Retirement begins with summoning Yuan Tiangang

My name is Shadow Seven.

Perhaps I should have a real name, but in that place, a name is the most useless thing.

The cold rain mixed with the warm liquid running down my forehead blurred my vision.

The lungs roared like broken bellows, each breath carrying a rusty, metallic sweetness.

His true energy was long exhausted, his meridians were painfully empty, and the tiger's mouth of his right hand holding the short blade was cracked, with blood dripping down the cold metal and spreading into a small dark red stain on the muddy ground beneath his feet.

Next to me is my younger brother, Kageya.

He was more badly injured than me. His left arm was twisted unnaturally, and a deep, bone-revealing wound on his chest was gushing blood. He leaned against a withered tree, his face as pale as paper. Only in his eyes, which were exactly like mine, did an indomitable, or rather, resentful flame still burn.

Before us, the "target," who should have only been at the fifth level of the Innate Realm and committed countless evils, was grinning maliciously as it approached step by step.

The aura emanating from him was that of a genuine eighth-level innate cultivator!

The immense pressure of true energy was like a tangible mountain, making it hard for us to breathe.

"Hey, you two clueless little bugs, your intelligence was wrong? You're out of luck!"

The burly man licked his lips, his eyes filled with a cat-and-mouse smirk.

"Perfect! We'll take your heads and get a bigger reward!"

The intelligence was wrong...it was wrong again! This damned world! This damned organization!

Five years ago, Xiao Ba and I joined the "Shadow Pavilion" with a ridiculous fantasy of punishing evil and upholding justice.

He thought he could use the sword in his hand to eliminate all injustices in the world, and at least get a stable source of resources for cultivation, so he wouldn't have to wander like a stray dog ​​anymore.

It's been five years!

Five whole years!

Like two most loyal hunting dogs, we traverse the dirtiest corners, completing tasks, both overt and covert.

His body was covered in countless scars, and his hands were stained with indelible blood.

There are good people and bad people.

The initial beliefs have long since faded, leaving only numbly swinging the knife and a thirst for resources.

But the result?

The opportunity for promotion was easily snatched away by the newly promoted junior commander who rose to power through flattery.

Cultivation resources?

Ha, it's already good enough that I can barely keep my cultivation level from dropping!

Those precious elixirs and spirit stones are always given priority to those with connections and who know how to scheme.

We are like disposable tools, dancing on the edge of a knife, each step fraught with danger, yet we don't even have the right to glance at the view from a higher vantage point.

Why...did it come to this?

Memories surged uncontrollably in my mind like a flood that had burst its banks.

Xiao Ba and I were born in a beautiful little village.

There was a big locust tree at the entrance of the village. In the summer, my parents would hold us and sit under the tree to cool off, telling us the stories of mountain spirits and monsters that we had heard countless times.

When I was six years old, an old man with a sage-like appearance and flowing robes passed through our village.

When he saw us brothers chasing and playing at the village entrance, his eyes lit up. He said that we had extraordinary potential and were one in a million, with limitless future achievements.

My parents were both surprised and delighted, and almost with tears in their eyes, they handed us over to this immortal master.

On the day of parting, Mother cried her eyes out, and Father, with red eyes, patted our shoulders hard: "Children, learn your skills well from the immortal master! When you've mastered them, come back and bring honor to your parents!"

We nodded vigorously, our hearts filled with anticipation for the future and a determination to repay our parents.

I followed my master into the deep mountains, where the practice was tedious and painful.

But we are not afraid. We have the purest motivation—to return home after completing our studies and give our parents a better life.

At twenty, we broke through the ninth level of the Acquired Realm, and were only one step away from the Innate Realm.

We can't wait to go home and visit.

But the master always shook his head, saying that the time was not right, the foundation was not stable, and the worldly influences would taint his Daoist heart.

We believed it and continued to diligently cultivate ourselves.

At the age of twenty-one, we finally stepped into the realm of innate beings!

Becoming a master of innate level means becoming a powerful figure in the mortal world!

This time, I sent the more mischievous Xiao Ba back secretly to give my parents a surprise.

Xiao Ba went there, filled with excitement.

But when he returned, his face was devoid of smiles, only ashen and filled with unbelievable fear.

The news he brought back was like a bolt from the blue, shattering all our hopes and beliefs.

The village... is gone.

