131: Chapter 131 Rumors Boiling Over

Even the peddler carrying a pole of candied haws on the street changed his tune, shouting crisply: "Buy a stick of candied haws, bask in the good fortune of the First Prince Wu Zhanxian, and you too can become a hero in the future—!"

By the time the rumors reached the ears of the great clans, they had long since become unrecognizable— "First Prince Wu Zhanxian's cultivation is unfathomable. With just his Aura alone, he blasted three Void Refinement Stage experts into explosions on the spot!"

"Minister of War Leng Jiangchan had it even worse; without even seeing his face, he was scared into Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering by a single glance. His corpse grew cold, and no one dared to touch it!"

The heads of various clans gripped their secret reports, their knuckles turning white. With grim expressions, they urgently summoned their clansmen for discussion.

No one dared to treat that "resurrected" First Prince Wu Zhanxian as an ordinary junior anymore. Even their strategies regarding the Hundred Dynasties War shifted quietly, for fear of accidentally provoking this god of slaughter.

Meanwhile, at the Martial Arts Arena of the Great Wu Dynasty.

Flags snapped in the wind, and Killing Intent surged, almost condensing into substance.

The Martial Arts Arena covered a thousand mu, surrounded by the colorful flags of various Dynasties—on the Great Wu's Black Dragon flag, a golden Dragon raised its head, appearing as if it wanted to break free from the flag and soar into the sky; beside the Northern Xuan's Green Blade flag, phantom images of Sword Qi flickered in and out of existence; the Western Desert's Steed flag danced wildly in the wind, with the faint sound of ten thousand horses galloping; on the Southern Wilderness's Witch Snake flag, the snake patterns emitted a ghostly light, eerie and chilling.

Flags of various colors tore through the wind like thousands of Vicious Beasts roaring, heralding the arrival of a battle between dragons and tigers.

In the field, hundreds of arenas stood in rows, all cast from thousand-year black iron. The cold light of the black iron shimmered with a chill under the sun. The surfaces were smooth as mirrors, clearly reflecting the flowing clouds in the sky and the moving shadows of the people around. Even the ambition and tension in everyone's eyes were laid bare.

At the edges of the arenas, dense array patterns were inscribed. Pale golden Spiritual Qi flowed between the lines like a living stream, not only isolating the aftermath of battles to protect those outside, but also drawing upon Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi, allowing the contestants to unleash their strength to the limit.

At the entrance, the flow of people was like a weave. The atmosphere was so heated it was almost boiling, yet it was also stretched tight with a string of Killing Intent.

Young Prodigies from all directions filed in. Some wore tight outfits and carried blades, their Killing Intent sharp as knives; others wore long robes and held folding fans, hiding needle-like gazes beneath their gentle exteriors; there were even those dressed in exotic styles, their bodies wreathed in wild bloodthirst or cold deathly intent, drawing side-glances from others, yet no one dared to easily provoke them.

These Prodigies had vastly different attitudes toward one another. Disciples of the same Dynasty stood shoulder to shoulder, exchanging tactics in low voices, their fingertips tracing Moves on their palms. Disciples from familiar Sects nodded in greeting, yet their eyes hid a competitive spirit that refused to admit defeat.

Most people simply stared at each other coldly. Their gazes swept over the other, like falcons sizing up prey, secretly weighing their depth. Invisible Auras collided and tangled in the crowd. It was as if invisible sparks were sputtering in the air.

Everyone knew—these hundreds of black iron arenas before them were not only stages to make a name for oneself and bring glory to one's Sect, but could also be shura fields where one returned in defeat or even lost their life. The Hundred Dynasties War, this cruel slaughter gathering the Prodigies of the myriad domains, was about to raise its bloody curtain.

"Hey, have you all heard about what happened at Lanyue Tower last night?" A slightly sharp voice suddenly rang out in the crowd. Like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, it instantly broke the reserved and tense confrontation.

The speaker was a thin, small youth dressed in the cyan attire of a medium-sized Dynasty, his eyes darting around, revealing a cleverness that came from relying on gathering gossip to become familiar with people.

Seeing many people look over, he immediately shrank his neck, squeezed into the crowd, and lowered his voice. His tone was mysterious, mixed with a trace of uncontrollable fear: "Shocking news! That First Prince of our Great Wu Imperial Dynasty who was rumored to have perished long ago... appeared at Lanyue Tower last night!"

"What? First Prince Wu Zhanxian?!" Someone immediately lost their voice, their pitch changing, their face filled with disbelief: "Wasn't he gone in the palace coup over a decade ago? Without a corpse, how could he suddenly..."

