Nine Venoms Sect Founder

The burly youth glanced at the mess of gore, then back at the bald cultivator, and scratched his head in nervousness. Awkwardness instead of genuine dread marked his face. Though he clearly feared the bald cultivator, it hadn't reached the point where he'd lose his mind to the sensation. Desperate to preserve their son's life, his parents crawled toward the bald cultivator.

"Immortal, please have mercy! The boy was born a half-wit and barely understands basic courtesy. To say nothing of human relationships, even the simplest of tasks take him weeks to master. How could he understand the situation? Please have mercy!" The father begged, and alongside his wife, kowtowed to no end. The bald cultivator's eyes didn't leave the teenager's confused gaze. On the contrary, the more he stared into the boy's brown eyes, the more interested he became.

"Have no fear. I am not a barbaric man. If the boy is merely mentally challenged, I will of course not cause him trouble," the cultivator dismissed the parents' fears. Coming from someone that just slapped a youth's head off, such words couldn't satisfy anyone. But besides accepting them, what other choices did they have?

As he scratched his head, the youth's awkwardness grew more pronounced, but realizing he had to give an answer, he weighed his words as carefully as he could, and replied:

"Since I could understand the world around me, I was told that kneeling is a part of a son's routine. You must kneel to your parents because they gave birth to you, fed you, and prepare you to become a productive member of society. But at the same time, you learn that age is no excuse to not kneel before officials, aristocrats and the king. As the lowest-ranked citizen, child, son and subject, kneeling is your routine. That's when I realized that we kneel to our parents to show them deference and remind ourselves of the obedience we owe them. It's a superior versus inferior clash," the "mentally challenged" teen started, making the bald cultivator and Harun's eyes widen in expectation.

"But even in that show of submission, there is a hierarchy. Kneeling is so complicated. Before an official, you cannot kneel to your parents. Before a high-ranking aristocrat, you cannot kneel to an official. Before a prince, you cannot kneel to aristocrats, and before the king, you kneel only to the king. But here we are, surrounded by hundreds, all of unknown backgrounds. Who and where are the officials, aristocrats, princes and king? And sir, if I may, who are you? I do not mind kneeling, I just need to understand where you stand in this hierarchy of bended knees. My parents and I are new to this city, just trying our luck to collect some water. If I kneel to the wrong person at the wrong time, am I not endangering us all? Who knows, the king might just be around the corner, ready to take offense," the burly man said in a humble tone.

As his words poured out, his parents broke into cold sweat, and tears drenched their faces. In contrast, the bald cultivator's eyes sparkled as if he'd stumbled on a priceless jewel. An eerie glint flashed in his gaze, His lips curved into a bright smile, and as the scholarly youth's parents still wept on their son's corpse, the cultivator waved his hand, making the unnecessary trio fly far, far away.

"I am a cultivator, more precisely, a Dream Seer. Far above your king, comparable to celestials and deities." Alarmed, the burly youth attempted to drop on his knees, but the cultivator stopped the move, and while lifting him up, asked, "Boy, are you willing to follow me onto the path of enlightenment, to break free from falsehood and pursue the Truth?"

"I'm confused. If all you seek is enlightenment, what do you need me to kneel for?" The teen seriously asked. Though he stood over 1.85 meters tall, he'd just turned 16, and didn't have much experience in such matters.

"It was merely a test. Some wear the cloth yet do not have the heart, while the truly gifted live in darkness and vanish without the chance to probe their potential. I believe you are most suited for the Dream Seer path. Just say the world, and a whole new world shall open to you," the bald seer said. The Truth Scrying Grotto and its branches carefully picked their disciples. The 99 years of mandatory study only represented the final line. Unbeknown to him, the teen had passed the first test, and qualified with flying colors for the second part: The Grind.

However, he first glanced at his parents, then back at the Dream Seer, "I have two questions. What is the Truth?" He asked, but the Dream Seer shook his head.

"I do not know."

"You are asking me to follow you onto a road whose end you cannot even picture?"

"Correct. And I suppose that wasn't your second question?"

"Right, what about my relatives?"

"On the path to enlightenment, human bounds are tools for learning and self-introspection, not something you can cling on. Don't worry, bonds are fickle. After you reach the Canonized Soul Realm, it will get easier," the Dream Seer explained. But at that time, golden clouds formed in the burning sky, dazzling rays poured out, and in a column of radiant light, a man descended.

Dressed in a black monastic robe, the man stopped eight meters above the Dream Seer, arms crossed behind his back, with an ethereal fog hiding his face. All that glanced at him felt as if a Spiritual God had descended from the highest layer of Heaven to grace the world and bestow salvation. The man stretched out his right hand, seriousness replaced the Dream Seer's leisurely look, and he locked his senses on that intruder, believing himself the target.

But as all eyes focused on him, irresistible suction forces surged from the divine man's palm, wrapping the teenaged boy, and hurling him into the sky!

"Stop this at once!" The Dream Seer roared, and driven by a transcendent force, the booming words paralyzed all that heard them—one step too late. By the time the Dream Seer made his move, the godlike expert had grabbed the prized teen by the collar, and riding a golden cloud, vanished in the horizon—his thunderous laughter rocked the Dark Stone Capital.

Undeterred, the Dream Seer took flight, rushing after Harun.

Meanwhile, Jiyan, who'd remained in the carriage, observed it all with an incredulous look. Her eyes darted between Harun, whose true body stayed in a trance by her side, and the avatar he condensed with his Spiritual Incense.

"He really grabbed him. Just like that? At least buy the man dinner first," she said. Only with Harun could such jaw-dropping scenes succeed one another. And knowing that the Plague Overlord had a plan to carry out, Jiyan observed from a distance, but kept her senses pinned on the confrontation.

…

"Aaahahahaaah!" Meanwhile, the poor lad was losing it. And who could blame him? One moment he was still having a civil conversation, the next, a golden-cloud riding man grabbed him by the collar, taking him to heaven knows where. Still, the teen didn't despair, didn't thrash against Harun, and pulled in a deep breath to first regain his composure.

"Yo Birandar, congratulations. You've just snatched the incomparable honor of becoming my number one disciple. Happy?" Harun asked in a jovial tone.

But more confused than anything, Briandar narrowed his eyes at his wannabe master, and asked:

"How do you know my name?"

"I know everything. But that's not relevant. Our Master-disciple fate can't kick in yet. Your Fate Standard is as shitty as it gets, and left unchecked, you're heading straight for a catastrophe. So…" Harun paused. Purple mist surged from his right eye and wrapped Birandar in an amethyst halo.

"I will make one exception and give you a second chance. Let's hope you will prove my investment and sufferings the correct choice. From now on, you'll experience waves upon waves of adversity. But regardless of how low you fall, remember to sing this mantra:

'Undisturbed I am, Undisturbed is my soul.'" Harun stopped here, spun 360, and hurled Birandar into the distance. The youth became a shooting star that raced across the First Range to crash in an unknown location.

This time, the poor lad couldn't stop himself from screaming. Of course, Harun ignored all of it, and turned to face his foe.

"Reverend Weeping Soul, don't you feel ashamed cheating a clueless lad out of his life?" Harun held one hand on either side of his hips, and said in a leisurely tone.