Lu Mingfei, become the King of Elden!

Chapter 85 The Blue Dancer and the Blind Swordsman

Lu Mingfei was deeply shocked by the old knight's words, and for a moment he was lost in thought, subconsciously muttering:

"Isn't this corrupt god a legitimate god? Wouldn't that make him even more powerful than a demigod? Who can seal him away? Goddess Marika?"

"Humph!"

The old knight let out a cold snort, his cloudy old eyes glaring fiercely at Lu Mingfei with the anger of "this child is beyond redemption," and he made as if to kick him.

Lu Mingfei had anticipated this move and nimbly jumped back, dodging it from a distance. His skillful movements were almost heartbreaking.

"Golden Goddess Marika?"

The old knight withdrew his foot, his voice carrying a sense of desolation:
"His power and majesty indeed caused the entire borderland to tremble and prostrate themselves. But the goddess who seals away corruption..."

He slowly shook his head:

"He is not qualified."

Seeing Lu Mingfei's still somewhat bewildered expression, the old knight sighed deeply:
“Boy, you still don’t understand the true terror of ‘Crimson Corruption’. It’s not a plague, but a curse. Flesh and blood, metal and stone, plants and trees, even weapons forged from fine steel, all crystallized with great power will eventually decay before it, irreversibly and incurably.”

"The moment the Goddess of Corruption personally tore open the curtain and descended upon the world, the entire borderland, from the high and mighty gods to the humble mortals struggling for survival, felt an impending catastrophe! Everyone understood that before that absolute equality of corruption, all living beings were but ants! The slightest carelessness, and the entire world would be reduced to a crimson, deathly silence!"

The old knight's voice lowered, and he recounted the ancient epic in a solemn tone:

"The Knoxians, the Ancestral Spirits, the Uru, the Ancient Dragons, and the Giants have all set aside their ancient grudges, united, and joined this desperate war!"

His tone suddenly changed and shifted:

"However, what ultimately decided the outcome of that war was not these races, whether they existed or disappeared, nor those powerful beings."

The old knight slowly raised his withered finger, flicked it, and pointed, as if illuminating two names buried by the dust of history:
"It was a dancer in blue and a blind swordsman."

"Legend has it," the old knight recounted in a deep voice, as if chanting an ancient ballad, "that a mysterious fairy, whose origins are unknown, appeared before the blind swordsman as if by fate. She did not bestow upon him a thousand armies, but only a sword and a proverb:

"Staying still allows for sedimentation, and sedimentation leads to corruption—remember to keep moving forward without lingering."

"And so, under the crimson rain of the goddess of corruption, the blind swordsman, wielding the sword given to him by the fairy, danced like flowing water! His figure weaved, spun, and leaped through the torrent of destruction. The goddess's rain of swords chased after him madly, but always lagged behind, unable to touch the reality of that 'dance'."

"When the song ended, the blind swordsman stood in the crimson swamp. And the great body of the corrupt goddess, high above, was covered with wounds, and her blood polluted the entire lake."

Lu Mingfei listened with complete absorption.

He forgot to breathe, forgot everything around him, his soul seemed to be pulled into that ancient, epic battle where dance stopped war, and only the old knight's deep voice echoed in his ears.

These lost historical dusts have long since vanished with the passage of time.

Only a powerful and ancient being like the old knight might be able to glimpse this astonishing glimpse from the Storm Knights' dusty, cobweb-covered ancient scrolls.

The blue-clad dancer and the blind swordsman are probably long forgotten.

"Old man, how old are you exactly?"

Lu Mingfei murmured.

"Hmph," the old knight sneered, his voice tinged with arrogance, "Anyway, it's dozens of times more than yours."

His cloudy, sharp eyes stared at Lu Mingfei, his voice stern:

"Kid, you're asking such detailed questions... Could it be that you're thinking of venturing into that hellish place called Galid?"

"Greed is a good thing, it's the spark that makes you stronger! But it depends on the time! I remember last time when you were leaving, you were still yelling that you were going to beat that 'limb-splitting' Grick on the head. What, Grick has already been slain by you?"

