect him to escape so easily.

Wang Xiao did not turn around to look at Lin Shisan.

He wasn't surprised, but he found it incredibly ironic that someone who claimed to be the rising sun, someone who said he was willing to do everything in his power to deal with the Tianyi Sect, didn't even have the courage to stop when danger struck.

"I'll hold him off! You guys get out of here!"

"You all leave!"

Two voices rang out simultaneously, firm and resolute.

Wuchen and Lingcheng.

They stepped forward almost simultaneously, blocking the crowd.

His pristine green robe fluttered in the wind, his long sword held horizontally across his chest, his face calm as still water, yet deep within his eyes lay a resolute determination to face death and a chilling killing intent.

Ling Cheng pulled down his sleeve and gripped the well-worn longsword tightly. His hair was disheveled by the wind, but his face still wore a flamboyant smile. In that smile, there was no fear, only an indomitable courage.

Everyone knows what staying means.

But these two people didn't hesitate for even a moment.

They were unaware of Lin Shisan's background, so they were never distracted and focused all their attention on what was in front of them.

No one asked them to stay, nor did anyone order them to stay, but they stood up and stood side by side, like two steadfast pine trees, standing proudly between heaven and earth.

Wang Xiao felt something burning in his chest, a scalding, indescribable emotion—not anger, not tragedy, but a profound shock.

Trust should be given to people like this.

Entrust it to these pioneers who dare to be the first and never back down in the face of danger.

There are fierce tigers in the mountains, and I have the ambition to subdue them. Even if I am no match for them, I will accumulate strength for those who come after me to defeat them. What is there to fear?

"Trying to run away?"

An Shengyi's voice came from mid-air, sharp and piercing, like fingernails scratching an iron plate, carrying undisguised mockery and contempt.

His gaze followed the direction Lin Shisan had disappeared in, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his lips.

"Can they escape?"

He didn't move, his body still suspended in mid-air, but slowly raised one foot and then gently stepped down.

It was just that light step.

The earth roared, as if a giant beast was howling underground. The rocks on the top of Qingming Cliff suddenly cracked, and spiderweb-like cracks spread rapidly. Countless pebbles were launched from the ground and suspended in mid-air, as if held up by an invisible hand.

The pebbles varied in size, from as small as a fist to as large as a millstone. They were densely packed, obscuring half the sky and blocking out most of the light from the cliff top, plunging the world into darkness in an instant.

An Shengyilang formed hand seals with unhurried movements, his fingertips flying across the paper with an eerie rhythm, as if he were performing an ancient ritual.

"Earth Release: Rock Sword Technique".

As the cold words fell, the suspended pebbles suddenly moved.

They spun, stretched, and deformed wildly in the void—the sharp edges were smoothed out, the thick edges were stretched, and they turned into stone swords that gleamed with an earthy yellow light.

The swords pointed downwards, radiating a chilling aura. The dense array of stone swords, like dark clouds before a storm, weighed heavily on everyone's heads. The invisible pressure alone made it difficult for them to breathe.

Then, the stone sword fell.

It wasn't just a burst, it was wave after wave, continuous and endless.

The first wave of stone swords rained down like raindrops, each one carrying immense force, tearing through the air and emitting a sharp whistling sound. Countless whistles blended together, making people's eardrums ache.

Xiao He swung his sword, and the Haoqi Sword unleashed a dazzling golden sword light. The sword light, like a rainbow piercing the sun, swept away a section of the stone sword above his head, shattering the stones and sending dust flying everywhere.

Yuan Kong swept his pig-slaughtering knife across the ground, causing a surge of golden light from the Buddhist gate. The knife's energy surged like a tidal wave, shattering stone swords wherever it passed, turning them into dust.

He chanted incantations, activating his golden body to its fullest extent. A faint golden glow emanated from his skin, and when the pebbles hit him, they only left shallow white marks, unable to harm him in the slightest.

The dustless longsword transformed into a purple streak of light, its sword momentum like a rainbow, reaching the extreme speed, shredding all the stone swords falling towards his head. His movements were fluid and graceful, the sword shadows dense and impenetrable, yet with each swing of the sword, fragments of stone would graz his robes, leaving cuts on his green robes from which blood would seep.

Ling Cheng's swordsmanship was the most ferocious. With a single slash, his sword energy surged, splitting the stone sword in front of him in two. However, there were too many stone swords, and one wave after another rose up. He had no choice but to retreat repeatedly, his steps becoming faster and faster, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

Wang Xiao used the Seven Star Rain Steps, his figure as ghostly as he weaved and dodged through the rain of stones. His Seven Star Sword precisely shattered every stone sword that was aimed at his vital points, but his arm was already numb. Every block felt like being hit by a mountain, and his tiger's mouth was throbbing with pain.

This is only the first wave.

An Shengyilang remained suspended in mid-air, not moving an inch. He merely watched the people below with interest, his eyes filled with indifference.

"what?"

He suddenly let out a soft exclamation, his gaze falling on the direction Lin Shisan had fled, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.