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墨書 Inktalez
In a courtroom filled with the spirit of justice, a fair-minded judge witnessing this scene would surely feel delighted. For a criminal to openly admit to their wrongdoing in front of the judge signifies that they are indeed an exceptional reformer.
However, the situation here was quite different. The deceased was the Vice Captain of the Saint Envoy, yet in the words of the two young men, he seemed as insignificant as an ant that could be easily crushed—one could kill him, and so could the other.
The admissions from these two individuals highlighted an unpleasant truth: their Vice Captain was truly lacking in strength and had made many enemies.
As a result, the crowd's feelings towards the two young men grew increasingly negative.
The Commander observed their reactions and suddenly chuckled softly, his white beard trembling, completely unlike the elderly man who had just been caught in a life-and-death struggle.
"Is this how young people today strike at others' self-esteem? The Vice Captain I painstakingly selected seems to be no more than a cabbage or radish in your eyes."
Jufeng smiled helplessly and explained, "Commander, you misunderstand. Utada Hikaru fell at the hands of me and Wu working together, so clearly, the talent you selected is indeed of high quality. This is a compliment to you, not a provocation."
Jufeng only wished to act as a mediator and did not want to play the hero and force himself into a corner. Since Wu had also admitted to killing Utada Hikaru, it proved that this brother shared Jufeng's thoughts and perceptions—this Commander was no ordinary person.
The Commander absentmindedly stroked his beard with his hand that wasn't holding the Iron Fist, his gaze towards Jufeng softening.
"If I remember correctly, your name is Jufeng. Utada Hikaru came to see me once regarding you; he felt your killings were excessive and that your appearance in Huaguo caused quite a bloodbath. What do you think about that?"
Jufeng did not expect that the Commander of the Saint Envoy would remember him even amidst his busy schedule. However, this question seemed somewhat probing; one wrong move could tilt things unfavorably.
Jufeng maintained a smile on his face and countered, "Commander, you probably don't know my background?"
"I come from wealth—very wealthy indeed. But I never had the mindset of a rich heir, so I left home early and lived an ordinary life in society. If I wanted money or power, I could have chosen an easier path. But I don't care about those things; in fact, I have never enjoyed killing or conquering."
"I have been forced down this path against my will; it sounds pretentious, but those four words truly summarize my situation. If I were not an ordinary person and could roam freely without attachments, I would have come here today as a tourist. We certainly wouldn't be standing on opposing sides."
"I believe this is similar to what you just said, Commander; Saint Envoy needs you, so you must endure for a few more years. However, regarding titles like Commander or not being a Commander, you've long since stopped caring."
As soon as Jufeng finished speaking, a chestnut burst open on his head. He covered his forehead in confusion and looked toward Li Ji, who had struck him.
"You little brat! You actually believe what he says!" Li Ji exclaimed.
Feeling somewhat wronged, Jufeng stepped back slightly. It was clear that Li Ji was quite dissatisfied with Jufeng's words; however, the Commander thought differently.
He nodded with satisfaction and said, "To have such insight at your age is truly remarkable. It seems my initial thoughts weren't entirely correct; I only intended for Utada Hikaru to hinder you but never imagined it would cost him his life."
"I found your last remark quite intriguing. Do you really believe that when I pick up a weapon, it is to unleash a massacre? Is there any other purpose for swords and blades?"
Having received the Commander’s acknowledgment, Jufeng felt no relief; the Commander’s words seemed to steer the situation toward a more dangerous direction.
Jufeng pondered for a moment, wanting to regain control of the situation. "The knife of a healer is meant to cure and save lives; the knife of a chef is meant for cooking and preparing food. Commander, can a blade have only one purpose?"
"I am inexperienced, so I dare to speculate that your blade, Commander, is likely intended to resolve a conflict."
The Commander was satisfied with Jufeng's response and turned to Li Ji, saying, "It’s pitiful that you’ve lived for so long yet cannot see as clearly as this young man."
Li Ji angrily waved his sleeve. "Nonsense! What does he know? Does he understand that there are wolves in sheep's clothing in this world? A frog at the bottom of a well naively believes that what it sees is the entirety of the world, and it will be unaware of how it meets its end."
Li Ji seemed to harbor little fondness for Jufeng, which was understandable given his harsh words towards his own disciple.
Jufeng was about to say something more when Wu, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up.
"Thirty years ago, my master and the Commander were brothers from the same school, sharing a strong bond and looking out for each other."
Wu's voice resonated slowly in the large room, like an unrolling scroll gently unfolding. It revealed not just a picture but also the history behind it—the bittersweet tales hidden within.
Those who understood Chinese couldn't help but perk up their ears, while those who faced language barriers among the Members focused their gaze on Wu.
Li Ji’s expression darkened like ice; he wanted to interrupt Wu but ultimately refrained.
The Commander’s hand, wrinkled and frail yet gripping Iron Fist tightly, trembled slightly as if Iron Fist itself could comprehend the words being spoken.
Everyone awaited Wu's continuation. Jufeng turned to him with clarity and warmth in his eyes.
Wu continued, "At that time, they were both exceptionally talented individuals venturing through this world together. However, due to certain changes, Saint Envoy needed to select a new Commander, so our sect decided to send my master to participate in the selection."
"But my master was carefree and did not enjoy such a life. Meanwhile, the Commander was determined to become the Commander of Saint Envoy. Yet orders from our sect were hard to refuse, so they spent some time entangled in this dilemma."
"Eventually, the selection for Saint Envoy began. My master participated as usual and triumphed all the way to the end. Naturally, the Commander fell under my master's command."
"However, my master was not happy on the day he became Commander. There were many trivial matters for him to handle that he completely ignored, causing Saint Envoy to gradually decline."
"The Commander held deep feelings for Saint Envoy and did not want his beloved organization to fall into ruin. Therefore, he challenged my master and won without bloodshed by leveraging their brotherly bond. Thus, the position of Grandmaster of the Holy Envoy changed hands in such an absurd manner."
"However, after Master left the Saint Envoy, he faced resentment from the sect and was even expelled. At that time, Master began to regret his decision and wanted to reclaim the position of Commander, but the Commander had already started to elevate the Saint Envoy and was unwilling to relinquish it. Thus, the two parted ways, creating an unresolvable conflict between them."
"Both were the last disciples of the sect, which faded into the dust of history thereafter, yet these two disciples turned against each other."
"And so, carrying their grudges, they lived their own lives. Master formed the Heroic Journey, which gradually grew and became a world-class assassin organization. Meanwhile, the Commander devoted himself to perfecting and developing the Saint Envoy, managing it with great order. Although both had established their own careers, Master could never let go of that hatred."
"Thus, when life had reached its later stages, Master came here seeking a definitive resolution. This led to the earlier scene."
The tale of the Five Generals unfolds simply enough, yet the process is undoubtedly far more complex than words can convey. For instance, there is the tragedy of being abandoned by the sect and the sorrow at their parting.
Otherwise, how could it be that decades have passed, layers of earth have been covered countless times, yet their hatred still stands atop that soil?
(To be continued)
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