The old man's voice rose a few decibels, clearly indicating his extreme skepticism.

He knew that Lu Mingfei had suffered a setback at Fengsha Fortress, and he also knew how terrifying Grek was as a demigod. Even if Lu Mingfei had the power of the Dragon's Feast, in his opinion, challenging a demigod was too much of a stretch.

Is this kid just bragging, or has he simply forgotten his goal and started aiming too high?

“Uh…” Lu Mingfei snapped out of his daze, meeting the old knight’s questioning gaze. He habitually scratched his head, his silly expression resurfacing, a stark contrast to his earlier immersion in the epic.

"Hehe..." He chuckled dryly, his eyes darting around. "T-Teacher, please don't look at me like that... it's creepy..."

He rubbed his hands together like a fly:

"Well, Greg... well... he's already been beaten."

"Huh? You beat them?!"

The old knight suddenly straightened his hunched body, his eyes flashing with disbelief, and his voice rose sharply, booming like thunder in the empty church:
"You?! You killed a member of the Golden Family?! That 'limb-splitting' Grik?!"

"No, no, no! I'm not alone!"

Startled by this imposing manner, Lu Mingfei waved his hands repeatedly, hurriedly emphasizing his words and speaking rapidly:
"It was done with two of my friends. The three of us teamed up and, through a tremendous amount of effort, we wore him down. Seriously! How could I possibly be a match for him alone? I wouldn't even be enough to fill his teeth!"

His face was full of sincerity.

The old knight fell into a brief daze, then muttered to himself:

"Did 'Storm' defeat 'Gold'? I can still see it before I die."

His voice lowered, his face filled with a dazed expression, as if he were talking in his sleep, or as if he were savoring bitterness.

The old man stared intently at Lu Mingfei's face, as if trying to find a flaw in his lie.

But the sincerity in Lu Mingfei's eyes, bordering on naiveté, was undeniable.

“…Hehe…hahahaha…”

A short, hoarse chuckle suddenly rolled out of his throat, growing louder and louder until it triggered a violent cough that made his hunched body tremble violently.

Lu Mingfei instinctively wanted to step forward to help, but the old man abruptly waved his hand to stop him.

As his cough subsided, the old knight gasped for breath, the sound of his labored breathing particularly jarring in the empty church.

He's old, so old so fast, time is frantically draining away the last vestiges of his vitality.

However, the next moment, this descendant of the storm suddenly straightened his spine! His bent back seemed to be straightened a bit by this glory that had been dormant for many years!

He stepped forward, his gaunt body exuding an astonishing aura, his dragon eyes fixed intently on Lu Mingfei:
"Good lad! No matter how many of you join forces, the fact remains that Grek's head has fallen to the ground!"
He possesses limbs, golden blood, and great runes; even an army would find it difficult to defeat him.

I ask you—when you severed his noble head, did you use the swordsmanship I taught you?!

Lu Mingfei met that burning gaze without the slightest hesitation and nodded emphatically.

"it is good!"

A loud shout, like a thunderclap, made Lu Mingfei's eardrums ring.

"The descendants of the storm have defeated the offspring of gold, what a glorious achievement!"

"I thought... this broken will, this vanished fame of the Storm, would eventually rot in the dust along with my old bones... I never imagined that before I went to see the Storm King, I would hear such a battle report with my own ears! The Storm—has not yet ceased!"

He suddenly grabbed Lu Mingfei's shoulder, his withered fingers bursting with astonishing strength, gripping Lu Mingfei's bones painfully.

“You, Lu Mingfei! You are no longer merely the inheritor of the storm! You, with this body, bear witness to the ‘storm’! You represent us, the people who have been wandering for a thousand years, lost and adrift…”

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving, and each word resounded like a booming bell:

"To avenge this humiliation!!!"

Even if we lose our homeland, our will should not be lost.

My old friends, why must we choose a master to serve? Even as insignificant mortals... even if not destined for godhood... we can still overcome the strong with the weak, defeat the superior with the inferior, and slay gods with mortal power. How can such deeds not be considered great? How can they not be called heroic?

(End of this chapter)