Demonic Dao Fanfiction: Protecting You from Worries for a Lifetime

"Master, Brother, Chaoyang misses you so much." Chaoyang's voice drifted on the mountain breeze, as if traveling through time and space, returning to the familiar home he once knew. He had just lied; Master and Brother didn't die in that battle; they committed suicide. At this thought, a flicker of pain crossed Chaoyang's eyes. That day, he lost both Master and Brother, yet he couldn't even bring himself to hate them. Simply because they were their loved ones.

If he hadn't interfered with his brother's feelings for that person, if I hadn't told him that as long as he persisted, that person would eventually reciprocate, perhaps none of this would have happened. Would the outcome have been different? Would he have been able to protect them? But what ifs?

Yet, the wheel of time rolls relentlessly forward, unable to turn back. Chaoyang could only silently yearn for his master and fellow apprentices amidst the mountain breeze, his heart filled with endless longing and regret. He longed to see them again, even for a fleeting moment, even in a dream. However, all that had passed, leaving behind a pain in his heart that could never be erased.

The senior brother's swordsmanship was unrivaled, yet he lost his way in the whirlpool of emotions, ultimately becoming a demon driven by love. It seemed as if every decision he made was fraught with error, as if once he took a wrong step, there was no turning back. Meanwhile, the master, dedicated his entire life to the affairs of the sect, considered its honor and dignity the most important things in his life. After that devastating battle, the master chose to commit suicide, hoping to uphold the dignity of the sect through his sacrifice and protect his own son, driven by love. However, the master was unaware that at the moment of his death, the son he wanted to protect (the senior brother) had also made the same choice.

That day, Chaoyang witnessed a sky filled with magical formations and a shimmering golden light. It was the ritual his senior brother was performing for the salvation of all the fallen disciples of the sect. He offered his entire cultivation as a sacrifice, praying for their peace. Then, before everyone had recovered from their shock, he performed the sword sacrifice. It was known throughout the cultivation world that when a cultivator dies at the hands of their natal sword, they are unable to reincarnate, cease to exist in the six realms, and dissipate between heaven and earth.

The senior brother arranged the most painful ending for himself: he chose to disappear from this world forever, with no afterlife. His choice was full of determination and tragedy, as if he was using this method to atone for the mistakes he had made.

Chaoyang said with emotion: "Yes! How can those who are committed to practicing the ruthless way understand the true meaning of love? Hahaha!" His laughter echoed in the valley, but it was mixed with endless bitterness.

Chaoyang stood atop the mountain, letting the wind whip his long hair around him, his heart aching as if being cut by a sharp blade. He recalled that heartbreaking day, his senior brother's eyes filled with despair, his master's face, aged by the siege of the sect. On that day, unable to save his master and senior brother, Chaoyang's Dao heart was shattered, unable to wield his sword again. After all, Chaoyang's Dao heart was meant to protect, but the one he wanted to protect was no longer there.

"The ruthless way, the ruthless way..." Chaoyang murmured to himself, with an inexplicable sadness welling up in his heart.

Chaoyang closed his eyes, trying to dispel the painful memories from his heart, but they followed him like a shadow and could not be shaken off.

"Master, Senior Brother, why are you so determined?" Chaoyang muttered to himself, a hint of sob in his voice. Chaoer was left alone in this endless loneliness. A slight moisture welled up in the corners of Chaoyang's eyes, but it was quickly dried by the mountain breeze.

That day, the morning sun stood on the top of the mountain like a statue, motionless. He stood there quietly, as if he had merged with nature and become a part of the majestic mountain range.

Until night falls, the stars dot the night sky.

When Chaoyang returned to the courtyard, several lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, emitting a soft glow. Wei Ying, Yan, Meng Yao, Xue Yang, and Fen Hua had been waiting in the courtyard, their eyes filled with concern.

"Uncle, you're back." Wei Ying was the first to come forward, his eyes full of worry.

Chaoyang nodded, a tired smile on his face. "I'm back."

Xue Yang stepped forward and said softly, "Uncle, you don't have to bear this alone. We are all here and willing to listen to you."

"Uncle, it's okay. You should go and rest."

"But..." Wei Ying said worriedly.

"Aying, uncle, it's really okay." Chaoyang's voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable firmness. He gently patted Wei Ying's shoulder, signaling him not to worry.

"The most important thing for you now is to rest. Your uncle will take care of his own affairs." Chaoyang's gaze swept across everyone's face, and a warm light flashed in his eyes.

"Go for it!!"

After hearing this, although Wei Ying and the others were still a little uneasy, they nodded, turned around, left the courtyard, and returned to their rooms.

Chaoyang watched them leave. Perhaps they would become his driving force to move forward in the endless darkness.

Chaoyang sat on the stone bench, looking at the ancient locust tree in the yard, his thoughts drifting to the distant past again.

After an unknown amount of time, he finally pulled out the long-forgotten sword. He gently stroked the blade, almost feeling the presence of his master and his senior brothers. This was the natal sword they had crafted for him, and he hadn't used it since they left.

"Long time no see, Changqi." Chaoyang's voice was deep and full of emotion, as if he was talking to a long-lost friend. Changqi, the name of this sword, carries too many memories and emotions.

As his voice shifted, the sword trembled gently, as if answering Chaoyang's call. Chaoyang's fingers gently stroked the blade, and the chill brought back memories of the past. Back then, he'd trained with his master and fellow apprentice in the mountains, their sword energy surging and their sword intent soaring to the heavens. His master's guidance was rigorous yet full of wisdom, while his fellow apprentice's swordsmanship had reached a state of unparalleled mastery, awe-inspiring.

However, now all of this has become a memory, and Chaoyang's heart is filled with endless sorrow.

"This sword carries too many memories." Chaoyang whispered to himself, with a hint of helplessness in his voice.

He stood up and slowly walked towards the courtyard. Chaoyang closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened them. His eyes became firm, as if he had made some kind of resolution.

Chaoyang drew his sword, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight. He began to dance with it, his movements light and fluid, as if dancing with the wind. Each stroke was filled with power and beauty, as if expressing the deepest joys and sorrows of his heart.

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Chaoyang possesses two exclusive natal weapons: the Changqi Sword and the Canyun Umbrella. [The Canyun Umbrella has the ability to change its appearance, usually taking on a fan-shaped form.]