An Envoy’s Visit and a Looming Calamity

On the Cloud Terrace, the Daoist aura from the Dao Monarch’s sermon had not yet fully dissipated, but the crowd was already receding like a tide, gradually departing.

Ever since the Era of Dao-Crafting, modern cultivators had held a particular disdain for the tedious old customs and rituals of bygone days.

Even as time flowed on and new traditions slowly formed, subtly tending towards the ancient era’s obsession with outward ceremonies and rites, the ingrained practicality in their bones remained unchanged.

Most of the envoys from various sects had already followed the attendant disciples waiting outside the formation, heading to the secluded halls scattered throughout the mountains for lodging.

The Eastern Desolation, named for its “desolation,” was naturally a land of vast, sprawling mountains and sparse human habitation.

As the only sect with a complete lineage in this region, the Three-Unity Sword Sect, though not wealthy, possessed ample territory, with enough guest halls to comfortably accommodate visitors from all directions.

However, the envoy from the Immortal Alliance headquarters in Central Province did not follow the general flow.

He wore the standard gray Daoist robes of the Immortal Alliance, his build slightly slender, his face so ordinary it was almost indistinct; he would be hard to find once lost in a crowd.

At this moment, this envoy, lagging half a step behind Mo Tingbei, was passing through a secluded grove of purple bamboo, making his way towards an exquisite pavilion nestled against a cliff face.

The rustling of bamboo leaves only accentuated the profound stillness of the place.

The pavilion was constructed from the Eastern Desolation’s unique warm jade and ironwood, possessing both the gentle warmth of jade and the rustic simplicity of wood.

Upon pushing open the door, one found the interior furnishings extremely simple: a single incense table and two meditation cushions.

In a corner, a small bronze incense burner exhaled tendrils of blue smoke, its cool fragrance having a calming effect on the mind.

The four walls were unadorned, save for one which held a window, fully open, directly facing the vast spectacle of surging cloud seas and peaks piercing the heavens.

The grandeur of the scene was expansive, cleansing one’s heart of all impurities just by gazing upon it.

“Envoy, please be seated.”

Mo Tingbei casually settled onto one of the meditation cushions, a light flick of his sleeve gesturing for the other to make himself comfortable.

The envoy secretly scrutinized this unfathomable senior.

The Sword Venerable’s expression was peaceful, entirely unlike the imposing aura that, in the envoy’s impression, overshadowed all contemporary Purple Mansion cultivators in the world; instead, he resembled a gentle elder from a neighboring village.

This was despite the fact that the Sword Venerable’s years of cultivation seemed even shorter than his own.

The envoy sat down as instructed, his posture betraying a barely perceptible restraint. His hands lightly clasped on his knees, occasionally straightening his Daoist robe as it fell on the cushion, as if unconsciously guarding against something.

He seemingly inadvertently adjusted his collar slightly, obscuring his throat, making it impossible to see clearly.

“Congratulations to your esteemed sect’s Dao Monarch Sue for attaining the Golden Core, from this day forth, her destiny aligns with the heavens.”

The envoy’s voice was slightly low, a deliberately flattened tone that revealed little emotion.

“This junior, Zhao Luo, has been dispatched by the Immortal Alliance to offer congratulations.”

He retrieved a scroll bearing the seal of the Immortal Alliance from his storage magical artifact and respectfully presented it:

“This is the list of congratulatory gifts prepared by the Immortal Alliance upon learning of Dao Monarch Sue’s ascension to the Golden Core realm; I ask Sword Venerable to review it. I arrived in haste and could not bring all the congratulatory gifts; I hope Sword Venerable will forgive me.”

Mo Tingbei accepted the scroll, scanning it briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing his mind.

The Immortal Alliance was quite generous this time.

“The envoy is truly thoughtful.”

Mo Tingbei smiled faintly, picked up the warmed jade pot on the table, and poured out two cups of clear tea.

The tea was emerald green, imbued with a faint spiritual energy.

“In this desolate mountain wilderness, there are no fine treasures with which to entertain honored guests. Only this wild tea, grown by ourselves, is somewhat refreshing; the envoy might wish to try it.”

“Many thanks, Sword Venerable.”

The envoy, seeing Mo Tingbei personally pour him tea, felt rather flattered, accepting the teacup with both hands.

During this, his fingertips brushed momentarily and ever so lightly against Mo Tingbei’s, and he immediately withdrew them, lowering his head to take a small sip, concealing the fleeting ripple in his eyes.

