155: Chapter 155 Array Formation and Supernatural Powers

To those familiar with imperial schemes and court undercurrents, Emperor Wu Tianba's gentle and encouraging demeanor only sent a chill creeping up their spines—a chill not from the wind outside, but one spreading from the deepest depths of their hearts, making them shudder.

The inscrutability of this emperor was already an open secret.

One moment he could harbor murderous intent because his imperial power was threatened, and the next, he could be all smiles because the other party displayed greater value—enticement and checks and balances were handled by him with ease, like shifting pieces on a chessboard, effortless and traceless.

The more indifferent his expression was at this moment, the more bottomless his imperial schemes appeared, like an undercurrent lurking beneath a calm sea capable of swallowing a giant ship—silent, yet fatal.

A trace of understanding flashed in Jian Xiaotian's eyes.

He followed Wu Tianba's lead, the corners of his lips curling into a meaningful arc. His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, like pearls falling onto a jade plate:

"The third of the Heavenly Child, the pearl that the Liuyun Dynasty regards as a treasure... is actually so concerned about your son."

"Brother Wu, this Eighteenth Prince of yours not only possesses extraordinary talent, but his Opportunity... is so profound it is shocking."

This sounded like praise, but every word was like a needle, hiding a sharp edge—piercing the emperor's most sensitive nerves.

By deliberately pointing out Yun Zhi's noble status and the tangled Dynasty forces behind her, he was effectively reminding Wu Tianba: the current Wu Zhenkan had grown strong, no longer the weak, isolated prince who could be easily manipulated.

Standing behind him was not just one or two helpers, but the shadow of an entire Dynasty.

Upon hearing this, Wu Tianba let out a hearty laugh.

The laughter caused the teacup on the table to tremble slightly, yet no one could discern a shred of genuine emotion within it.

He neither responded nor denied it.

His eyes, deep as an abyss, followed the figure of Yun Zhi helping Wu Zhenkan leave from afar. Deep within his gaze, emotions surged, dark as a deep valley shrouded in night fog—there was scrutiny, calculation, wariness, and a trace of complexity that perhaps even he himself had not noticed.

No one could glimpse what this supreme ruler was truly plotting in his heart.

In the crowd, Wu Yuanchen stood dazed, as if his Soul had been drained away.

He looked at Wu Huang, who was being hurriedly carried away by imperial doctors—on the verge of death, his Foundation completely destroyed. That third brother who was once overbearing and left him gasping for air was now being carried off like a corpse that still retained some warmth. Then, he turned to look at Wu Zhenkan, who was being carefully shielded by Yun Zhi as they left, and his heart felt like a tangle of ice and fire, a complexity beyond words.

Wu Huang's miserable end filled him with the sorrow of a shared fate—if Wu Huang fell today, what about tomorrow?

Moreover, Wu Zhenkan's hidden strength and the sudden appearance of Yun Zhi were like a cold sword hanging over his heart, its tip pointed directly at his brow.

This Eighteenth Brother... had actually, without a sound, made contact with the Liuyun Dynasty!

His seemingly stable path to seizing the throne was now riddled with cracks and teetering—no, not just cracks; the very Foundation had already collapsed in silence.

On the arena, the referee once again loudly announced the result.

The voice echoed through the deathly silent arena, carrying a solemn and cruel sense of ritual, like a final, branded mark, bringing a pause to this thrilling fratricidal conflict.

Yet everyone knew—this pause was merely the prelude to the next storm.

Yun Zhi remained indifferent to the countless gazes around her, mixed with inquiry, awe, and shock.

A soft yet inviolable cloud-white halo emanated from her, as if she were draped in a veil woven from moonlight, isolating her from all prying eyes.

She carefully supported the extremely weak Wu Zhenkan, her movements as gentle as if she were holding fragile glass.

The two figures transformed into a streak of elegant light, darted straight out of the arena, and vanished into the horizon.

Leaving behind only a field of astonished gazes and the lingering aftertaste of murderous intent.

Although this battle had concluded, the frenzy it triggered was like a massive boulder thrown into the river of fate—

The ripples were sweeping across the entire Shenwu Dynasty at a terrifying speed, surging toward the wider cultivation world. Wherever they passed, undercurrents surged and the status quo was shaken.

The name "Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan," accompanied by shocking labels such as "defeating enemies of higher rank," "divine-level Formation skills," "withstanding the Imperial Extreme Tyrant Blood," "possessing an ancient killing Formation," and "having a close relationship with the Pearl of Liuyun," spread like wildfire across the land. From market teahouses to the depths of the imperial court, from Sect Secret Realms to border military camps, everyone was discussing it, and everyone was shocked.

All those with keen intuition had already realized:

The long-standing power structure of the Great Wu Dynasty was likely about to face a—seismic upheaval—because of this prince, who had been severely underestimated all along!

Deep within the Imperial Ancestral Temple lay the Ancestral Witch Altar Hall.

This place was completely isolated from the outside world, the air as stagnant as the water in an ancient well, unchanging for ten thousand years.

Only the ghostly blue witch-candle flames on the walls flickered silently, casting eerie shadows upon the twisted, ancient witch runes, as if sleeping ancient gods were opening their eyes.

Xuan Wuzi's skeletal figure stood before a Profound Heaven Mirror radiating a halo of Chaos.

