A sound of extreme subtlety.

Though barely audible, it rent asunder the oppressive darkness that clung to the high platform. As if nothing had occurred, only Jiang Wang and Jiang Wuyong remained, their swords locked in a silent embrace. Long Xiang Si met Beauty Waist, tip to tip.

They had exchanged but a single, seemingly gentle touch.

Yet, a colossal wave of energy erupted, like a mad gale sweeping across the stage. Beneath, those with shallower cultivation swayed precariously, almost losing their footing.

Jiang Wang and Jiang Wuyong simultaneously recoiled.

Jiang Wuyong’s expression registered surprise. Clearly, he had not anticipated Jiang Wang’s ability to withstand his Purple Qi Covering the Sun palm strike and still endure his Great Qi Imperial Family sword technique. However, even as he retreated, a faint purple hue stained his eyes.

He cultivated the Great Qi Imperial Family’s supreme art, the Supreme Ziwei Midheaven Canon. This comprehensive technique encompassed swordplay, momentum, Dao arts, and pupil techniques, dominating all other sects. He was virtually without weakness, a truth that fueled his disdain for the so-called Tianfu Secret Realm victor.

Jiang Wang, however, only retreated a mere half-step before spitting out a mouthful of fresh blood, forcibly halting his momentum at the cost of injury. Above his head, now adorned with a full mane of white hair, a thorny phantom manifested. Thorns, dense and tangled, symbolizing the arduous path ahead. A searing pain surged through him, yet Jiang Wang’s eyes cleared with newfound resolve.

Dao Art: Thorn Crown!

Its effect: to amplify the power of the subsequent Dao art. Having anticipated Jiang Wuyong’s formidable strength, Jiang Wang had already prepared this technique while wielding the Sword of Sun Moon Stars. His injured retreat was a deliberate maneuver, a sacrifice to seize the initiative.

Simultaneously with the appearance of the Thorn Crown, three fiery blossoms materialized before Jiang Wuyong. In his violet pupils, he distinctly perceived that the central bloom pulsed with greater power. With a fixed gaze, that central flame’s core was deprived of its origin force, dissipating into the air. Beauty Waist then flashed forth, effortlessly slicing through the remaining two flame blossoms.

But in the very next instant, a chill ran down his spine!

For Jiang Wang was charging, sword in hand!

He hailed from the distant, humble city of Zhuang.

He had emerged from a fallen, dead domain of the netherworld.

An eighteen-year-old youth, who had journeyed alone through the states, traversing mountains and rivers, tempering both sword and heart.

Every day, he had poured forth his utmost effort.

Every step, driven by the desire for greater strength.

This sword strike… was the accumulated weight of ten thousand *li* of travel, of the mountains and rivers he had passed.

It was the embodiment of Jiang Wang himself, of all that he had experienced.

Sword of Mountains and Rivers!

Jiang Wuyong sought to evade the blade’s keen edge, but discovered he was utterly unable. The sword was too vast.

He barely managed to swing his sword in defense, but Beauty Waist was gently swept aside. This sword was too heavy. It felt as if heaven and earth had converged, mountains had crumbled, and rivers had surged forth.

Jiang Wuyong frantically searched for a solution, his mind racing through esoteric techniques. Yet, he was rooted to the spot, unable to move a single muscle. Long Xiang Si’s tip rested precisely upon the center of his brow. A mere fraction of an inch forward, and his very existence would dissolve into smoke.

He had lost!

Silence descended upon the high platform, mirrored by the hushed stillness below. A descendant of the Great Qi Imperial Family, the current Emperor’s fourteenth son, had actually been defeated in a duel by an opponent of the same realm?

Until this day, only Wang Yiwu, the disciple of the Great Qi War God Jiang Mengxiong, had publicly achieved such a feat. And his opponent had been the even more powerful Ninth Prince, Jiang Wuxie. But Wang Yiwu was no ordinary figure; he had been lauded by War God Jiang Mengxiong as the foremost talent of their generation. Thus, his victory over an Imperial Family descendant seemed within the realm of possibility.

How could this Jiang Wang compare to him?

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, utterly speechless. Lian Luyue, the elder of the Lian Clan, stared with wide eyes, unable to comprehend. Clan Leader Lian Zhuping’s expression shifted; he suddenly felt that their previously promising alliance might not be so advantageous after all.

Aside from Chongxuan Sheng, perhaps no one had foreseen this outcome.