More than a decade ago, not long after we left, we were slaughtered by a passing, otherworldly-looking cultivator!

Leave no one alive!

The reason? It's said that the cultivator needed a bit of "living soul" to practice his skills...

With an air of otherworldly grace... a cultivator...

A terrible thought, like a venomous snake, coiled around my heart.

I rushed to confront my master like a madman.

The master, who usually had a kind and gentle face and taught us that spiritual practice required single-mindedness and severing of worldly ties, merely glanced at me indifferently when I questioned him, his tone chillingly calm:

"Yes, I killed him."

boom--!

At that moment, I felt like my world had collapsed.

Cultivation, immortality, a promising future... it's all bullshit!

Our revered master, whom we treated like a god, was actually the executioner who slaughtered our entire family!

And we, foolishly, regarded him as our benefactor, diligently cultivated ourselves, and thought of bringing glory to our ancestors!

"Why? Why!!" I screamed, tears and snot streaming down my face, like a wounded wild beast.

"The path of spiritual practice is long and arduous. To reach the summit, one must naturally purify the six senses and not be burdened by worldly attachments."

The master's voice remained calm, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

"They are merely worldly ties that you need to sever on your path to immortality. I have severed them for you; you should thank me."

Thank you? Thank you for killing our parents?

Thank him for ruining our hometown?

Endless anger and self-blame, like magma, instantly devoured my reason!

it's me!

It's me and Xiao Ba!

If it weren't for our so-called "talent," if we hadn't left with him, how could the village have suffered such a calamity? How could our parents have died?

"I kill you!"

I went completely mad, recklessly channeling all my inner strength as I lunged at him!

Xiao Ba's eyes also reddened, and he followed closely behind.

Our master is at the second level of the Innate Realm, which is a small realm higher than ours.

But anger and despair give us boundless strength.

It was an extremely brutal battle, devoid of any skill, only the most primal and frenzied fighting!

We bit with our teeth, grabbed with our hands, and banged with our heads!

The cave was stained red with blood, and it was impossible to tell whose it was.

In the end, we won.

He killed his master, who had exhausted his true energy, with a move that was almost mutually destructive.

As he lay dying, he looked at us, his eyes filled not with resentment, but with a hint of… relief? He opened his mouth, blood trickling from the corner of his lips, and with difficulty uttered a few words:

"Excellent...excellent...show your master...a higher...view..."

We stood there, stunned, staring at our master's corpse. We felt no joy at having avenged our great enemy, only a desolate emptiness and a chill that seeped into our bones.

Later, we buried our master, and we also buried our past selves.

We were like two lost souls, wandering aimlessly through the world.

He worked as a laborer, a guard, and almost starved and froze to death.

Until one day, we heard the name "Shadow Pavilion".

An organization that claims to punish evildoers and maintain order.

It was as if I saw a glimmer of light in the darkness, even if that light was just an illusion.

A glimmer of hope rekindled within us; perhaps this place could become our refuge?

Perhaps we can find new meaning here?

We joined, becoming Shadow Seven and Shadow Eight.

But reality has once again delivered a resounding slap in the face. The so-called "punishing the wicked and eliminating evil" is nothing but a fig leaf. Here, it's even more nakedly brutal than outside—the law of the jungle prevails, and profit reigns supreme. We do the dirtiest and most exhausting work, receiving the fewest resources, like rats in a sewer, never seeing the light of day.

Five years have passed, and what have we gained? A body full of scars.

Hands covered in blood, and a despair with no future in sight.

And now, even this humble life is coming to an end.

Looking at the blade that the strong man at the eighth level of the Innate Realm raised, gleaming with a deadly cold light, I closed my eyes.

Tired, really tired.

Father, Mother, I'm sorry... Your unfilial son failed to avenge you, and instead has lived such a wretched life... In the end, I still have to come to see you...

Xiao Ba, I'm useless, I couldn't protect you...

That's it, this damn path of cultivation, this helpless life...

"Buzz—!"

Just as the blade was about to fall, a sharp whooshing sound suddenly rang out!

The sound wasn't loud, but it had a peculiar penetrating power, as if it resonated directly in the depths of one's soul!

The expected pain did not occur.

I suddenly opened my eyes.

There was a simple, black token stuck in the ground between me and the burly man, deeply embedded and unmoving!

On the token, there was only one ancient character, written with vigorous strokes, seemingly containing some kind of law—

"good".