The surface of the mirror rippled like water, clearly reflecting the shocking scene from the arena just moments ago—when the blood-red killing Formation bloomed like a red lotus from Hell, the terrifying Sword Intent that devoured all seemed to pierce right through the mirror, striking straight at the heart and Soul.

"Crack!"

The jade cup he was clutching tightly shattered instantly.

The jade shards slipped through his fingers, but before they could hit the ground, they were ground into dust by the pure, uncontrolled witch power overflowing from his body, vanishing into nothingness without leaving a speck of dust behind.

"The primordial... number one killing Formation?!"

Xuan Wuzi's voice trembled with an almost uncontrollable agitation, as if it were being squeezed from the depths of his chest; every word quivered.

Yet, deep within his murky eyes burst forth a nearly insane, searing radiance—the ecstasy of a seeker who had groped in the dark for a lifetime, finally beholding the first ray of dawn.

"Good... what a good Wu Zhenkan!"

"What a masterful deception!"

"To actually hide such a heaven-shocking secret... so deeply!"

His withered fingers tightened unconsciously, his knuckles emitting a faint grinding sound, like dead branches snapping in the wind.

His gaze remained locked on the mirror—though the arena was now empty, that fleeting blood-red sword Formation was seared into his mind like a branding iron, scorching his Divine Soul.

"Immortal-Slaying..."

His dry lips moved, uttering a dreamlike whisper. Each word was soaked in ancient chill and indescribable excitement, like a spell awakening from an eternal slumber.

"This is absolutely the trace of the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation!"

"Although it is only a wisp of Qi, a prototype that has yet to take full form... that supreme essence—severing Heaven and Earth, slaying Immortals and destroying gods, causing all things to return to silence—cannot be mistaken!"

"The records... they speak of this!"

Before he could finish speaking, the suppressed aura around him could no longer be contained, erupting in a violent surge—like a Vicious Beast that had slept for eternity finally opening its eyes!

Inside the altar hall, countless ghostly blue witch-candle flames swayed wildly, flickering on and off, like a dance of demons, or as if bowing in submission to some supreme power.

On the four walls, those ancient witch runes inherited from time immemorial lit up one by one, emitting a dark glow that made the Soul tremble, as if the entire altar hall were awakening.

The temperature of the entire space plummeted, as if falling into an ice cavern—not a cold felt by the body, but a trembling that rose from the depths of the Origin when the Soul was gazed upon by some ancient power.

One must know that since the end of the Primordial Era and the Great Catastrophe of Heaven and Earth, supreme killing Formations like the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation, which exist only in legends, have long been lost in the depths of the river of time. Only in a few surviving fragments of ancient texts do vague, myth-like, and sporadic records remain.

Countless Formation Grandmasters have exhausted their entire lives in pursuit of them, all like searching for a needle in a haystack, to no avail.

Xuan Wuzi had spent his entire life traversing forbidden lands and exploring ruins, pouring out his heart's blood just to find a single clue, yet he had always come up empty-handed. How many times, while sitting alone in the dead of night, had he almost suspected that it was nothing more than the delusions of the ancients?

Never in his wildest dreams did he expect—

That today, in a mere competition within this secular Imperial Dynasty, he would witness—on an obscure junior—the first ray of dawn of the legendary killing Formation reappearing in the world!

"Wu Tianba..."

Xuan Wuzi's gaze shifted abruptly, sharp as a hawk's, piercing toward the direction of the imperial palace, as if he could penetrate the layers of palaces and Formations to stare directly into the deepest secrets hidden in the eyes of the emperor seated upon the dragon throne.

"You cunning old fox..."

"Do you even know what kind of heaven-defying, world-shaking Legacy is held in the hands of this seemingly unremarkable son of yours?!"

In his mind, he replayed every detail of Wu Zhenkan activating the sword Formation—the trajectory of the finger gestures, the pathways of his Qi circulation, the order in which the Formation runes appeared, the nodes where the killing intent condensed—

Although it was a prototype, and although it was far from displaying even one ten-thousandth of its true power due to the host's low cultivation, its essence was so lofty and its Dao rhyme so ancient that it already surpassed the vast majority of ancient killing Formations known to exist in the world, even exceeding the scope of his life's research.

This could not be explained by mere Opportunity.

Behind it... must lie a heaven-shocking secret capable of shaking the Myriad Heavens and Worlds.

"This child..."

Xuan Wuzi's resolve was set like iron. The ancient witch power that had been dormant within him began to stir like a waking Dragon, slowly circulating and emitting a low, rumbling sound.

Inside the altar hall, the light of the witch runes flared, interweaving into a vast, dark network. The pressure was suffocating, as if the entire Imperial Ancestral Temple were trembling.

A massive plan, one that would mark a turning point in the fate of the Witch tribe, was rapidly taking shape in the depths of his mind—and at the center of that plan, three words were clearly engraved: Wu Zhenkan.

In the crowd, Chu Changsheng stood with his hands behind his back.

His gaze followed the receding figures of Yun Zhi and Wu Zhenkan, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing his chin. His eyes swirled with undisguised curiosity—the look a hunter wears upon discovering that their prey harbors secrets far beyond expectation.

He whispered in his heart:

"System."

"Scan."

"What exactly is the Origin of the sword Formation on Wu Zhenkan?"