Jiang Wang’s sword remained pointed at Jiang Wuyong. “My acceptance of this duel was solely to impress upon you that the world’s treasures are not merely for the virtuous to possess. That saying is but a pretext for forceful seizure. Treasures of the world have owners; they rightfully belong to whom they are already owned. So-called virtue should not be defined by you. Might is not virtue. Might is might, and virtue is virtue. Your use of power to oppress and seize by force is a display of lacking virtue. Your arbitrary provocations, now met with defeat, have also stripped you of might. The Great Qi Imperial Family may be noble, but you are not only without virtue, but also without might. I have witnessed it: the shame of the Qi Clan!”

The sword did not advance, but these words pierced deeper than any blade. To avoid further humiliation, Jiang Wuyong dared not move rashly, only gnashing his teeth as he retorted, “The victor is king, the vanquished is bandit. What you say, is what it is!”

Seeing the decline in his opponent’s spirit, Jiang Wang offered a faint smile and returned his long sword to its sheath.

“You even deserve to bear the surname Jiang?”

Regardless of Jiang Wuyong’s humiliation on the platform, below, Chongxuan Sheng had already extended his plump hand to the white-faced middle-aged man, like a debt collector. “Quickly! Honor the bet and concede!”

It was only when Jiang Wuyong’s accompanying grand eunuch, his face expressionless, produced two jade slips and a box containing ten thousand yuan stones, placing them into the fat hand almost pressing against his face, that Chongxuan Sheng ceased. He first inspected the jade slips, then opened the box and counted, carefully verifying that they were indeed ten high-quality pieces of ten thousand yuan stones. Only then did he burst into laughter. “Welcome back to wager again next time!”

Amidst the strange gazes of the crowd, the sedan bearers lifted the sedan once more, carrying the Fourteenth Prince away in haste.

Even after departing Nan Yao City, Jiang Wuyong’s complexion remained ashen. To be defeated in public, and branded a shame to the Qi Clan—the humiliation was unbearable! The resulting negative repercussions were a significant loss he had to confront. His heart seethed with hatred and anger, momentarily unsure of whom to vent his frustrations upon.

Finally, distanced from the throng, Jiang Wuyong shed his restraints, unable to prevent himself from gnashing his teeth and raging, “If Father Emperor were not so biased, and unwilling to impart the two strongest parts of the Supreme Ziwei Midheaven Canon, the Heaven Classic and Earth Latitude, I would not have reached this state today!”

He struck the armrest in his fury. “Even if he had allowed me to cultivate just one part, a mere Jiang Wang could have been extinguished with a flick of my hand! I would not have suffered this profound humiliation!”

“Your Highness, silence.” The grand eunuch spoke gravely. “The Heaven Classic and Earth Latitude are reserved solely for the Crown Prince.”

“Do not use empty words to deceive me!” Jiang Wuyong grew more enraged. “Then how did my third sister, ninth brother, and eleventh brother cultivate them?”

The grand eunuch spoke with difficulty, “They…”

“Nothing more than the power of their maternal families! Our Jiang Clan dynasty will sooner or later be ruined by these external relatives!”

As these words escaped his lips, the ten sedan bearers stiffened abruptly, their mouths involuntarily opening as fresh blood surged out, forming ten bloody threads that plunged into the sedan. The grand eunuch’s fingers were connected to each thread; as he gripped his ten fingers, the blood threads vanished instantly. The ten sedan bearers, along with the sedan, crashed to the ground.

Inside the sedan, the grand eunuch remained motionless. But Jiang Wuyong’s face turned exceedingly grim.

“Your Highness,” the grand eunuch’s voice was deep. “Have you considered the consequences if these words were to spread?”

“When the Ninth Prince was defeated by Wang Yiwu last year, with His Highness’s usual extremity, did you ever hear him so lose control?”

“A temporary setback is not to be feared. In this struggle for the throne, are you afraid of falling further behind? The severe loss of face today may not be without future opportunity. At the very least, the other Highnesses will lower their guard against you, no longer viewing you as a competitor.”

“But if you cannot even control this bit of emotion, repeatedly speaking improperly, we might as well leave the capital early and live as wealthy idlers. It would also prevent the old slave from one day dying alongside you on the streets, and secure a path for the hundreds of people in the palace!”

Jiang Wuyong tightly closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his composure had returned.

“I… understand!”