116: The 11th Prince's Clash

Xuanyuan Zhanxian's fingertips slowly traced the rim of the celadon cup. The cold, smooth texture of the glaze seeped into his skin as silently as the frost of late autumn.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling upon the face of Princess Xia Zhiqing beside him.

Seeing her lips pressed tightly together and her jawline tensed into a sharp arc from nervousness, a faint smile flickered in his eyes. His tone was as casual as if he were chatting about the falling maple leaves outside the window:

"Junior Sister, there is no need to worry. If the sky falls, my Junior Brother will naturally be there to hold it up. What is there to fear?"

As soon as the words left his lips, a look of indescribable helplessness appeared on the face of Chu Zhanxiao, who stood waiting at his side—a man whose expression was always calm and unruffled.

He met Princess Xia Zhiqing's equally bewildered gaze and shook his head with a wry smile.

It was in this subtle moment, filled with a touch of worldly atmosphere—

Outside the building, the sound of rhythmic, uniform footsteps approached from afar, arriving with a roar! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Every time a boot sole fell, it was like a heavy drumstick, striking the solid ground hard, and striking the suddenly tightened heartstrings of everyone present.

These footsteps carried an indisputable discipline and the crushing sense of oppression unique to imperial authority. Step by step, they shattered the tranquility outside and pounded into everyone's eardrums.

Immediately following this, the sharp, high-pitched, and elongated announcement of an attendant pierced through the exquisite carved windows like a sharp arrow, exploding within the spacious, high-ceilinged hall of Lanyue Tower and echoing repeatedly:

"His Highness, the Second Prince—has arrived—!"

All gazes, as if pulled by invisible threads, turned in unison toward the entrance.

Where light and shadow intersected, a young man dressed in a dark cyan brocade robe stepped over the threshold, surrounded by a crowd.

On the brocade robe, the four-clawed python pattern, embroidered with gold and silver thread, shimmered brilliantly under the soft glow of the night-luminescent pearls.

The python's body was winding, its scales menacing. With his steady strides, the giant python seemed to slowly slither across the fabric, ready to burst out of the silk at any moment and devour someone.

The young man was indeed handsome, with a straight nose bridge, but the nobility deeply embedded in his bones and the arrogance of looking down upon all living beings were the most distinct imprints of his status.

The Second Prince of the Great Wu Dynasty, Second Prince Wu Yuanchen.

Behind him, four young experts followed like shadows. Their eyes were as sharp as unsheathed blades, and the gems inlaid on the scabbards of the swords at their waists emitted a restrained, mysterious light, hiding their spiritual essence.

Further back, two rows of guards in dark armor stood in silent, solemn formation. Their heavy armor covered their entire bodies, and the gaps between the plates revealed the cold luster unique to metal. Their bodies were suffused with an Evil Qi that could only be tempered through the baptism of blood and fire—a presence so dense it felt tangible. Merely standing there, they made the air feel several degrees heavier.

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's gaze, like two barbed probes, ignored all the Prodigies in the hall the moment he stepped in, and with pinpoint accuracy, it locked firmly onto the main seat.

When he saw clearly who was sitting on the chair that symbolized supreme honor, his pupils suddenly contracted to the size of needle points!

Deep within his eyes, a sense of unbelievable shock, mixed with the fury of having his territory violated, exploded suddenly like ice water dropped into boiling oil!

He had never dreamed that this elder brother—who had disappeared for nearly a decade, was almost sealed away in the imperial records, and was assumed by everyone to have "died young"—would appear so abruptly and so arrogantly in the center of the stage he had meticulously planned, and furthermore... brazenly occupy the throne he had reserved for himself!

But that shock existed for only a brief moment.

The muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched, then curled upward, pulling into a smile that appeared warm but was actually filled with cold malice and scrutiny.

He deliberately infused his voice with spiritual power. It was not loud, but it was delivered with absolute clarity to every corner of the hall:

"Yo—" He drew out his tone, his gaze like a sticky venomous snake, circling over Xuanyuan Zhanxian, "Is this not my... dear Imperial Brother? This is truly surprising. Imperial Brother, you have arrived truly... quite early today."

He enunciated the words "Imperial Brother" heavily and slowly. Every syllable was soaked in venomous mockery and undisguised probing, like a rusty, dull knife scraping harshly against the taut nerves of everyone present.

In an instant, Lanyue Tower fell into dead silence. Even the faintest sound of breathing seemed to be strangled by an invisible hand and cut off abruptly.

Countless gazes, like spotlights, hit Xuanyuan Zhanxian in unison. Shock, realization, suspicion, amusement, gloating... all sorts of complex emotions collided and intertwined in the air without a sound.

