The Extreme Alchemist of the Mighty Cauldron
Chapter 1443 - Chapter 1443 Chapter 1541 The Scars of War

Chapter 1443: Chapter 1541: The Scars of War Chapter 1443: Chapter 1541: The Scars of War The great war between the two lands ultimately lasted for seven years.

In reality, by the fifth year, the outcome of the great war was nearly decided.

The Three Sects were powerless to continue, not only suffering heavy casualties in the direct confrontations with the Nine Countries but also losing many of their experts due to the intervention of the East Pole Heaven King, followed by Fang Lin and the havoc wreaked by the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

Originally, the Three Sects had sufficient strength to maintain the war between the two lands, but it was because of these many unexpected events that they became severely weakened in this crucial battle.

Especially since the woman in the black dress no longer intervened in the affairs of the Three Sects, leaving their high ranks without support; their confidence in the war gradually faded.

In contrast, although the Nine Countries were initially overwhelmed at the start of the war, as time passed, more and more experts emerged within the Nine Countries, and the situation started to develop in favor of the Nine Countries.

After seven years, the war between the two lands finally came to an end.

The people of the Three Sects withdrew back to the Seven Seas. Despite their resentment and bitterness, the war had ended, and to linger in the Nine Countries meant they might never return.

Although the Nine Countries had won, it was a pyrrhic victory at best; they could hardly speak of any triumph, for the Nine Countries merely managed to prevent the Three Sects from occupying their lands.

In this war that lasted seven years, countless people died, whether they were from the Nine Countries or the Three Sects. In the fiercest battlefields within the borders of Tang Country, corpses were piled up like mountains, one layer upon another, making the surrounding thousands of miles dense with the stench of death, virtually impossible for common folk to approach.

Some sacrificed themselves, while others rose to dominance, emerging from this war to become heroes that captured the attention of the masses.

Alas, those who survived were hailed as heroes, while those who perished were rewarded with nothing but a handful of earth; many others were left with no remains at all.

In Qing Nation’s Sword Pond Sect, the new Sect Master, Xuesheng, stood before the dried-up Sword Pond, holding an ancient longsword in his hand.

Sword Pond Sect was left with only Xuesheng and two others. The previous Sect Master, Xuesheng’s grandfather, had rushed to Tang Country with his old body to join the war at its inception, only to die in it.

Of the few dozen disciples that Sword Pond Sect originally had, only two survived that war.

Yet, even the two who survived were so gravely injured that their cultivation regressed, effectively rendering them half-crippled.

Xuesheng was young; he was only twenty-two years old seven years ago, and now he was just about to turn thirty.

Standing before the dried-up Sword Pond, Xuesheng’s face bore a reflective look, though not one of desolation or sorrow.

“Sect Master, have you ever blamed the old Sect Master?” Behind Xuesheng stood two men similar in age to him, the two surviving disciples of Sword Pond Sect, though their cultivation had regressed to the Heavenly Origin realm.

Xuesheng turned, looking at the only two men left in the sect, revealing a slight smile, “Why would I blame my grandfather? He entrusted Sword Pond Sect to me, so naturally, I must revitalize it. I cannot let Sword Pond Sect disappear on my watch.”

The two men exchanged a smile upon hearing this; one of them was missing half an arm, and the other suffered from an incurable internal injury, which left him perpetually pale.

Sword Pond Sect had already fallen into decay, and there were no resources or pills left to heal the two men’s injuries.

It could be said that apart from Sect Master Xuesheng, there were no other able-bodied people in the entire sect.

“We have become cripples and cannot offer much help to the Sect Master, but before we die, if the Sect Master has any commands, we will fulfill them with all our heart and strength,” the two surviving members of Sword Pond Sect knelt before Xuesheng.

Fang Lin swiftly helped the two men up and said, “Senior brothers, there’s no need for this.”

The three people inside Sword Pond Sect did not see that beyond the broken sect gate, a solitary figure was slowly ascending the mountain.

****

In the tranquil village, Zhao Xiaobao, who was around thirteen or fourteen years old, carried farm tools on his back as he walked home from the fields. Still a boy, he had already grown to nearly the height of an adult, strong and well-built, with a handsome face framed by thick brows and large eyes. He had caught the affectionate glances of several girls of the same age in the village.

When Zhao Xiaobao got home, he saw his mother, who had already grown white hair, and felt a sourness in his heart.

“Mom, I’m back,” Zhao Xiaobao called out, putting down the farm tools and promptly filling the water jar.

Zhao Xiaobao’s mother had already prepared the meal. Seeing him carrying water, she couldn’t help but show a look of relieved happiness.

However, her thoughts soon drifted to Zhao Xiaobao’s father, the man who had left the village with a longsword seven years earlier, never to return.

Zhao Xiaobao’s mother had been waiting for seven years and was still waiting, even though she knew the war outside had ended and it was very likely that her man had died out there. Yet she still hoped to see him return.

“Mom, you haven’t been feeling well lately, so don’t do any more chores around the house. I can handle it,” Zhao Xiaobao said as he held up his bowl.

“It’s okay, you work so hard in the fields every day. Eat more and gain more strength,” the woman spoke gently, her temples tinged with gray despite being only in her thirties, making her appear older than other women of her age.

Zhao Xiaobao looked at his mother’s thin face and felt even more upset. He harbored indistinct resentment towards his father, who had left and not returned. If his father hadn’t gone, why would his mother have to keep waiting, hoping day and night? Now with no news of him alive nor his body found dead, who knows where his father had gone and whether he was still in this world?

After dinner, Zhao Xiaobao began to clean up the bowls and utensils but then saw a group of people approaching from outside.

“What’s going on?” Zhao Xiaobao and his mother stepped outside, only to see many villagers escorting a man to their front.

Both Zhao Xiaobao and his mother were puzzled. What was happening?

The man surrounded by the villagers was middle-aged, looking weary from travel, with a long, rod-shaped object strapped to his back, tightly wrapped in black cloth.

“This is Zhao Tiesheng’s son and daughter-in-law,” a villager pointed out Zhao Xiaobao and his mother.

The middle-aged man glanced at Zhao Xiaobao and his mother, giving Zhao Xiaobao an extra scrutinizing look, then his expression turned complex.

“I am a friend of Zhao Tiesheng,” the middle-aged man finally spoke.

At these words, Zhao Xiaobao’s mother quickly displayed a look of hopeful anticipation, her voice slightly excited, “You are my husband’s friend? Is he coming home soon?”

“He’s dead. Before he died, he asked me to return this to you,” the middle-aged man gritted his teeth, ultimately delivering this cruel news. He then took off the object he was carrying and handed it to the woman, who had become frozen in shock.

The woman unwrapped the black cloth to reveal a longsword, stained with blood.

Holding the longsword, the woman sat on the ground, crying out her husband’s name with a hoarse voice. Yet separated by life and death, no matter how much she called, her husband could never respond again.

ps: Here comes the second update, continue typing.