I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

Duan Lang continued speaking at a leisurely pace.

"Sectarian infighting leads to sect leaders committing suicide. Top experts form alliances today and turn against each other tomorrow. Internal strife consumes seventy percent of their strength, leaving only thirty percent to fight external enemies—naturally resulting in repeated defeats."

He gently placed the teacup back on the table.

Raise your eyes and look directly at Xiao Sanxiao.

"Senior Xiao understands this better than anyone else."

Xiao Sanxiao remained silent.

His smile was still on his face, but something deep in his eyes tightened slightly.

Duan Lang didn't give him a chance to respond.

"I've heard that Senior Xiao possesses a unique skill—"

Duan Lang's voice continued unhurriedly, without sarcasm, but straight, like a thin knife so precise that it didn't cut away any excess flesh.

"Every hundred years, the illusion of the 'Twelve Fears' is created in people's hearts."

"We specifically target those ambitious and scheming martial arts heroes."

"Force them into chaos, and let them disappear on their own."

He paused for a moment.

"Is that right?"

The wind at the edge of the cliff suddenly picked up.

Xiao Sanxiao placed the teacup back on the table with a very soft clinking sound.

He did not deny it.

For four thousand three hundred years, he has meticulously woven a vast net—

The "Twelve Fears"—which were regarded by the martial arts world as divine punishment, destiny, and an inescapable force—

A junior colleague, sitting at his own doorstep drinking tea, completely dismantled his reputation with just a few words.

Xiao Sanxiao's fingers paused slightly on the edge of the table.

"That is indeed true."

He replied, his voice a fraction lower than before.

"And what was the result?"

Duan Lang spoke calmly, yet he pressed closer step by step.

"One is eliminated, another emerges. Every year there are warlords, and the Central Plains martial arts world is embroiled in internal strife. Every few decades, it cycles through periods of weakness and never truly becomes powerful—"

He paused for a moment, then his gaze, sharp as a thin blade, sliced ​​down without the slightest fluctuation.

"Even if the Japanese hadn't come, the blood of the martial arts world's higher-ups had already been almost entirely shed."

The wind howled at the edge of the cliff.

"For the past four thousand years, our predecessors have planned, orchestrated, and self-righteously claimed the greatest credit every year."

Duan Lang's voice contained no harsh accusations, yet it was more insidious than any accusation.

"But is the foundation of the Central Plains martial arts world any stronger because of this?"

Xiao Sanxiao pursed her lips and remained silent.

That's a very direct and accurate statement.

So much so that even a seasoned veteran like him couldn't find a word to refute it.

He had thought about these things.

Throughout his four thousand years of history, how could he not know that this approach only addresses the symptoms, not the root cause?

Eliminating a tyrant will only lead to the rise of another hero.

Suppressing one group of rebels will only lead to the emergence of another powerful clan.

The chives were harvested again and again, but they never truly enriched the soil beneath our feet.

However, the world situation is like a tangled mess that can never be untangled. As a lone immortal who has to hide behind the scenes, he can only rely on these patchwork methods to barely maintain the balance.

Just as he was considering how to respond, Duan Lang spoke up again.

His tone remained calm, but it carried a sharper edge.

"Senior Xiao came to the Outer Heavens today, saying he wanted to resolve the great calamity of a thousand years. His words were righteous and awe-inspiring, which moved people deeply."

He paused.

"But in my opinion, if Senior Laugh is truly worried about this calamity, instead of traveling thousands of miles to the Outer Heavens to persuade him, he would do something much easier—"

As the words trailed off, Xiao Sanxiao, who was pondering how to refute the "internal strife theory," frowned slightly upon hearing this.

He racked his brains but couldn't think of anything that could avert the great calamity, something that would be "easier" than persuading Duan Lang.

"What is it?"

He looked up, glanced across at the person opposite him, and asked a question following the conversation.

There was a hint of undisguised doubt in his tone.

Duan Lang picked up his teacup, brushed away the tea foam, and casually took a sip.

Then, he gently tapped the teacup back on the table and casually concluded his sentence:

"Go to Japan and kill your two sons with my own hands."

The tea smoke curls gently, and the mountain breeze is caressing the air.

Duan Lang's voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a hammer blow.

"With these two pillars gone, the strength of the Japanese martial arts world will naturally be greatly diminished, making their invasion less confident. Wouldn't that be more direct than just drinking tea here?"

Xiao Sanxiao sat there, without moving.

The words I was just thinking about how to refute were now completely gone.

That last sentence completely shattered everything.

Her two sons.

Japan.

This……

This is a secret.

It was a secret he believed was buried deeper than anything else, a secret he had never revealed a single word of even to his closest confidants—

He has blood relatives in Japan. He is the Great Demon God and the Chief. His two sons each occupy a region and are influential figures in the Japanese martial arts world.

If even the slightest bit of these secrets were leaked, his lifelong carefully cultivated image as a "savior of the world" would be completely destroyed.

However, Duan Lang, holding his teacup, spoke about it in a tone no different from discussing the weather.

At that moment, Xiao Sanxiao gave Duan Lang a deep look.

For the first time, the composure accumulated over four thousand years was gone from those eyes.

a long time.

He slowly withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, looked at the cup of tea in his hand that had long since gone cold, and sighed silently.

"Alliance Leader Duan is right."

His voice was much lower than before.

That usual playful and condescending attitude has vanished without a trace, replaced by a sense of vicissitude and reality.