In the vast Great Wu Dynasty, there was only one person who could be called "Imperial Brother" by the current Second Prince—that First Prince, First Prince Wu Zhanxian, who had "accidentally been assassinated" at the royal hunting grounds years ago, subsequently vanished mysteriously, whose life or death remained a mystery, and who had been almost completely forgotten by time!

Huang Tianjiao's slender hand, holding the warm Phoenix jade pendant, tightened suddenly with such force that the beautiful jade almost emitted a faint groan under the unbearable pressure.

The color drained from her stunningly beautiful face instantly, revealing a heart-stopping paleness. However, deep within those phoenix eyes, a sharp, sword-like brilliance suddenly erupted, and a monstrous wave surged in her heart:

So it was him! No wonder he possessed such monstrous arrogance, treating rules as nothing! No wonder he could command such terrifying Void Refining guards!

How could this be a mere contest between Prodigies? This was clearly the most core, most bloody succession battle of the Great Wu Dynasty, which had already begun ahead of schedule!

Under the focus of countless gazes intertwined with shock, curiosity, scrutiny, and malice, Xuanyuan Zhanxian slowly lifted his eyes.

His expression was as calm as the deepest sea before a storm, without a single ripple. It was as if Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's meaningful call was merely addressing a complete stranger.

He did not even intend to stand up; he only pressed his fingertips, which had been gently tracing the rim of the cup, slightly downward.

"Ding." A crisp sound, like a jade chime, erupted from where the rim of the cup touched the smooth tabletop. In this silence where one could hear a pin drop, it was no less than a thunderclap, instantly tearing through the suffocating silence.

"The location is acceptable, and the view is open," he said, his tone as indifferent as if he were commenting on a piece of furniture, "so I came a bit early."

After speaking, his gaze finally turned to Second Prince Wu Yuanchen, who was a few steps away. This gaze was calm, yet it seemed to carry a weight of ten thousand jun, silently spreading out.

"Second Brother is hosting a banquet, and I, as the eldest brother, am sitting in this main seat," he paused, his tone devoid of fluctuation yet every word clear, carrying an indifferent sense of entitlement, "Second Brother, surely you would not have any objections, right?"

The smile on Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's face froze instantly. The smile solidified on his face like a mask that had been meticulously painted but suddenly shattered, revealing the stiff, twisted muscles underneath.

Deep within his eyes, a cold, sinister light flashed and vanished like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.

This main seat was something he had spent great effort to have master craftsmen create with all their might. The intertwined Dragon and Phoenix patterns on the back of the chair, in their complexity and majesty, even vaguely surpassed certain palace standards. The purpose was to silently declare his status and rightful destiny today, in this place where the world's heroes gathered.

Yet at this moment, all of this had been claimed so easily and so "righteously" by this "long-dead" elder brother! This was not just stealing a seat; this was trampling his face and ambition fiercely underfoot in front of everyone in the world!

Rage, like magma, surged crazily in his chest, almost breaking through the dam of his reason. But he clenched his back teeth tightly, forcibly suppressing that evil fire that was almost about to erupt.

Everyone was watching; the timing was not right.

He squeezed a superficial smile back onto his face, stepped forward, and stopped exactly three steps away from the main seat. His gaze swept back and forth between Xuanyuan Zhanxian and the luxurious chair. He deliberately kept his voice even, yet every word hid a blade:

"Imperial Brother... likes this position? Heh, having been away from the Imperial Capital for so long, I fear Imperial Brother is unaware of the current customs. This main seat, you see, has always been... occupied by those with virtue, and sat upon by those with power. Having been away from the capital for many years and living a loose life in the mountains and wilds, I fear Imperial Brother has become somewhat rusty even on the most basic 'rules' of the Imperial Capital? Sitting in the wrong place will inevitably... invite ridicule and pointlessly diminish the dignity of our Great Wu Dynasty."

As soon as the words fell, as if unable to restrain himself any longer, a young man behind him, dressed in apricot-yellow fine robes and with a pale, slightly chubby face, rushed forward in a single stride.

It was Li Song, the son of the Minister of War and the vanguard most skilled at cheering and agitating under Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's command.

His face was piled with obsequiousness. He first bowed deeply toward Second Prince Wu Yuanchen, then turned to Xuanyuan Zhanxian, his voice suddenly raised, filled with righteous indignation:

"Everything Your Highness the Second Prince said is pearls of wisdom! Your Highness the First Prince, you have been away from the capital for many years with no news, and today, upon appearing suddenly, you commit such an act of overstepping your bounds. I fear you have forgotten even the most basic 'order of status and distinction between superior and inferior' entirely! This seat was set up by Your Highness the Second Prince to manifest the national might of our Great Wu and to host heroes from all directions! How can it be something that others can casually lay a finger on? In this humble official's opinion, you should quickly stand up and return this seat to Your Highness the Second Prince; that would be the proper course of action!"

