Martial Cultivator

Since the military report from the north spread, throughout the entire Great Liang, for some reason, everyone was extremely excited this time.

Aside from the excitement of the common people, many cultivators also celebrated, inviting friends to drink wine and eat meat, as if it were their own sect that had won.

In fact, such a scene would have been almost impossible a few years ago. How the Northern Frontier army resisted foreign enemies in the north had always seemed only natural to them. To expect them to feel honored by it would have been wishful thinking.

But in these past years, with the Great Liang Emperor crossing the desolate north, and with Chen Chao slaughtering in all directions there, these events accumulated one by one, like a silent spring rain that gradually seeped into everyone’s hearts.

Previously, the cultivators in the foreign lands might still have been wary of the attitude of the Infatuation Daoist Temple and did not dare to voice their opinions, but by now, that great daoist sage Yun of the Infatuation Daoist Temple had almost openly declared that he would stand with Great Liang. As a result, the cultivators in the foreign lands naturally no longer had any reservations.

Of course, celebration was celebration, but at the same time, another piece of news spread. Although the demon race vanguard army had been repelled, their main forces were gathering again, clearly preparing to march south once more, and this time with the strength of the entire race. As soon as this news spread, many cultivators smashed their wine bowls and immediately headed north, creating quite a momentum.

It was said that at the border of Xinliu Prefecture, more than twenty groups of cultivators gathered together, eventually forming a force of several hundred people heading north together. Such a spontaneously formed northbound force would have been impossible before, but now, its appearance did not seem strange to many.

And right at the border of Xinliu Prefecture, when this several-hundred-strong group passed by a small commandery city, at the city gate, a tall old man cupped his fists and asked, “Are you all heading to the Northern Frontier to kill demons?”

Within the group, the cultivator chosen as leader was also an old man with white hair and beard. He was an itinerant cultivator from the south named Daoist Tri-willow. His realm was not particularly high, at the Great Beyond, but over the years he had roamed mountains and forests, slaying demons in the wilderness. After joining this northbound group, he was quickly elected as its leader. Hearing the tall old man’s question, Daoist Tri-willow also cupped his fists and replied, “Indeed. May I ask who you are, Fellow Daoist?”