"Those two children, it's my fault."

He placed the herbal tea back on the table, slightly tightened his fingers, and stared at the tabletop without focusing.

"I was not by Yueyu's side when she died."

"When I return, all that will be left is a lonely grave."

"And my two sons who refuse to even look at me anymore."

He paused, then gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

It wasn't like laughter; it was more like a kind of bitterness that had nowhere to go.

"We can't blame anyone else for how things have turned out this way."

"It's all my fault back then..."

The wind blowing from the cliff edge brushed her frosty white hair to one side.

After a moment of silence, Duan Lang's voice came from the other side.

The tone softened slightly compared to the previous relentless pressure.

"Senior Xiao, there's no need for that."

"This leader of the alliance is also a father."

"No father could be so heartless as to kill his own flesh and blood."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Chen, who had been sitting quietly drinking tea to the side, suddenly paused slightly in the hand holding the teacup.

No father can kill his own flesh and blood.

Duan Lang's words were resolute and in line with the common sense of human relationships in this world.

But in Jiang Chen's mind, an image flashed uncontrollably—

That was a near-cruel predicament that Nie Feng faced in the original course of events.

On one side is Senior Brother Yun, whose life is hanging by a thread.

On one hand, there's the fate of his own biological daughter.

The Wind God, who was always gentle, kind, and benevolent, ultimately gave the only Dragon Essence that could save his life to Bu Jingyun.

He watched helplessly as his own daughter died.

Looking at it from another perspective, isn't it also like killing one's own flesh and blood?

Jiang Chen lowered his eyes, looking at the amber reflection in the cup, a complex glint flashing in his eyes.

In this world, there are always those who, for the sake of what they call righteousness, are willing to abandon even their own mothers and flesh and blood.

Xiao Sanxiao was naturally unaware of the turmoil in the heart of the white-clad youth beside him.

Duan Lang's silent words echoed at the edge of the cliff.

There was no unnecessary embellishment or deliberate attempt to comfort him.

It's like a stone that was just scorching hot but has now been cooled by the wind, pressing down on it with neither too much nor too little force.

Surprisingly, it brought a sense of relief.

Xiao Sanxiao raised his eyes, lingered for a moment on Duan Lang's young profile, and then looked away.

He didn't say anything.

He simply reached out and took the gourd from the table, uncorked it, and, disregarding any semblance of an expert image, gulped down a large mouthful of wine.

It was as if by using this action, he swallowed down the momentary loss of composure, along with the bitterness.

The edge of the cliff returned to calm, with only the sound of the wind and the swirling clouds remaining, creating a more genuine sense of tranquility than the tense atmosphere just moments before.

Just then, Duan Lang spoke.

"Please wait a moment, Senior Xiao."

Xiao Sanxiao looked over and asked, "What's wrong?"

"There is one more guest."

Duan Lang said calmly, his gaze returning to the vast sea of ​​clouds beyond the cliff.

"We're almost there."

Xiao Sanxiao blinked, a hint of surprise flashing across his old face.

He glanced around to the left and right.

Apart from them and a few maids waiting in the distance, there wasn't a soul in sight.

"Are there more guests?"

He frowned, and subconsciously wanted to use his divine sense to explore the area below the mountain.

The thought had barely formed when he suddenly recalled the mouthful of blood he had spat into the snow before climbing the mountain.

His eye twitched, and he forcefully suppressed the urge to find out more.

"Who is it?" he could only ask.

"wait!"

Seeing Duan Lang's calm and composed demeanor, Xiao Sanxiao had no choice but to swallow all his scheming.

Since the master of this outer heaven has said to wait, then we can only wait obediently.

The time it takes to drink a cup of tea is neither too long nor too short.

Beside the pillar, a maid walked lightly over, bowed, and spoke in a respectful and steady voice.

"We hereby announce to Alliance Leader Xu that Senior Xu has arrived."

Footsteps came from deep within the corridor.

Unhurriedly, each step on the stone slab produced a crisp echo.

The newcomer was a Taoist priest, dressed in a simple Taoist robe, with a composed demeanor.

His face showed little sign of aging, as if time had never left any trace on it.

Xiao Sanxiao only glanced at it—

He recognized that face.

Indra!

A sharp glint flashed quickly in the depths of Xiao Sanxiao's eyes.

However, a problem arises.

Wasn't Indra dead?

Everyone in the martial arts world says that Emperor Shitian perished in the battle at Tianmen.

He calculated with his own fingers and also figured out the signs that the Heavenly Gate's fortunes would suddenly dissipate after that great change.

But the sudden dissipation of life force does not mean death—it only means the end of that karmic connection.

He didn't analyze it in detail at the time, simply thinking that this calamity was over and there was no need to worry about it anymore.

Looking back now...

That old bastard didn't die.

Not only did he not die, he's alive and well.

Wearing a clean Taoist robe, he walked out of the corridor with a calm and composed demeanor, exuding an air of otherworldly elegance.

Xiao Sanxiao's lips curved slightly without him noticing.

Xu Fu walked out of the corridor, his gaze immediately falling on Duan Lang.

He nodded slightly, clasped his hands together in front of his chest, and performed a proper bow.

"Leader of the Alliance."

His voice was steady and calm, carrying with it the detachment of someone who had transcended worldly affairs.

"I received a message from the Alliance Leader via carrier pigeon and set off immediately, but I am a step late."