He spoke at an extremely fast pace, spittle flying, firmly slapping the labels of "ignorant of the big picture" and "not understanding the rules" onto him, intending to seize the moral high ground.

The atmosphere in the venue instantly dropped to the freezing point, and the air was so heavy it could almost drip water.

Princess Xia Zhiqing's hand, hanging by her side, tightened slightly unconsciously, her knuckles turning pale from the force.

She looked towards the main seat with concern, only to see Xuanyuan Zhanxian sitting as steady as a mountain, even raising his hand again to lift the celadon wine cup before him, bringing it to his lips to take a leisurely sip.

His movements were composed and elegant, as if the surging undercurrents, harsh accusations, and malicious gazes around him were merely the drumbeats on a stage, serving only to accompany his drink.

"Rules?"

Xuanyuan Zhanxian set down the wine cup.

The bottom of the cup touched the table with a light, clear "clink"—not loud, yet it strangely overwhelmed all the whispering.

His gaze finally met Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's directly.

The look was still calm, but no longer with the previous indifference; instead, it carried an invisible pressure that seemed capable of piercing through a person's heart, slowly spreading out like an invisible net that enveloped the entire hall, making everyone feel their hearts sink and their breath hitch slightly.

"Where I am,"

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet carrying a decisive, unquestionable certainty, with every word seeming to weigh a thousand jin,

"Strength is the only rule."

He leaned forward slightly, a movement almost imperceptible, yet it brought an oppressive feeling like a collapsing mountain as he stared straight into Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's flickering eyes.

"If Second Brother feels that your elder brother is unfit for this seat..."

His tone remained flat, yet it carried an authoritative, adjudicative quality, as if stating a fundamental truth of the world,

"You are welcome to come forward yourself and 'invite' me down."

Once these words were spoken, the entire assembly was shocked!

This was no longer a war of words; this was a naked, uncompromising declaration of war!

It was tearing the thin veil of royal decorum to shreds right in front of the world's heroes!

It was baring the bloody fangs of fratricide directly under the light of day!

The corner of Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's eye twitched violently, his fake smile completely shattered, and his expression instantly turned as gloomy as the sea before a storm.

He had never expected that Xuanyuan Zhanxian would dare to be so direct, so unscrupulous!

Completely ignoring the network of forces behind him, ignoring royal decorum, ignoring any possible consequences!

His own cultivation had reached the Golden Core Middle Stage, which was indeed outstanding among his peers, and he even had the strength to fight against an ordinary Nascent Soul Early Stage cultivator.

But that silent, effortless neutralization of his probe last night was like a ghost haunting him.

Coupled with the terrifying, lingering pressure brought by those dozen Void Refining Realm guards just now...

A sliver of cold apprehension, like a poisonous vine, quietly coiled around his heart and ankles.

His feet felt as if they were welded to the ground, caught in a dilemma.

To advance, he dared not; to retreat, he would lose all face and prestige.

His complexion shifted between pale and ashen, truly a sight to behold.

Just as this suffocating standoff reached its Peak, a young man behind Second Prince Wu Yuanchen, wearing deep blue robes with a cold, aloof temperament like ancient glacial ice, suddenly stepped forward.

This man's facial features were as hard and sharp as if carved by a knife, his jaw tight, his brows gathering a near-tangible, biting Killing Intent.

He was the Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei, ninth on the Prodigy list, and a Peak Golden Core Late Stage cultivator.

His "Ice Sword Art" was renowned far and wide; his Sword Qi could freeze even spiritual energy, making him the sharpest and most loyal killing sword in the Second Prince's hand.

"His Highness the Second Prince is of golden lineage and unmatched nobility; how can he be treated with such disrespect?"

The Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei's voice rang out like a blizzard blowing across the far northern wilderness, every word laced with ice shards, cold enough to pierce the heart.

The aura around him suddenly became incomparably sharp.

Although his invisible Sword Qi had not yet fully erupted, it had already spread like a cold tide, locking firmly onto Xuanyuan Zhanxian on the main seat.

Those nearby felt a chill penetrate their bodies, subconsciously holding their breath, their robes fluttering without wind.

"Since the First Prince insists on determining status by 'strength',"

The Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei's gaze was as sharp as an unsheathed ice blade, stabbing directly at Xuanyuan Zhanxian, the chill in his voice almost freezing the air,

"I am untalented, but I am willing to take the place of the Second Prince and 'seek advice' from the First Prince on a few moves!"

"So that everyone present can see whether the First Prince is truly... worthy of this position!"

As the words fell, the atmosphere in the hall tightened to the breaking point!

Everyone knew this was the classic "borrowing a knife to kill."

