Reaper of the Martial World

Book 13: Chapter 10: Third Disciple

The First White Mother didn’t wait, shooting off into the distance. Even though she seemed to act like nothing more than a little girl just now, she was still an Immortal God, one a step away from the Peak Immortal God Realms, no less. The number of people who could threaten her on the Immortal Plane numbered in the tens.

Of course, the Ancestors didn’t care about who they saw as a little girl in their eyes. Even though they knew she was the reincarnation of the Ancestor Celestial Deer, even if she reawakened her memories right now, without some time, she wouldn’t be able to make waves without at least a few thousand years.

Plus, they had their own pride. They were already attacking Abraxus as one, if they also used a little gril to threaten him, then their dao hearts would be impacted and their lifespans would shorten.

This was actually where the true foundation of Karma came from.

‘You must hold on master, I’m sure senior brother has a plan.’

The innocent expression on the First White Mother’s face disappeared, replaced with the bearing one would expect from an expert of her level. Regardless, she was still an expert who had lived through billions of years. Beyond this, she had fought in a war that ravaged the Immortal Plane for much of that time as well. She wasn’t someone who could be underestimated.

Still the devastation she found when she finally regained her calm enough to check her surroundings and plan ahead left her pale.

On the Immortal Plane, the sort of discrimination that mortals experienced knew no bounds. Unless you were lucky enough to be born into a prestigious family, you were practically guaranteed to live a life of pain and suffering. And, in some cases, even if you were this lucky, those powerful families might very well just throw you out regardless of familial ties.

Many didn’t acknowledge the fact that Abraxus had a power of his own, and this was very much true. However, the reason behind this wasn’t because he had never taken anyone in. Rather, it could be said that among the Peak Immortal Gods, he had taken in the most.

It was just that … most of them were mortals.

Even if one were born a mortal on the Immortal Plane, becoming an Immortal wasn’t necessarily impossible. The trouble was that it was incredibly painful for them to just exist. Cultivating came with a whole other different level of pain. Just taking in qi might cause irreparable internal injuries that would leave your future prospects dim even if you managed to make a name for yourself.

A large majority of Abraxus’ people were like this.

However, not many dared to directly attack him. And, the reason for this wasn’t just because of Abraxus’ personal prowess either.

Just imagine for a moment what kind of strength a cultivator who suffered such pain all their lives would have? How firm would their dao hearts be? If they could manage to resolve the internal injuries they suffered as mortals… just what kind of existences would they be?

This was the true fearsomeness behind Abraxus’ power. There were very few amongst his people who managed to reach this height, but those who did put cultivators of the same tier to shame.

Over the years, Abraxus had raised many of these mortal experts. They were all monsters in their own right, experts no one dared to look down upon. Yet… They were being massacred. Not because of their inferiority, but because there were simply too few of them.

The First White Mother rushed forward faster and faster, leaving streaks of white in her wake as she tore through the air.

It was fine if warriors fell in battle, that she could still accept. But, their battles were indiscriminately causing the deaths of millions of mortals. They were no threat, they had no battle prowess of their own, why were you all fighting here?!

The First White Mother didn’t believe for a moment that Abraxus’ guard didn’t suggest breaking into the void to battle. It was impossible that they would battle here without a care. The only explanation was that these bastards from the Hegemons were forcing them to do so.

“Gilpin!” The First White Mother roared.

When she saw that conniving, bastard of an elf, her fury reached the pinnacle.

He stood above one of their Time and Space bubble world’s largest cities, battling with ten black armored guards at once with an expression of absolute ease. It was obvious that he could kill all ten of them whenever he wanted, but he chose to drag out their battle so that the residual destruction from their clashing blows could wreak more havoc.

“Oh?”

Gilpin looked over and smiled. As a high elf, he really was handsome beyond compare. Yet, his sinister actions were marred in a deep black aura that seemed to cake around him. Instead of being calm and inviting as one should be, he actually seemed quite sinister. His smile seemed genuine and friendly, but still made one’s heart tremble.

The agonizing screams of falling mortals and weaker Immortals sounded from the city below. How many could have reached the level of Immortal Law? So how could they flee through the skies?

They were forced to rush away on foot, but even in the case they successfully left the city gates… what could they possibly do about the elven army who surrounded them from all sides? Weren’t they finished?

In all these years, they had long since forgotten about the discrimination they felt as mortals. They somewhat took it for granted. Only a very small minority of them had the resolve to grow stronger and change their fates while the majority were content to rely on Abraxus.

However, for such a decision, they were reaping their ‘rewards’ in full now. Human beings were just like this… Just because one was oppressed, didn’t mean one was a good person with a strong heart. But, it was already too late for regret.

Still, despite knowing this, the First White Mother was filled with fury.

She shot forward. If she waited any longer, those ten who surrounded Gilpin would die before she could do anything. If she wasted anymore words, she would really be pushing them to their deaths.

Gilpin snickered. “You think there’s enough time for that? I was just playing around, but since you can’t take a joke…”

With a flick of his palm, two swords appeared in Gilpin’s hands. Each held an undisguised beauty. One was a silver that seemed carved of moonlight and the other was of gold metal that seemed plucked from the rays of the sun.

He took a step forward.

“Don’t you dare!” First White Mother growled.

However, it was already too late. The ten black armored guardians looked at once another with bitter smiles, but there wasn’t an ounce of regret or fear on their faces. If there was anything they wished for, it was more strength so that so many wouldn’t have died under their protection.

Each sword severed five heads. Gilpin flicked his wrists once more and rays of sword qi flashed, shattering ten nascent souls an instant later.

“You… Monster!”

Gilpin laughed as he turned to face the First White Mother.

“You’re still just as naïve as ever. People say that you’re the reincarnation of an expert, but why are you still such a child? I’m a monster for killing a few warriors in battle? Wouldn’t we all be monsters then? Can’t you think of something more clever?”

In truth, Gilpin wasn’t saying this just to say this. He really did find the First White Mother’s attitude to be quite ridiculous. He was certain that if he asked her what the names of the ten who just died were, she would stand blankly on the spot.

Crying out in bloody rage for people you didn’t even know? Wasn’t that the pinnacle of stupidity? How could she ever claim to be an expert when this was how she functioned? It really was all too ridiculous.

Despite this, the First White Mother’s rage hadn’t been dampened. And, despite the disdain in his words, Gilpin didn’t dare to take her lightly either. No matter how naïve she was, this was still the third disciple of that monster and the junior sister of that other monster. If Abraxus was really so casual with taking disciples, wouldn’t everyone be his disciple? Yet, he only took these three. This spoke volumes about their talent.

The First White Mother stretched out a palm to meet Gilpin’s swords. The result should have been obvious. Such a small, delicate palm meeting the blades of swords that had just taken the heads of ten Immortal Gods. A beauty should have fallen on that day. Yet…

BANG!

Gilpin was sent flying. He only vaguely felt an impact to his chest then his torso caved in and his heart shattered. He even felt that he was only a moment away from losing his life. Had it not been for the overwhelming vitality of Immortal Gods, he really would have fallen.

The First White Mother stood in the skies, her fury reaching the high heavens. Even the attacking Elven Army below couldn’t help but stop.

Unfortunately for them, she didn’t have the thought to spare them.

Her palms rained down like torrential storms, slaughtering hundreds of immortals with her every strike.

She was the Nameless Immortal God’s Junior Sister. She was the Time and Space Immortal God’s third disciple. Her fury wasn’t something others could casually contend with.

In the distance, Gipin, who had torn through several mountains, violently coughed up blood and weakly stood, his gaze practically spitting fire.

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