I am a living immortal.

Chapter 530: A future without Su Mu

In fact, there are many such cases every year. Most of them are young people, filled with passion and aware of the importance of life and death. Within the sect, as time passes, this has become a trend of thought. Many of the surviving members of that era support this view and encourage these people to go out.

Even if just one person survives, their impact far exceeds that of hundreds or even thousands who have successfully grown within the dojo. This is not just a disparity in strength, but also a disparity in thought and awareness. Without finding your own path, even the most numerous elixirs are but useless objects. Furthermore, without finding your own path, without discerning your true nature, how can you truly enter the Dao?

From ancient times to the present, following the rules has always been a safe bet. In peacetime, this is not wrong, and everyone has their own choices. But in these dire circumstances, humanity needs those who dare to confront and stand up to the challenge. The backbone of humanity needs them, supported by their unyielding spirits. They don't want to be penned pigs; they need wild wolves capable of ripping out the throats of their enemies. This is the essence of a legacy passed down from generation to generation.

Of course, there were also those who disagreed. Some argued that the resources within the dojo were already scarce, and that if they enjoyed them but died outside, wouldn't that mean they had wasted all that wasted, a waste of resources? Such voices were common, perhaps even representing the majority. A comfortable life had corrupted them. No one was willing to risk their lives for a future, at least not most. Their own cowardice made them feel inferior in the face of noble and unyielding souls, so they always found reasons to deny these people for self-soothing purposes.

But, to be honest, while many people share this sentiment, it doesn't have much influence. The dojo was built by the elders who experienced the war and therefore understand right from wrong. There's also another faction within this: those who have returned from training outside the dojo. These individuals hold the primary leadership role.

A dojo isn't like a country; it's more like a sect, where power reigns supreme. So even if many, perhaps even the majority, enjoy a comfortable life, they ultimately don't have much say. However, the dojo also respects individual wishes. Those willing to leave will receive more resources, while those unwilling to leave are not a major concern; they aren't the ones supporting the dojo.

The human race is a vast and complex group, unable to achieve everything as desired. All they can do is maintain a clear direction and prevent the spirit of the Dojo from drifting. Consequently, many have left the Dojo. Whether these individuals seek a new life, seek respect, or secure the resources that are available, regardless of their motivation, they are worthy of respect.

Upon hearing their responses, the Holy Lord bowed and said, "Good lords, have a safe journey." They returned the greeting, saying, "Thank you for your kind words." Without hesitation, they turned and left. There was no tragic drama, only unwavering determination. The Holy Lord watched silently.

"These people are the hope of humanity," a voice echoed in his ears. It belonged to an elderly man in a white robe, weathered and frosted, his temples graying, yet he stood tall and his eyes clear, unfazed. He had appeared beside the Saint Sovereign at some point and spoke.

"Yes, with them here, we can still stand tall even without this temple. They are like sparks in the dark night, weak but cannot be ignored. Perhaps, these sparks can really start a prairie fire." The Saint King said with emotion.

The old man glanced at the Saint Lord again. But the Saint Lord seemed oblivious. He knew who the other man was—the true backbone of the Dojo, a living legend, a sage of the human race. In his eyes, this man was the master of the Dojo. He had originally thought he would remain undetected, even though the other man didn't know his identity.

"Amazing technique." The Saint King praised.

"Who are you?" The old man didn't respond to the Saint Sovereign's praise. He couldn't see through this man, even with the support of the Daoist temple. Furthermore, the Saint Sovereign's aura made him feel dazed; it wasn't something that should exist in this world. He was curious; if he hadn't been able to monitor the entire Daoist temple, he wouldn't have noticed this person appearing out of nowhere. But he was certain that the other person had no ill intentions and was definitely not an innate deity. Instead, he felt a vague resemblance to a deity.

The Saint smiled and said, "You will know who I am when the time comes. I just came to take a look, but it is much better than I imagined."

Hearing the Saint's answer, the old man frowned. He didn't know what the man meant by these words, and in the end, he could only sigh. No matter who he was, at least he had no ill intentions.

"Did you do that cut?"

The Saint King nodded: "Someone prayed to me, so I took action. It's not just this one strike. You will see more strikes and more sparks. They will form a field and start a prairie fire." As he spoke, the Saint King nodded to the old man as a sign of respect, and then disappeared in front of the old man bit by bit.

The old man didn't try to stop the other man from leaving, nor could he. He had arrived silently, and he left just as quietly. He was truly a formidable figure. He felt the figure was familiar, but upon closer inspection, he couldn't place it. Perhaps it was a former teammate, or perhaps it was simply his aura. It seemed the world was becoming more uncertain.

The Sage King left. This tributary was more real than he had imagined. No, or rather, before the future was determined, this tributary was real. These characters existed in their own right, like projections, or altered versions. They shared the same personality and path as the one in this world, but their choices were different.

This world is truly fascinating. Perhaps I'll even run into an old friend. However, these tributaries differ in that they can't mimic beings like Su Mu. Or rather, the world can't observe or predict Su Mu, because Su Mu has become a self-contained loop. As long as Su Mu wants to, the world can't interact with her. So the main trunk is the main trunk, and the branches are the branches. The world can only try to blur the lines of existence like Su Mu as much as possible. The branches can only influence, but can never become, the main trunk.

So, this future actually doesn't involve Su Mu. Su Mu should exist, but perhaps only a fragment of text, a fleeting memory. He would say that if Su Mu had existed, things wouldn't be as bad as they are now. The Saint Monarch shook his head, left the dojo, and headed towards that chaotic world. In a trance, the morning sun rose towards him.