Douluo Continent: A Fallen Immortal Descends to Earth, Slaying Gods with a Drunken Sword

Chapter 171 Northern Snowstorm, Storyteller and Soul Master Travel the Continent

On the high platform.

An old blue robe fluttered in the wind.

As the noise from the audience subsided, people looked at the storyteller with a mixture of doubt and unease.

The gavel was raised.

Snapped--

The room fell silent.

The hoarse voice slowly spread out:

"The red robe is too bright, it cannot match the blood of youth; the golden palace is too narrow, it cannot contain the true bones."

Every word is desolate.

The sound sent a chill down people's spines.

"Speaking of that day..."

"Martial Soul Holy City, before the Pope's Palace!"

"In the individual battle of the Soul Master Tournament, Sword Master Jianjiu defeated Shrek Academy's twin martial souls..."

"In the team battle, Lord Jianjiu single-handedly faced off against three members of the Spirit Hall's Golden Generation..."

"His Holiness the Pope, seated high on his divine throne, sternly proclaims: Li Zhexian, half a year ago, you brutally murdered seventeen deacons of my Spirit Hall!"

"Four of the titled Douluos who are usually elusive have actually appeared, all here to protect Lord Jianjiu!"

"Who would have thought that Lord Jianjiu also possesses twin martial souls!"

"The fourth soul skill is unleashed, pinning the Pope to the sacred mountain with a single sword strike!"

"To defeat a Title Douluo with the Soul Sect's power, Lord Sword Wine is truly an unparalleled genius throughout the history of the continent!"

"However, such an astonishing soul technique cannot be priceless?"

"Master Jianjiu..."

"Fallen..."

From noon until the sun begins to set.

The dramatic and suspenseful story drew gasps from the audience.

In a daze, I seemed to see that white-clad youth, his sword flashing coldly, defeating all the heroes.

however.

The story gradually fades, and a sense of sorrow pervades.

The storyteller on stage was in tears.

The audience was completely silent.

With a single sword strike, the Pope was pinned to the Spirit Hall's sacred mountain... Lord Sword Wine is dead...

A sense of utter horror, accompanied by a profound emptiness, weighed heavily on the hearts of the people of Tiandou City.

The young man in white who always entertained his friends at Shanxiangfang and chatted with ordinary people seemed to have vanished along with this thrilling story.

The storyteller ignored the growing commotion behind him.

He walked down the platform with a hunched back and shaki steps, strolling to his usual pastry shop on the street.

"Give me a pack of cloud cakes."

"Old sir, you finished early today. Master Jianjiu must have won the championship for our Tiandou City, right?"

The storyteller's lips twitched, revealing a slight smile.

"nature."

Holding the warm paper package, he returned home.

A small but clean and tidy courtyard, with green tiles on the roof and green brick walls.

He stood outside the courtyard, looking up at the brand-new eaves, his rough hands gently stroking the brick wall.

He silently went inside.

He handed the pastries to his babbling grandson.

Then, he pulled out his worn-out old bundle and gathered his new coarse cloth clothes.

The son and daughter-in-law were both taken aback when they saw this.

"Father, where are you going?"

The storyteller didn't even turn his head.

"To travel the heavens and the stars, to give lectures."

"what?!"

A sudden gasp arose.

"Father! How old are you? How can your body take this?"

"You've told enough of Lord Jianjiu's story..."

The son hurried forward.

The storyteller paused, but still didn't look up.

"I know that the Spirit Hall has been kind to all the spirit masters in the world."

"But that favor will not fall on the head of an old man like me who only knows how to talk."

"I'm just a storyteller..."

"It was Lord Jianjiu's reward money that allowed me to set up this new home."

"It was Lord Jianjiu who didn't mind the noise and allowed me to tell his story in public."

"It was also thanks to Lord Jianjiu's personal attendance that I was able to wear a red robe and have a moment of glory before I left."

The voice gradually rose in volume.

Trembling.

"How will the Spirit Hall publicize what happened in front of the Pope's Palace?"

“I don’t know how they distort the truth or turn black into white… But I’ve been a writer for most of my life, and I know about the things in this world. When many people talk about something, even black can be turned into gold, and falsehoods can become the truth over time.”

"Fighting and healing are no good for me."

"All I can do is carry this mouth and travel all over Tiandou and Xingluo to tell the truth exactly as it is."

"Let people remember that our Tiandou once produced such a brilliant young man."

"Father! Have you gone mad?!"

The son was both angry and anxious.

"You're just an old man traveling the continent all by yourself? What if you encounter a spirit beast? What if you run into bandits or brigands?!"

"If... if the Spirit Hall's Soul Masters hear this... are you out of your mind?!"

The storyteller slowly turned around.

His deeply lined face was calm.

“Your mother is gone, and you have started your own family and have children.”

"I'm getting old. In this world, there are always some things that are more important than life and death."

The son opened his mouth.

I saw an unprecedented light in my father's eyes.

The rest of his words were stuck in his throat.

The air inside the room was stagnant.

It was so heavy it was suffocating.

Tuk Tuk——

Tuk Tuk——

At this time.

A knock was made on the courtyard gate.

A voice pierced through the twilight:
"Open the door, sir!"

The son opened the door, puzzled.

Standing outside the door was none other than the Soul Master who had delivered the blood-stained paper earlier.

He changed his clothes, but couldn't hide the weariness on his face; only his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

The Soul Master did not enter; he stood at the door, his gaze passing over his son who had opened the door and landing directly on the storyteller inside who was carrying a bag.

"Sir, I heard everything you just said."

"Although I am not as good as you, I have received the kindness of Lord Jianjiu."

"But on that day, outside the Papal Palace, I witnessed everything with my own eyes."

“A prodigy like Lord Jianjiu deserves a prominent place in history.”

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving.

"I go with you!"

"I'll accompany you across the Heavenly Dou and the Star Luo, and tell you all the stories of Lord Jianjiu!"

"With my Soul Master robes on my side, ordinary villains dare not approach!"

"Just tell me! I'll protect you!"

"Perhaps in the future..."

"When the legend of Lord Jianjiu was recorded in historical books..."

"It can also be adorned with our two insignificant names..."

The setting sun melts gold.

The Soul Master's shadow was stretched very long.

It also reflected the excitement and satisfaction surging in the storyteller's cloudy old eyes.

He gripped the old bundle tightly in his hand, his lips trembling for a long time before finally uttering a single word:

"it is good!"

Dusk falls.

In the courtyard with blue tiles.

Two figures blended into the deepening night, bathed in a faint yet persistent light.

A journey to measure the earth with our own feet and to etch legends with our own voices has begun.

One month later.

Northern Territory of the Heavenly Dou Empire.

Snow-covered slopes lie beside the pine forest.

A lonely little tavern was half-hidden in the wind and snow.

The wind, carrying snowflakes, tried to sneak through the window cracks, but a hand reaching out from inside suddenly pulled down the window panel, shutting it out.

"Young man, you look unfamiliar; you don't seem to be from Crow's Keep!"

The proprietress brushed the dust off her hands, her voluptuous figure swaying with her steps.

A mixture of cheap cosmetics and an indescribable smell then spread.

She swayed her waist.

He walked toward the young figure in the corner, wearing a straw hat and wrapped in a heavy black fur coat.

"The North is such a horrible place that it's freezing to death. Even mercenaries who cultivate soul power can't do without burning coal for warmth."

"But the coal is toxic, and we have to keep the windows open for ventilation."

"The snow has blown in, I'm sorry to have neglected my guests~~"

　Chapter Three, ten minutes later...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)