Using the Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei as a sharp blade to test the depth of Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

If he won, Second Prince Wu Yuanchen could use the momentum to seize the position and regain the initiative, or even make an issue of it; if he lost, Second Prince Wu Yuanchen could simply claim "my subordinate was reckless and acted on his own" to withdraw gracefully and save face.

Countless gazes, like red-hot iron needles, were nailed firmly onto Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

Some hoped he would show weakness, some were curious about how he would break the situation, and others held the mindset of watching a show, waiting to see how this drama of royal fratricide would end in bloodshed.

However, facing this aggressive challenge, the nearly tangible cold Killing Intent, and the sword pressure, Xuanyuan Zhanxian did not even lift an eyelid.

It was as if the murderous Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei before him, and that oppressive sharp edge, were merely a buzzing, annoying fly in the corner.

He did not even look directly at the Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei, just turned his head slightly, and waved his hand casually at the dark, abyss-like figure standing behind him, his tone indifferent and devoid of any human emotion:

"Too noisy."

He paused, and spat out two words, light and airy, yet each weighing a thousand jin:

"Abolish him."

"Yes."

Commander Yingsha's response was colder than the winds of the Nine Netherworlds, harder than ten-thousand-year black iron.

The moment the words fell—

No one even saw him lift an arm or circulate his Qi.

Only a nearly transparent, yet condensed-to-the-extreme, subtle force appeared out of thin air, as if it had directly torn through the barriers of space and time, ignoring the distance of several zhang, carrying a bone-chilling, sharp sound that froze the Soul, arriving in an instant!

The speed was beyond the limits of vision, beyond the capture of thought!

The swaying candlelight in the hall only had time to flicker slightly in a blurred halo; even the flow of light and shadow seemed to have been left behind by this force!

"Sss—!"

A sound, subtle to the extreme yet sharp enough to pierce the eardrums and drill straight into the marrow!

It was not the clash of metal, nor the explosion of spiritual energy, but a more bizarre, more overbearing power, the teeth-aching sound made when piercing through protective spiritual light and tearing through the barriers of the Meridians.

All the coldness, Killing Intent, and confidence on the Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei's face completely froze in that instant, immediately submerged by boundless horror and despair!

His pupils contracted to the size of needle points, and every hair on his body was screaming!

A deathly aura that could freeze the Divine Soul, and seemed capable of even freezing consciousness, had completely enveloped him!

He did not even have time to make a complete block.

Relying entirely on the instinct honed from countless struggles on the edge of life and death, the cold, murderous longsword at his waist "clanged" and automatically sprang out half a foot.

His wrist turned with blinding speed, and in an instant, sword light splashed out, weaving into an impenetrable, ice-cold, crystalline sword screen in front of him!

However—

It was futile!

That nearly transparent, bizarre force, as if it possessed life and spirituality, and as if it ignored all tangible and intangible obstacles in the world, easily and precisely pierced through the smallest, most impossible-to-penetrate gap in the sword screen.

Even the fierce Sword Qi and the bone-chilling cold energy could not hinder it in the slightest, as if that sword screen, which had caused countless opponents to meet their doom, was merely a layer of illusory gauze.

The next instant.

"Ughhh—!!!"

A shrill, inhuman scream, filled with unspeakable, excruciating pain and the despair of having his Foundation completely destroyed, erupted from the depths of the Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei's throat!

The sound was distorted, making one's hair stand on end.

His entire body was hit head-on by an invisible, prehistoric beast with the force of ten thousand jin, and he was sent flying backward!

His feet plowed two shocking, deep grooves into the mirror-like bluestone floor.

He stumbled back several steps, his back carrying the terrifying residual force as he slammed heavily into a thick, coiling-dragon-carved pillar that would require two people to embrace!

"Boom—!!!"

A dull, terrifying sound like a meteorite hitting the ground exploded!

The entire Lanyue Tower seemed to tremble violently as a result!

The thick pillar groaned under the unbearable weight, and the accumulated dust and paint on it fell in sheets, like a rain of gray.

The Heir to the Marquis of Zhenbei remained pinned tightly against the vibrating pillar, his face as pale as gold paper.

The veins on his forehead and neck bulged and twisted like dragons, and beads of cold sweat instantly gushed out, mixed with the black, icy, blood-flecked foam constantly overflowing from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his twisted jaw.

He clutched his lower abdomen Dantian tightly with both hands, where the originally surging, river-like spiritual energy was now leaking, dissipating, and annihilating at a terrifying speed!

He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to utter an unwilling curse or a desperate groan, but could only squeeze out a wheezing "ho-ho" sound from his throat.

His eyes, like a candle in the wind, rapidly dimmed, leaving behind only endless venom, and... deep-seated, unforgettable fear.