Chapter 106 A Graveyard In The Southern Wilderness

There was a grave in the Southern Wilderness.

No guests buried.

No burial, no return.

The Southern Wilderness was desolate.

But there was a group of people living there.

The Central Plains called them barbarians, and they called the outsiders of the Central Plains.

They lived by hunting nomads, worshiped their ancient gods, and lived a life that had not changed for thousands of years.

Similarly, the seemingly loose tribal life had a common royal court.

The change of power in the royal court never ceased.

The new king replaced the old king from time to time. Compared to the bizarre situation in the Central Plains Power Center, the change of power in the Southern Desolate Royal Court was even more bloody and straightforward.

The new king killed the old king, seized the bone whip that was said to have been forged from the back of the last true dragon in the world, and then enjoyed the fruit that all the people loved.

But no matter how violent and bloodthirsty the rulers of each generation were.

The tomb that stood in the depths of the Southern Wilderness was always the forbidden area in the hearts of every king.

It was a song that every child in the Southern Wilderness would sing.

There was a grave in the Southern Wilderness.

No guests buried.

No burial, no return.

The sword was buried there, but the rules were followed.

At this moment, he was in a thatched cottage right in front of the tomb.

An old man with a sword-browed star was sitting cross-legged. His face was resolute. Although snow had already appeared on the black silk in front of his forehead, there were no wrinkles on his face. The so-called crane-haired child's face was basically what he said.

At this time, the door of the straw house was pushed open from the outside.

The hoarse sound was especially clear in the silent grave.

The man opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the door.

A black-clothed man slowly walked in. The man carried a long sword on his back and his waist was straight. Even though he stood there without any sword intent leaking out, he still looked so outstanding.

Even without the sword behind his back, an ordinary person could tell that he was a swordsman.

It was as if he was born with a sword.

Straight and resolute. Better fold than bend.

"How are you recovering from your injuries?" The old man in the room asked.

The man with the sword on his back smiled.

"His internal breath is stable, and his internal organs are suppressed by sword intent. He should be able to live another seven to eight months."

The old man's eyes trembled and his voice became somewhat dry. He sized up the man's attire and finally asked.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes." The man nodded. "I'm afraid that Mo Chen Zi won't have the chance to meet Senior Brother again. I'll entrust this Sword Mausoleum to Senior Brother."

"The sword intent of the Mausoleum of the Sword is abundant, flowing endlessly. If you can recover peacefully and have the blessing of the sword intent, it won't be difficult for you to live for another year and a half" the old man said at that time.

But before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the man.

"No way. I've been alone in the Mausoleum of the Swords for 60 years. It doesn't matter if I'm one more year or less. I've been guarding it for 60 years, and Mo Chen Zi wants to live for himself for the rest of his life."

Hearing this, the old man fell silent for a while before stopping his thoughts of continuing to persuade him. Instead, he asked, "Then where are you going?"

"Seeing her, find another gravekeeper to take my place." The man said in a deep voice.

"She? Ghost Subhuti? You still can't forget her?" The old man frowned.

"I'm not a heartless guest. How can I forget my lover? She has fallen into such a state because of me. Now that I'm here, I still have to meet her and give her an explanation." The man's tone was extremely calm. He could not hear the slightest hesitation or sorrow that a dying person deserved.

"Do you regret it?" The old man asked.

"Right now, I don't dare to say anything regretful." The man's response was just like the sword dao he cultivated. It was so rigid that it was almost stubborn, so stubborn that it was almost heartless.

"Sigh, the three of us are the calmest of us. If we follow the temper of the ocean currents …" The old man said, his eyes shining with a deep light, as if he had fallen into some memories.

"Junior apprentice-brother has his own way of living, senior apprentice-brother has his own way of living, and I also have my own way of living. It's not about right or wrong, it's just about my heart." The man interrupted the old man, seemingly unwilling to dwell on something from the past.

"Yes." The old man clearly saw through it. He nodded and didn't say anything more about it. "What about after that? Where are you going to find the gravekeeper? Or is it the seed left behind by the current?"

"Junior Brother's temperament is very clear. How could the person he chose be willing to live in this Sword Mausoleum alone for a hundred years?" The man smiled when he heard this, as if he was thinking of his junior brother, who had died a long time ago. "In July and August, I think if I have the fate, I should be able to meet someone I like. At that time, I will inherit from him. When the opportunity matures, he will come here. Senior Brother, please take care of him at that time."

The old man looked at the man silently for a long time, then he told him to stay and swallowed it again and again.

"The Sword Mausoleum is lonely. I've been waiting for sixty years."

"It's been hard."

When the man heard this, he knew that it was time to say goodbye.

He raised his eyes to look deeply at the old man in front of him, and finally cupped his hands and said, "Goodbye, Senior Brother, take care of yourself!"

With that, the man turned around and walked out of the thatched cottage with firm steps.

At that moment, the Sword Mausoleum's Sword of Rest for Ten Thousand Years broke through the ground and fell to the horizon. White-clothed swordsmen appeared from above the sword.

They stared at the man's back and bowed towards him.

They seemed to be saying something, unable to hear clearly, but they could read the true meaning.

They said.

"The Sword Mausoleum is lonely, waiting for sixty years…"

"It's been hard."

At that time.

Tens of thousands of swords rang out in unison, like a hundred birds chasing a phoenix.

The decisive man seemed to feel something at that time, and the corner of his resolute mouth suddenly revealed a smile from the bottom of his heart.

He turned around and bowed respectfully to the sword.

"Sixty years of lonely companionship, but in terms of swordsmanship, you can bless the world."

"Why bother?"

After saying that, he raised his head and laughed loudly. He turned around again and walked out of the Mausoleum of the Sword without looking back.

The old man in the thatched cottage stared blankly at the figure disappearing from the horizon until he could no longer find a trace.

He finally let out a long sigh. His voice was bleak, and his appearance seemed to have aged a lot in that instant.

"For ten thousand years, the successor of the Mausoleum of the Sword has seen a white head, but in the end, he won't be able to see a good ending."

"Sigh …"

That year, only one person remained in the Southern Desolate Sword Mausoleum.

The people of the Southern Wilderness did not know that the Sword Mausoleum was lonely, they only thought that there was an immortal guarding it to protect the Southern Wilderness.

Only the young children were still singing the nursery rhyme about the Mausoleum of the Sword in their tender and green voices.

Just like the gravekeeper, he hadn't changed for thousands of years.

There was a grave in the Southern Wilderness.

No guests are buried.

No burial, no return.

There was someone in the tomb.

Keep watch over the thousands of blades.

Keep it until eternity.

The sun rises and the sand sinks.

The bright moon came, and the rivers rolled.

He's waiting. He's waiting.

The nine petals of the lotus bloomed, and the immortal fell to the mortal world

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