I, a Demonic Nascent Soul Patriarch, Begin by Snatching a Cheat

The sect induction ceremony lasted seven days. Its sheer scale swept up almost the entire Daoyang Sect in the grand event. Every hall and pavilion blazed with light, and disciples wove constantly between them. Spirit boats converged from all directions, packing the sky outside the sect so densely that their fluttering banners blotted out the sun.

Ordinary sects had never seen such a spectacle. The addition of a new Nascent Soul Late Stage grand cultivator was enough to make any faction reevaluate the Daoyang Sect’s weight.

Ten thousand sects came to offer congratulations; cultivators surged in like a tide.

Jiuyou’s youthful face appeared before the crowd several times, drawing a wave of low gasps of amazement with each appearance.

Beneath the vault of the sky, spiritual light intertwined into a vast sea. The crowds surged, their voices boiling over in a deafening clamor.

The drifting snow of Southern Frost fell from above, evaporating from the sheer heat before it could even touch the crowd, as if not even the blizzards could suppress the fervor of this grand event.

Among the visiting external factions alone, no fewer than fifty Nascent Soul cultivators had arrived in person. In their own territories, these were figures whose every word carried absolute weight. Yet standing before this mountain gate, they unconsciously reined in their usual arrogance, their gazes carrying a cautious politeness whenever they looked toward the seat of honor.

To maintain their prestige, almost all of the Daoyang Sect’s remaining forty-five Nascent Soul cultivators were present, save for the Great Elder, who never showed his face.

When those forty-five figures appeared simultaneously on both sides of the high platform, an unrestrainable wave of gasps swept through the crowd below. Forty-five Nascent Soul elders from a single sect—anywhere in the Cultivation World, such a force was enough to dictate the fate of an entire region.

As the ceremony reached its climax, Jiuyou stood alone in the center of the grand arena. It was a massive stone platform, the grounds below its steps spacious enough to hold a million people. With the gazes of countless thousands gathered upon him, his expression remained impassive as he accepted the robes and Token of a Daoyang Sect Supreme Elder from Zhou Chengshan. The moment he took them, he became the Daoyang Sect’s sixth Supreme Elder.Once the rites concluded, Zhou Chengshan introduced Jiuyou to the rest of the Daoyang Sect’s Nascent Soul elders one by one.

They looked at him with varying expressions. Some scrutinized him, some remained cold, and others sized him up with curiosity. After all, it was impossible for them not to care when a cultivator of the same realm had joined them halfway and immediately taken the sixth seat of power.

Jiuyou did not mind. He returned their bows when appropriate and exchanged pleasantries when required, his demeanor perfectly measured as though he were long accustomed to such occasions.

A few individuals in the crowd clearly carried the sharp, piercing aura unique to sword cultivators. Jiuyou let his gaze linger on them for a fraction of a second, but he asked no questions. He knew his Sword Intent was not yet fully formed; speaking up rashly would only expose his shortcomings.

After the ceremony ended, he returned to Ember Sword Peak and once again immersed himself before the six spirit-sealing gem walls.

He sat there for another several months. He repeatedly studied those sword scars, trying to capture a sliver of the method to condense his own from the lingering Sword Intent, but he always felt separated from the truth by a thin layer of paper.

He did not give up, but he began trying another approach. Leaving his immortal cave, he walked throughout the sect. He did not go out of his way to socialize, only occasionally stopping to exchange a few words when he bumped into someone, or walking shoulder to shoulder with a fellow disciple along the mountain paths.

Most people remained exceedingly polite but distant, though a rare few were more enthusiastic and willing to chat at length.

Perhaps due to his period of Mortal World Heart Tempering, he handled these social interactions with a bit more composure and patience than before, as if he understood that some things simply could not be rushed.

The wind and snow fell upon the bamboo forest of Ember Sword Peak, bending the stalks, only to quietly melt away one afternoon.

He continued to walk his path, neither anxious nor rushed.

During a chance encounter later on, Jiuyou befriended an elder of Sword Peak. The man called himself Old Man Wave Chaser. He possessed Late Golden Core cultivation, was over four hundred years old, and was nearing the very end of his lifespan.

When they first met, the elder had been practicing his sword arts. Upon seeing Jiuyou, he bowed respectfully. His attitude was proper, yet he lacked the obvious fear that other disciples showed. Jiuyou took special note of that.