"It's absolutely true!" Seeing someone questioning, the thin youth hurriedly waved his hand, his voice dropping even lower, yet every word clearly drilled into people's eardrums: "I heard from a distant relative working in the palace that as soon as he returned, he went to Lanyue Tower and clashed with the Second Prince!"

"Minister of War Leng Jiangchan and his son Leng Wufeng—were slain by the First Prince on the spot!"

"What's even scarier is that there were three Cultivators at the Void Refinement Stage who wanted to kill him, and the result... you guess what happened?"

He paused deliberately, leaving a cliffhanger. His gaze swept across his surroundings—even those Prodigies who had originally looked straight ahead with arrogant expressions couldn't help but prick up their ears, the curiosity in their eyes almost overflowing. Some even unconsciously took half a step forward.

The thin youth felt smug and cleared his throat, continuing: "The First Prince didn't even draw his sword!"

"It's said that he just... coldly glanced at them."

"Those three great Void Refinement Stage Cultivators—exploded and died on the spot! Not even their bones were left, only a pool of blood foam!"

"Hiss—!" A chorus of gasps immediately sounded all around. Many people subconsciously retreated half a step, their faces filled with shock, even holding their breath.

Void Refinement Stage... to these young Prodigies, most of whom were still struggling in the Core Formation or Golden Core Realm, that was an existence like a mountain that one had to look up to. Let alone resisting, even seeing one required bowing respectfully. To be... instantly killed by a single glance, all three of them?!

"Impossible!" A Western Desert warrior carrying a long blade spoke up suddenly, his voice like a booming bell, carrying undeniable certainty, the veins on his forehead bulging: "No matter how monstrous the First Prince's talent is, it is absolutely impossible for him to cross the Nascent Soul and Soul Transformation stages in a dozen years to reach the realm of instantly killing a Void Refinement Stage expert!"

"This must be rumors spreading, exaggerating the facts!"

"I also think it's an exaggeration." Beside him, a green-robed Sword Cultivator from the Northern Xuan Dynasty spoke slowly, his eyes as cold as ice: "Even if the First Prince is an ancient God Emperor Reincarnation practicing again, he still needs time to accumulate cultivation. In just over a decade, it is absolutely impossible to possess the power to crush a Void Refinement Stage expert."

"There must be something fishy about this."

A chorus of agreement rose from the crowd. Many people nodded in concurrence, feeling that this rumor was as ridiculous as a fabricated storybook.

"Whether it was a single glance or not..." A hoarse voice suddenly sounded, like sandpaper grinding wood, interrupting the discussion.

The speaker was a woman from the Southern Wilderness Witch Sect, wearing a black robe with eerie snake patterns embroidered on the hem. A small emerald snake was coiled around her fingertip, its tongue flicking, emitting an eerie light.

"But the death of Minister of War Leng Jiangchan and his son, and their faction being uprooted overnight—the Imperial notice has already been posted on Vermilion Bird Avenue."

"This is a hard, ironclad fact."

She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over everyone, her voice cold: "This First Prince, upon his return, has such methods... he is definitely not someone to be trifled with. From now on, let us all be careful. Do not accidentally provoke his bad luck... and lose your life without even knowing the reason."

As the voice fell, the crowd suddenly went silent. Even the sound of the wind whipping the flags was clearly audible. Everyone was silent.

Yes. Whether the rumors were true or false for now—the fall of the Leng family was a fact. This First Prince had just returned to the Imperial city and dared to Move against the Minister of War. His ruthless methods and powerful courage were enough to make people tremble.

For a time, the atmosphere in the Martial Arts Arena became even more solemn. In the eyes of the Prodigies looking toward the direction of the Imperial city, awe and vigilance were intertwined, pressing heavily on everyone's heart.

The masked woman from the Penglai Immortal Sect of the Eastern Sea stood quietly in the bustling crowd. Beneath the plain white veil, those eyes, which were usually as clear as cold pools of autumn water... at this moment, rippled with fine waves.

It was like a gentle breeze brushing over a quiet lake, or like stars falling into the eternal night. Hidden within was a trace of ripples that even she herself had not noticed.

She turned her head slightly and whispered to her companion beside her. Her voice was as light as a floating feather, yet wrapped in the weight of a thousand jun: "The interior of the Great Wu Dynasty... is likely to undergo a huge change. This Hundred Dynasties War, perhaps... is a hundred times more complex than we anticipated."