Chapter 99: Can this end already?!

The Hall Leader did not answer immediately. He took the envelope from the disciple's trembling hands, waving him away. "Get out," he ordered sharply, and the disciple wasted no time in fleeing the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

The tension in the room reached its peak. The elder with the white beard leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Who do you think offended the Court?" he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper, as though speaking the words aloud might invoke some unseen wrath.

"It doesn't matter," another elder said, his voice laced with bitterness. "The Hall of Nine Walls will always do as the Court orders." He cast a sidelong glance at the Sect Leader, as though waiting for him to open the envelope and reveal their fate.

The Hall Leader, his hands trembling slightly, broke the golden seal and slowly unfolded the letter inside. As his eyes scanned the contents, his face darkened, and the blood drained from his face.

The letter contained only two characters.

"DAO WEI."

Silence fell over the room. The elders exchanged confused looks.

"Dao Wei? Who is Dao Wei?" one of the elders sneered. "I've never heard of such a name. Is this a mistake?" His voice carried a note of disbelief, as though the idea of an unknown name commanding such importance was absurd.

The Hall Leader's expression remained grim. He knew exactly what the red letter meant, and the weight of the characters inside was enough to freeze his blood. The Red Letter was an official License to Kill, issued directly by the Court of Damnation. It was not issued lightly, nor was it ever questioned. When the Court issued a Red Letter, it was a death sentence, and all who received the order were bound to carry it out.

The Court of Damnation rarely intervened in the mortal world, but when it did, the target was always of immense importance—whether they were a threat or held the potential to disrupt the balance of power. Dao Wei had now become the object of their interest, and the Hall of Nine Walls had been chosen to carry out the execution.

The elder with the white beard narrowed his eyes, processing the information. "The Red Letter is not something given lightly. Whoever this Dao Wei is, the Court sees him as a threat."

Before anyone could respond, a message talisman flew through the air, carried by a thin wisp of smoke. One of the elders caught it and channeled his energy into it, revealing a flash of light that projected a message in midair.

"Hahaha!" the elder who caught the talisman laughed aloud. "Yafei finally sent a message!" His laughter filled the room as he read the message, but as the words materialized, his expression faltered.

'A new Sword Childe of the Sword God Sect has risen from the Shura World, a fifteen-year-old demon known as Dao Wei. He shattered our plans by humiliating my disciple, Cheng Fang. I request your aid in dealing with him.'

The room went deathly quiet.

The Hall Leader, who had remained silent until now, clenched his fists. His eyes blazed with fury. "So, Yafei failed," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "And now he dares to beg for our help after his incompetence?"

One of the elders, a man named Zhao, spoke up hesitantly. "Wait… did he say the name of the new Heir is Dao Wei?" The elder's eyes flickered as realization dawned on him. "That's the same name on the Red Letter…"

The Hall Leader's face twisted into a cruel smile. "It seems we don't have to go far to find our target after all." His voice was calm, yet there was a predatory gleam in his eyes.

The other elders exchanged looks of understanding. Dao Wei, the new Sword Childe, had unknowingly painted a target on his back. Not only had he become a nuisance to Elder Chu Yafei, but now, he had attracted the attention of the Court of Damnation.

"Yafei will pay for failing us," Zhao growled, his eyes flashing with anger.

The Hall Leader shook his head. "Not yet. The mission is more important. We have been given a Red Letter. If we fail to carry out the Court's orders, we will all face the consequences."

The room fell silent once again as the gravity of the situation sank in. The five elders began to deliberate, their voices low and filled with intensity. They would plan their next move carefully, for failure was not an option.

Outside the pavilion, the mountain winds howled, carrying with them the ominous promise of death. The Hall of Nine Walls had been summoned, and soon, all eyes would turn to the Sword God Sect. A storm was brewing, and at the center of it all was a young man named Dao Wei—a name that now carried the weight of life and death.

Back at the Sword God Sect, Dao Wei turned his gaze upward, watching as the Silver Eagle vanished into the horizon. He knew that this was only the beginning. The title of Sword Childe was a beacon that would draw both admiration and envy, support and hostility.

But Dao Wei was unbothered. He had faced greater threats, and this, too, would be just another challenge on his path to greatness.

Huang Ling, still blushing, was in her own fantasy land. Zhang Ruolan, ever the quiet observer, simply smiled. She could feel the tides of change in the air. Dao Wei's rise was no accident—this was destiny unfolding before their very eyes.

The sun hung high in the azure sky, casting golden beams over the Sword God Sect's Grand Arena. It was a day unlike any other, a momentous occasion that would be etched in the sect's history for generations to come. The grand arena was packed to the brim, with thousands of disciples filling the seats, their excited voices creating a cacophony that echoed through the towering mountains surrounding the sect.

"Sword Childe!"

"Young Elder!"

"Millennial Genius!"

The chants of the crowd reverberated like thunder as Dao Wei stood at the center of it all. He stood atop a grand podium carved from the purest white jade, the sunlight reflecting off the surface, making him appear almost ethereal. His expression, however, did not match the enthusiasm of the crowd. He looked indifferent, almost bored, as though this was just another day to endure rather than a monumental event.

Around him, banners bearing the Sword God Sect's emblem, a majestic sword surrounded by divine clouds, fluttered in the wind. The energy in the air was electric as if the very heavens were acknowledging the significance of this moment. Today, the Sword God Sect, one of the most prestigious martial sects in all the realms, had officially crowned its new Heir—the Sword Childe, Dao Wei.

In the center of the arena, the Supreme Elder, Jiang Feng, a towering figure both in stature and reputation, stood proudly before the masses. His long, silver beard swayed gently in the breeze, and his eyes, sharp yet kind, surveyed the disciples with the wisdom of centuries. His presence alone commanded respect, and as he raised his hand to signal for silence, the entire arena fell quiet, save for the occasional rustle of robes and the fluttering of banners.

"And on this day," Jiang Feng began, his deep voice carrying easily across the arena. "It shall be known that our Sword God Sect finally has an Heir, one who has proven his worth through a sheer demonstration of power."

But before the Supreme Elder could continue, the disciples erupted into wild cheers once more. The words 'Sword Childe' echoed through the mountains, the excitement of the sect palpable. This was a day of pride not just for Dao Wei, but for every member of the Sword God Sect. After years of waiting, a successor had emerged, one who had demonstrated unparalleled skill, intellect, and strength.

Dao Wei, standing slightly to the side of the podium, tried to suppress a sigh. His eyes scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces—some full of awe, others with envy. But he felt little of the gravity they attributed to this moment. For him, this was just another milestone on the long and treacherous path he had set for himself. He wasn't here for glory or adoration. He was here for something far more personal.

As the cheers continued, Dao Wei's gaze turned to the Supreme Elder, who now watched him with a knowing smile. Jiang Feng had seen many promising disciples rise and fall throughout his long life, but he knew Dao Wei was different. There was something about the young man—an indomitable will that even the harshest trials couldn't break. Still, Jiang Feng couldn't help but be amused by the contrast between the joyous disciples and the dispassionate Sword Childe. Dao Wei was counting down the moments, eager to escape this spectacle.

The Supreme Elder raised his hand once more, and silence befell the arena again. This time, the quiet was more reverent, the disciples eager to hear the rest of his words.

"It is an honor for our sect to witness this day," Jiang Feng continued, his voice solemn yet filled with pride. "In Dao Wei, we have found not just a Sword Childe, but a beacon of our future. His strength and talent are without question, but what sets him apart is his unwavering resolve, and his ability to adapt and overcome. In the face of adversity, he has not wavered."