Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? - Chapter 301: Daoist Mengchu’s First Mission

Chapter 301: Daoist Mengchu’s First Mission

While the Holy Land of Jade Pool had secretly ordered a search for the “Spicy Strips,”

The fastest batch of Lingxi Valley disciples had already set off with them.

Real Person Yuyao believed that “Spicy Strips” was some rare spiritual herb.

To prevent others from interfering, she insisted that the search be carried out covertly.

At present, True Martial Holy Land had already collapsed.

The Burning Purification Holy Land, though previously a partner, had begun to show signs of tension due to conflict over interests.

Both Holy Lands wanted to split the spoils of True Martial Holy Land.

Burning Purification demanded seventy percent of the resources from True Martial as compensation,

Claiming the Holy Land of Jade Pool had profited greatly from the secret realm.

But how could Real Person Yuyao agree?

In her eyes, the amount of “consumables” you could collect from the secret realm depended entirely on your own abilities.

If your sect wasn’t capable, what right did you have to ask for compensation?

Th𝙞𝕤 𝗰hа̄p𝑡єr ɩ𝑠 pℴ𝖘𝐭𝖾đ bʏ Ḱ𝒾𝕥℮ṉℴ𝖛𝖾𝐥

Still, she had no time or energy to argue with Burning Purification right now.

And both she and Reverend Karma knew—if the two Holy Lands went to war,

It would be a pyrrhic victory. Both sides would suffer, and no one would come out ahead.

So for now, the two sects remained in a deadlock.

Ironically, True Martial Holy Land managed to catch a breather in this strange tension.

Some elders of True Martial had already sensed something was off.

In this Central State Secret Realm mission, their own Real Person Zhang Yibai had died in battle.

Elder Qi Zhengyan of the Unity Stage was scapegoated for the demonic formation incident outside the realm.

Even the Sect’s personal disciple, Zhao Zhenlong, had died under mysterious circumstances inside the secret realm.

Basically, every single unlucky thing had fallen on them.

But True Martial Holy Land had always been favored by heaven and earth.

If divine punishment had really come, it shouldn’t have struck down three of their core pillars at once.

This triple tragedy—was it a scheme to wipe True Martial out?

Looking at the bigger picture, the ones who benefited were only the Holy Land of Jade Pool and the Burning Purification Holy Land.

And curiously, these two sects had barely suffered any casualties.

Sure, it looked like many had died in the Central State Secret Realm,

But upon close inspection, most of the dead were ordinary sect disciples.

Aside from a few elders killed suddenly by the Sword Pavilion Patriarch,

The Burning Purification and Jade Pool Holy Lands had virtually zero losses.

And why did the Sword Pavilion Patriarch go on a killing spree?

Because those two sects had tried to lay hands on his disciple.

His disciple had warned everyone: Jade Pool and Burning Purification had problems.

He even suspected they were sheltering Demon Cultivators.

Whether that part was true remained uncertain.

At the time, the elders of True Martial Holy Land hadn’t thought much of the accusation.

But now, thinking back…

Was it possible… the disciple had been right?

True Martial Holy Land — Grand Hall of True Martial

Now that Zhang Yibai’s Soul Lamp had shattered, confirming his death,

And even Zhao Zhenlong—the top personal disciple—had perished in the secret realm,

True Martial Holy Land was left leaderless.

As a result, Daoist Mengchu, an elder at the Ninth Stage of Void Fusion Realm, had to temporarily assume the role of Sect Leader.

“Everyone here suspects the Jade Pool and Burning Purification may harbor ill intentions.

But does anyone have actual evidence?” Daoist Mengchu’s tone was grave as he looked around the hall.

No one stepped forward. Not a word of advice. Nothing.

Zhang Yibai and Zhao Zhenlong’s deaths had crushed morale across the entire sect.

Even if they had evidence, what could they do?

Each of those rival sects had a cultivator at the Grand Ascension Stage.

Confronting them would only hasten True Martial’s destruction.

