Monarch Of Heavens Wrath - Chapter 320

“I’m not going to ask you why you’ve done what you did, this place makes that question so pointless that it’s almost comical. But if you have them, I will at least listen to your final words.”

Liang Chen held his spear somewhat loosely, the tip placed against the throat of a middle-aged man with a large frame, scars running across his entire face to give him a fearsome appearance. But there was no fearsomeness left in this man, he had been broken before Liang Chen even came to his doorstep.

Song Zhao, the sect leader of the Wyvern’s Wrath had been able to contend with Liang Chen for a good bit, it had been a dangerous fight. This man, Huo Laizen, was the leader of a sect that should be a little stronger than the Wyvern’s Wrath, but he was only able to contend with Liang Chen for two or three exchanges. Then again, thinking about the injuries he had suffered previously, perhaps being able to hold himself against Liang Chen for that long should be something to be proud of.

The two men locked eyes, one beaten to the ground while the other stood victoriously. But even though Liang Chen was the one who stood as the victor, he was the one that looked the weariest. Nearly 63 thousand disciples made this sect their home. And of all those people, only this one man now remained, this one battered man. There hadn’t been a single one, not a single person worth sparing. No matter where he looked, Liang Chen found only tragedy and violence, and the end of it was always death.

The further he travelled, the more of Purgatory he saw, the more drained he got. This was a place where humanity went to die, it wasn’t the cradle of Purgatory, it was the grave of morality and kindness. In other places you could believe in the good of man, good people would always be in the majority no matter what city he went to. But here there was only darkness, the only joy he saw in others was a twisted emotion born in carnage.

“I am the wrath of every man who’s been beaten down by the world, the wrath of those who have lost their heart along their journey. Wherever there is a child screaming because someone beat him up, there I am. Wherever a wife aims her sword at the one who killed her man, there I am. Wherever a man howls at the sky for justice, there I am. I am Huo Laizen, and I am the Wrath of Man. You may kill me here, but that wrath will never fade, it will merely live on in someone else, be it you or some random child five thousand years from now. And as such, mine is the wrath that will be eternal.”

Huo Laizen almost sputtered the words out, the hole torn clean through his left lung causing blood to rush up his throat with every breath he took. But contrary to his position, his gaze was still strong, the corners of his lips still turned up. He may die here, but so what? What he was, what he fought for, what he believed in, all of it would live on into the future. As long as there were humans, what he was would remain. He would die, but he was eternal, and in that, he was able to find pride.

“Then, goodbye, Huo Laizen.”

That was the only response Liang Chen mustered to the prideful declaration, a simple nod of his head and a slight extending of his arm. The spear ran through Huo Laizen’s throat and poison flooded his soul, death was practically instantaneous. Grand ambitions, dreams of justice, pride to pierce the heavens, just like all things, there would come a day where it simply came to an end, a day where it met a wall that didn’t crack. And today, Liang Chen was that wall for the Wrath of Man sect.

A soft light emerged from Liang Chen’s ċhėst as Huo Laizen died, three crimson droplets hovering in front of him. One of the droplets had lost its light and just hung there dimly while the two others shone brightly, a fourth in the process of forming next to them. And as Huo Laizen died, the fourth droplet finished forming, now releasing the same gleam as the two other bright ones. A new resonating sensation emerged in Liang Chen’s mind, Purgatory’s Cradle had deemed him worthy of a fourth reward.

“Jeez, really not an ounce of mercy. Most of the poor bastards didn’t even get the chance to leave their beds, you didn’t even let them try to fight for their lives.”

But of course, they hadn’t been shown all 63 thousand, there was no way they would be able to handle all that, they weren’t like Liang Chen after all. And whether it be because they hadn’t seen it all, or because they simply dėsɨrėd to believe, there were some who weren’t as pale as the rest.

“…I’m sure there were at least some who deserved mercy…One or two could definitely have been redeemed…”

It was a mutter so soft that it practically drifted away with the wind. Condemnation, hope, or just a vain dėsɨrė, it was a mutter whose emotions were hard to properly catch. The one who said it didn’t seem like he wanted others to hear it, but there was no way that Liang Chen would miss it, his head turning to the side as he pulled back his spear, the droplets sinking back into his ċhėst.