The two slowly became acquainted. Jiuyou had originally intended to use the old man’s connections to reach out to the Nascent Soul sword cultivator on Sword Peak, but after a few interactions, he gradually realized that Old Man Wave Chaser was different from the rest. The old man spent the vast majority of his time practicing his sword. Whether it was early morning, late afternoon, or the edge of twilight, passing by that clearing guaranteed a sight of his figure repeatedly practicing the exact same sword forms.

Jiuyou later asked other disciples on Sword Peak about him, and the answers were all identical: ever since Old Man Wave Chaser joined the sect, he had practiced like this every single day without interruption. Jiuyou knew better than anyone just how hard it was for a person to persist at something for so many years when there was no hope in sight.

One day, when Jiuyou returned to Ember Sword Peak, Zhou Chengshan was already waiting outside his immortal cave. He handed over a Storage Pouch containing an eight-chi square Jinli Stone—enough to forge several more Ember Moon Swords.

Zhou Chengshan explained that this was the result of a discussion between him and Eldest Senior Brother. Since Jiuyou had returned the Heavenly Spirit Ring, the sect needed to show its appreciation. Knowing that the Ember Moon Swords required Jinli Stone, they had someone retrieve a piece from the treasury to deliver to him.

Before leaving, Zhou Chengshan stood at the entrance of the cave for a moment. His gaze swept over the sea of bamboo and the white snow below the mountain, as if recalling some past memories.

He brought up Perfected Jinli, mentioning that the martial uncle had spent his entire life pursuing his own Dao. Among his peers, he had been the most resolute. Even when his lifespan was nearing its end, he never stopped moving forward; instead, he left the Daoyang Sect and ventured off to even farther lands. Zhou Chengshan did not know exactly what the man had been searching for back then, but when he left, there had been no hesitation in his eyes.

With those words spoken, he left, as if he had merely brought it up in passing.

Jiuyou stood at the entrance, watching his fading back, and did not immediately head inside.

Later, he made another trip to Sword Peak. Old Man Wave Chaser was still practicing his sword in that clearing. His movements were slightly slower than they had been a few days ago, but his posture remained perfectly steady.

Jiuyou stood a short distance away and watched for a while.

Only after the old man sheathed his sword did he ask, ”Your lifespan is nearing its end. Instead of trying to secure benefits for your descendants, you insist on practicing the sword day after day. What is it all for?”

Old Man Wave Chaser returned his blade to its scabbard.

He seemed to have pondered this question many times, for his answer came without hesitation. ”Descendants have their own paths to walk, and I have mine. People always say the waves behind drive the waves ahead, so I call myself Wave Chaser. I will simply keep chasing them.” With that said, he smiled.

Jiuyou said nothing more. The wind rushed down from the snowy peaks, lifting the loose hair at his temples.

In that moment, the problem that had plagued him for days seemed to shatter on its own.

He stood there for a moment before slowly turning to head back. Walking along the path, he suddenly thought of Zhou Chengshan’s words, of Perfected Jinli’s unhesitating back as he left the sect, and of Old Man Wave Chaser’s calm response as he sheathed his sword.

Suddenly, he understood.

He had constantly been staring at the sword scars left by others, studying the Sword Intent of others like a student tracing a calligraphy book. No matter how perfectly he copied every stroke, the handwriting would never be his own. He had spent so long looking at others that he had forgotten to ask himself: how exactly should he strike with his own sword?

It wasn’t Perfected Jinli’s sword, and it wasn’t Old Man Wave Chaser’s sword. It had to be the sword edge he sharpened himself. He stopped walking. Standing alone on the mountain path, the wind and snow fell upon his shoulders and quickly melted away. It was as if he had finally grasped something, or perhaps he had simply decided to throw away the calligraphy book he had traced a hundred times over.

In the distance, high upon Sword Peak, that aged figure raised his sword once more.

”Tracing scars for half a year amounted to naught; I suddenly find the sword within my own frame.

”I envy no other man’s three-inch blade; for when my sword is drawn, I am not the same.”

Swirling snowflakes drifted past like the shadows of swords. Jiuyou let out a self-deprecating laugh, turned around, and began walking back toward Ember Sword Peak.