Daoist Mengchu looked out over the eerily silent assembly and sighed.

He tucked his sleeves and said solemnly:

“When you joined the True Martial Holy Land, surely you heard the tale of Real Person Zhang.

Real Person Zhang harnessed the essence of heaven and earth, splitting it into yin and yang,

And from this, comprehended the Dao of endless reincarnation—eternal and unbroken.

Our entire sect was founded upon that very principle.”

“But do you know what that heaven-and-earth essence he acquired actually was?”

Everyone looked up at the white-haired, elderly Daoist.

Many of the younger disciples had grown up listening to tales of Zhang Yibai’s greatness.

They knew of his legendary talent, his unmatched brilliance across the Cangyun Realm.

But they didn’t know what that mystical “heavenly essence” actually was.

Daoist Mengchu didn’t keep them guessing.

He lifted his left hand, summoning Pure Yang Sword Intent,

Then lifted his right, calling forth Profound Yin Sword Intent.

He fused the two into a single, warm, glowing light.

“The so-called essence of heaven and earth… is actually Righteous Qi.”

The elder’s voice rang like a bell in their ears—firm, and powerful.

“Our True Martial Sect stands on the foundation of Righteous Qi.

Though some of you cultivate only Pure Yang Sword Qi, and others only Profound Yin Sword Qi—

Both paths draw upon the same source.

Now, our founding ancestor has died under suspicious circumstances,

And even his direct disciple’s body is nowhere to be found.

Are we, disciples of Righteous Qi, really going to cower at such a moment?”

The crowd of True Martial disciples felt a wave of shame in their hearts.

Exactly. The verse said:

“The dark cannot corrupt True Martial; the heavens ink, the earth parchment.”

They had upheld their sect for over three thousand years.

When had they ever bowed to fear?

Were they going to let their founder die without even learning the truth?

What right did they have to still call themselves disciples of True Martial?

“Elder, what should we do?” one elder at the Unity Stage stepped forward, fists clenched, eyes red.

“Please guide us! There are no cowards in True Martial! Give the word, and we’ll all draw our swords and march on Jade Pool and Burning Purification!”

“Fools!” Daoist Mengchu scolded. “Charging in blindly—how is that different from suicide?

Dying won’t bring peace to our founder’s soul! It won’t clear True Martial’s name!”

The Unity elder bit his lip, lowered his head, and fell silent.

“What we need now is clarity, not confusion,” Daoist Mengchu said, narrowing his eyes.

Truth was, he hadn’t summoned everyone here just to say these things.

He already had a plan in mind.

“The one sect that’s clearly clashed with Jade Pool and Burning Purification is the Sword Pavilion,” he declared loudly.

“I intend to conceal my identity and contact them.

Through the Sword Pavilion, we might uncover the truth—whether Jade Pool and Burning Purification really are corrupted.”

“But… isn’t the Sword Pavilion harboring a Demon Cultivator?” someone asked, raising a hand.

“And are you sure it was a Demon Cultivator?” Daoist Mengchu countered.

“What if it was just a disciple who accidentally practiced demonic techniques?”

“Does practicing a demonic art automatically make someone a Demon Cultivator?

Can they not disperse their cultivation and start over?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Think for yourselves. Don’t believe everything you hear.

Just like now—you’ve all started to suspect Jade Pool and Burning Purification, haven’t you?”

With that, a faint mist began to rise from Daoist Mengchu’s body.

As the mist dispersed, his appearance had completely transformed into that of a young cultivator,

His cultivation base now suppressed down to the Nascent Soul stage.

Everyone stared, stunned.

This wasn’t just aura suppression or hiding his spiritual signature—

He had completely become someone else, even down to the temperament and presence.

“Hahahaha! Who says a man can’t be young again?” Daoist Mengchu laughed gently, shaking his head.

A longsword as pale as moonlight appeared in his hand.

Then, before their very eyes, his figure faded into mist and vanished.

Only a lingering voice echoed in the great hall—

“This old man… takes his leave.”