“You’re… Gang Po Dairen, right?”

Liang Chen’s gaze locked onto the disciple that had muttered, hidden amidst the other disciples. He was one of the first that Liang Chen freed back then, one of his shoulders had been gouged badly and his thɨġhs had both been shredded horribly. He couldn’t honestly say that he interacted a lot with all his disciples, but he at least made sure that he knew their names and stories.

The minute noises made by the other disciples instantly died down as Liang Chen spoke, a path almost automatically forming as the disciples stepped aside. Liang Chen and Gang Dairen’s eyes met, the somewhat gangly brown-eyed and soot-haired man quivering quietly as Liang Chen looked at him. His throat seemed to have suddenly dried up thanks to the attention so he could only nod to Liang Chen’s question, the words refusing to leave his throat.

“Those words, do you really believe them? Do you really believe that some of them deserved mercy, that they could be redeemed and become better people?”

Liang Chen’s voice was fairly low as he spoke, the sound of his feet moving across the grass almost louder than his words. He stopped only half a step away from Gang Dairen, the tip of his spear dragging across the ground. The two were about even in height, but Gang Dairen couldn’t help but feel like he shrunk as they stood face to face.

“Tell me. Do you really believe those words, do you really think you can take responsibility for them?”

Liang Chen didn’t let up, his gaze practically piercing into Dairen as he stood there, his words bȧrėly more than a whisper at this point. Gang Dairen’s shaking only got worse thanks to Liang Chen’s low voice, but the Storm Lord had asked a question, and he knew that lying was probably one of the dumbest things he could do. As such, he hardened his heart and prepared for the worst, returning Liang Chen’s gaze as he struggled to squeeze the words out from his dry mouth.

“I…Do. I can’t say that they were… good people, and I can’t…imagine what you saw. But in all those people, surely there was at least one or two that could have been saved, they could have become like us. That is what I want to believe.”

It was a bit hard at first, but he found that speaking got easier and easier as he progressed through it, as he hardened his determination and belief. He felt like he was facing certain death, but at least he would be doing so with a steadfast heart and by his own belief, there was a certain measure of freedom in that. But he contradicted his sect leader, a monster of a man, so he prepared himself for whatever may come. But to his surprise, the answer he got was a soft smile.

“Good. Grasp that belief tightly, hold it close to your ċhėst and fight for it with all your might. Follow it, take responsibility for it, grow for it. If you do then there may yet come a time when the world you dream of will become reality.”

Gang Dairen almost winced when Liang Chen’s hand landed on his shoulder, patting it reassuringly, almost somewhat proudly. Liang Chen turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping across the other disciples, drilling into each and every one of them as he spoke.

“The world you dream of, the future you hope to see, both of them can only be achieved by yourself. So if you believe in something, hold it tightly and fight for it, struggle to make that world a reality. There’s no need to look at others like me, who chose the easier path. If you believe in it, go for it, even if the road is thorny and heavy. Bear the responsibility of your choices and fight for the world you dream of, even if it means going against others.”

Liang Chen wasn’t trying to raise an army of clones, he wasn’t trying to turn all these disciples into people like him, just the one of him was already too much. The world they sought, the revenge they dėsɨrėd, the justice they believed in, that, not his own, was what he ultimately wanted them to seek.

“I told you back then, even if you are my disciples, my spear will come for you if you engage in the same acts as those I target. We may have some ties, but if you run counter to my path then I will target you all the same. But those words go both ways. If I run counter to your path, then I want you to come for me, I want you to have at least that much determination and belief in your path, okay?”

Hui Xin and the others had never seen someone proclaim that he hoped they would target him, and they had certainly never seen someone do it with a smile as soft as Liang Chen’s. His belief was strong enough for him to kill them, so he hoped that their belief would be strong enough to kill him, they were not words that should come from a sect leader.

But Liang Chen didn’t care, his gaze still roaming across the disciples. He wasn’t someone who usually tried to put pressure on people, but seeing Gang Dairen mutter his complaint so quietly he felt like seeing how deep his determination actually was. And as he did so, he felt like he was starting to understand exactly why the Nine Star Demon God had provoked him back when he took Yan Ling away to be the disciple of the Star God Sirius.