“Good tea.”

Mo Tingbei, as if he hadn’t noticed, also picked up his teacup, his gaze resting on the other, his tone gentle:

“Observing the envoy, your aura is solid and substantial, far stronger than when you first arrived at our sect. To achieve such progress in less than an hour, the Immortal Alliance truly boasts a wealth of talent, living up to its reputation.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Luo’s hand, holding the teacup, stiffened almost imperceptibly. A faint trace of embarrassment flashed across his face, and he mumbled vaguely:

“Sword Venerable flatters me too much. My aptitude is dull, and the Alliance’s affairs are numerous and complicated; in my cultivation… I have indeed been negligent, failing to live up to the Alliance’s nurturing.”

His words were humble, but vague, as if he harbored some unspeakable secret.

Mo Tingbei’s gaze flickered slightly, but he did not press the matter; instead, he said, seemingly casually: “Cultivation is like sailing against the current; external disturbances are indeed a great taboo. The Immortal Alliance governs the Nine Provinces, and its affairs are complex; surely there are many difficulties involved, wouldn’t you agree?”

Zhao Luo raised his head. A flicker of wariness crossed his eyes; though quickly concealed, it did not escape Mo Tingbei’s notice.

Sensing that Mo Tingbei seemed to be probing for something, he pondered for a moment before tactfully replying: “The Alliance’s internal affairs operate under their own rules and regulations. However, there are many parties involved, and the minor disagreements within are truly not for outsiders to speak of.”

With these words, it was clear he intended to end the topic.

Mo Tingbei understood implicitly; far from being displeased, he instead felt a flicker of admiration for this person.

To be able to maintain proper decorum and uphold dignity under such circumstances, though appearing somewhat green, it was rare to find such impartiality.

He set down his teacup, his expression gradually growing solemn: “Since that is the case, I shall speak plainly then. Besides conversing, there is indeed one matter for which I wish to borrow the Immortal Alliance’s strength, which might benefit all living beings.”

Zhao Luo said with a serious expression: “Sword Venerable, please speak.”

“The Eastern Desolation is barren, and the path of immortals does not flourish, but the mortal world, however, is quite prosperous. It is just that recently, a great calamity might soon descend upon the mortal realm of the Eastern Desolation. I wish to organize a rescue effort to help the mortals of the Eastern Desolation avoid this catastrophe. This matter requires mobilizing a large amount of resources and coordinating relations between various parties; this is beyond the power of a single sect or family.”

Mo Tingbei said slowly, his gaze serene: “The Immortal Alliance upholds the righteous path and protects all living beings. If this matter receives the Alliance’s support, it will surely achieve twice the result with half the effort, saving countless common people from dire straits.”

As soon as these words were uttered, Zhao Luo’s eyes instantly flashed with immense astonishment, forgetting even to conceal it, and she blurted out: “The Eastern Desolation faces disaster?! How did Sword Venerable come to know this?”

A strangely sharp, clear note emerged in her voice; though she immediately reined it in, the trace had already been revealed.

Mo Tingbei raised his cup and sipped his tea, neither answering nor exposing her.

A tempest raged in Zhao Luo’s heart.

Just a short while ago, the Immortal Alliance, through a certain monitoring art deployed across the Nine Heavens, had detected extremely unusual energy fluctuations in several mortal regions.

According to analyses by Alliance scholars, it was highly probable that these were ancient forbidden demonic arts that had long been sealed away.

If the reappearance of demonic arts proved true, leaving them unaddressed could lead to immense disaster.

The Alliance had already secretly dispatched a team of experienced headquarters patrol envoys, led by veteran Purple Mansion cultivators, to investigate.

The latest reports only confirmed the existence of abnormal spell fluctuations; the specific situation had yet to be fully clarified.

Yet this Sword Venerable, far away in the Eastern Desolation, seemed to already be aware of certain circumstances.

How much did Sword Venerable know?

Could it be that the surveillance methods he had deployed in the mortal realm were no less effective than the Immortal Alliance’s monitoring arts spread across the Nine Heavens?

Or perhaps…

The envoy’s mind raced, then she suddenly felt relieved.

That’s right, the Three-Unity Sword Sect had dominated the Eastern Desolation for many years, deeply rooted; it wouldn’t be surprising to say they had long established stable contact with mortal dynasties.

After all, the Immortal Alliance had always been indifferent to such gray-area dealings.