Chapter 59 — The Third Awakening
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
At the mouth of Yincan Village, the village head, Old Master Huo, Deaf Grandpa, Blind Grandpa, and the rest stood staring blankly at the grand ceremony in the neighboring village, their hearts swelling in spite of themselves. Who could have imagined that the Nether Demon Cult, foremost of all the demonic sects, the illustrious Nether Demon Cult, would meet its future cult leader here in this poor backwater? A young cult leader not yet twelve years old? They had witnessed it with their own eyes, and it felt like watching a legend unfold; even the bright sunlight had turned strange and garish.
Granny Zhu suddenly burst into tears and choked out, "He will leave us. .
.
" "This is a good thing, Granny.
" The alchemist smiled gently. "A fledgling must grow up someday. It must fly out to see the wider world beyond, must battle the wind and waves, must leave home to witness the world's cruelty.
We cannot keep him forever at the side of us crippled old folk.
" Blind Grandpa's face was calm; he said unhurriedly, "A legend begins the moment he takes his first step out of the village. " The Silent Craftsman, smiling, gestured twice with an "ah, ah," and Deaf Grandpa laughed.
"You're right.
Shen'er's future is certain to be far richer and more varied than ours. " On the banks of the Surging River, one after another of the splendid, luxurious tower ships came sailing in and moored along the shore. Many villagers of the Heavenly Demon Village left the village in twos and threes; some trod the void and departed, some boarded the tower ships and sailed off, some transformed into strange beasts and slipped away into the mountain forests, some became firelight and flew off, and some escaped through the water. Each had his own peculiar skills.
Shen Mu watched, dazzled. Though he had defeated them at the spirit-embryo stage, he had none of these people's outlandish arts.
"Young Cult Leader, farewell! " A woman waved at him, then let her body topple backward into the river and became a splash of water that flowed off downstream.
Shen Mu waved back. He did not know whether they were good people or bad; he only knew that he had somehow become their young cult leader. When he walked out of the Wasteland one day, surely he would meet them again.
"For forty years our Holy Cult has infiltrated the Wasteland, searching for word of the cult leader's widow, and now at last our merit is complete. Brother Daoist, Cult Leader's Widow, you should know that for forty years our Holy Cult has never stirred, has had no cult leader to hold the scene, has lost its backbone — and now the Holy Cult stands in deadly peril. " The young Patriarch too rose to take his leave, saying to the village head, Granny Zhu, and the others, "Choosing a young cult leader now will steady people's hearts for a time, and no longer than that. The Imperial Preceptor Jingping casts a covetous eye on our Holy Cult and means to bend it to his use.
While I live, I can stall him a few years. So when the young cult leader comes of age, he must be made to leave the Wasteland and formally become the Holy Cult's cult leader. " The village head looked at Granny Zhu; Granny Zhu nodded and said, "Rest easy, Patriarch. I killed one Holy Cult leader, and I will surely give you another in return. When he comes of age he will go to the Holy Cult and take the reins of power, as you wish.
" The young Patriarch summoned the Punishment Elder, bowed to the assembly, turned and walked toward the Surging River. Old man and youth, in hempen clothes and straw sandals, leaning on their staffs, trod the river and drifted away. Blind Grandpa, both hands on his bamboo staff, sang out loud, his vast, desolate voice echoing back and forth across the banks of the Surging River.