"He's the son of Minister of State Rocky, an incredibly arrogant fellow, but quite the sycophant. He's only around thirty and has already been titled an Imperial Earl!" Judy replied casually, a hint of disdain coloring her tone when speaking of the man.

"Earl Justin is hosting a banquet for the Seventh Prince..." A collective gasp went through the patrons of the Purple Cloud Pavilion. "Then we must leave quickly!"

"All of your current expenses will be charged to Young Master Justin. You have five minutes—hurry up and leave!" shouted a soldier leader.

The Purple Cloud Pavilion was packed; in the Imperial Capital, one could never be certain who they might offend among the powerful and beautiful guests. Thus, even while clearing the room, the soldier maintained a carefully modulated tone.

"Let's go too," Brent said, deeply versed in the ways of officialdom. Seeing everyone else making haste to leave, he stood up and addressed Chen Feng and Judy.

"Sit down!" A fierce light slowly ignited in Chen Feng's eyes, followed by words overflowing with unrestrained arrogance: "I was just thinking of testing the mettle of someone who possesses a Mid-Grade Sacred Artifact. I didn't expect him to deliver himself right to my door!"

Brent wore a bitter smile, unsure whether to stay or flee. The man in question was the son of the Seventh Prince and the Imperial Minister of State—a personage far beyond the reach of minor figures like himself. If they left, however, his cold "Big Brother" might never speak to him again. He hesitated, caught between worlds.

Ultimately, he sat back down, offering a self-reassurance: I wanted to learn to be cool. How can I ever be cool if I'm constantly timid? Big Brother is doing the right thing...

With a rising clamor, in less than three minutes, every soul in the grand hall had vanished, leaving only the three of them seated calmly by the window.

The waiter, seeing that Chen Feng’s party remained, instantly turned pale. He rushed over: "You three, leave quickly! The Seventh Prince and his entourage are arriving. If you wait, you won't be able to leave!"

"Bring our food!" Chen Feng ignored the waiter's earnest plea and stated flatly.

"But..." The waiter froze, at a loss for words.

"Go!" Chen Feng uttered a cold command, laced with a distinct note of coercion.

"Yes..." The waiter felt a sudden boom inside his head as an invisible wave of killing intent washed over him, nearly making him soil himself in fright.

In less than a minute, the waiter brought over the dishes they had ordered.

"You three, hurry up and leave! Didn't you hear what I said? Do you want me to have men drag you out?"

"Tap-tap..." The sound of military boots striking the floor echoed—a perfectly synchronized squad of soldiers surrounded the trio. These soldiers were all low-level Battle Masters, the highest barely reaching the Third Level. However, their uniformity, spirited posture, and the dense killing aura they projected still carried considerable menace.

Brent’s expression shifted several times; he nearly bolted for an escape route, but catching sight of his unmoving "Big Brother," he violently suppressed the panic clawing at his heart and remained seated, not daring to move.

Chen Feng’s expression remained utterly unchanged. He sat perfectly still, savoring the newly arrived delicacies, paying the soldiers not the slightest heed.

"Did you not hear me speak? You three, get out!" The soldier leader’s anger began to rise slightly.

"Scram!" Chen Feng spat the single word toward the soldier leader.

"You’re courting death!" The leader, enraged beyond measure, swung his longsword—still in its sheath—down violently toward Chen Feng’s head!

The longsword stopped dead when it was still more than half a foot from Chen Feng’s skull; an iron hand had seized it fast. The leader felt as if the sword were rooted in the ground, firmly trapped in the grip of the youth beneath it. He strained with all his might, pulling upward, his muscles knotting like bulging bark as Battle Qi surged along his arm. He roared: "Rise—"

"You still have some strength left," Chen Feng said with a slight smile, releasing his grip.

"Bang..." The leader had not expected Chen Feng to let go at that moment. Caught off guard, the sword, carried by inertia, swung backward along the arc of his own arm and smashed directly onto his own head, drawing immediate blood.

"Aah... Aah..." The leader shrieked, pointing a finger at Chen Feng as he roared at the surrounding soldiers: "Charge!"

Seeing their leader injured, the soldiers were righteously indignant and charged forward without hesitation. Chen Feng remained seated, not even bothering to lift his body. With one hand grabbing one soldier, any man he touched had their arm snapped, falling to the ground screaming.

Before a minute had passed, all thirty or forty soldiers lay writhing on the floor.

The soldier leader, surveying his screaming subordinates, knew the red-haired youth sitting calmly possessed an unfathomable cultivation level. Screaming in frustration, he charged forward again.

"A bunch of trash!" Chen Feng declared with savage arrogance. With a casual hook, he caught the leader's arm and, with a sharp crack, broke that limb as well.

"Stop! Who are you..." A loud shout echoed from the entrance.

Chen Feng knew the main players had arrived. Without sparing the soldier leader another glance, he flicked his wrist. The pathetic man shot out like a cannonball, flying directly toward the source of the shouting outside the door.

"Insolent—"

The shout was immediately followed by another, and a figure flashed in from outside, catching the—

Though Chen Feng had thrown him casually, the sheer brute force he possessed, combined with the soldier leader’s own momentum, meant that catching him required a power of at least several thousand pounds. This incoming figure caught him easily without even a step of recoil, testifying to profound strength.

The one who caught the soldier leader was a black-robed man—not tall, lean and solid, radiating coiled strength. After securing the leader, he placed him gently on the ground, stepped back a few paces, revealing the two individuals behind him.

This black-robed man was merely a bodyguard.

To the left was a man slightly heavy-set, appearing to be in his thirties, clad in luxurious silks—this must be Justin. To the right stood a man with a cold demeanor, wearing white robes of refined magic, exuding an air of aristocratic grace—undoubtedly the Seventh Prince.

Justin surveyed the wreckage, the soldiers all moaning on the floor, and a killing intent flashed across his face. "Who are you people? Why have you assaulted my soldiers?"

Chen Feng erupted into loud laughter, as if he had just heard the world's greatest joke. When the laughter subsided, he rose and fixed his gaze on Justin: "These wretches tried to throw me out, so this is what happened."

"You..." Justin’s anger surged. "Who are you?"

The fact that this person dared to attack Imperial soldiers in the capital suggested a considerable background. Acting rashly now could easily lead to his own defeat. Having navigated the labyrinth of officialdom for so long, Justin understood these nuances. Thus, despite his fury, he forced the rage down and demanded the man's identity.

Chen Feng extended his right hand; a ball of azure flame ignited on his fingers. He toyed with the flame, speaking softly: "You are not worthy to know who I am!" He then turned his attention to the white-robed youth beside Justin, his words dripping with contempt: "Are you the Seventh Prince?"

The Seventh Prince gazed at the flame on Chen Feng’s finger, his eyes alight with fierce desire. "I am!"

"Good. I hear you possess the Talisman Sword and Dragon Armor. Did you bring them?" Chen Feng inquired.

"The Talisman Sword and Dragon Armor were bestowed by my father for the New Talent Competition. How could I carry them around casually?"

"Then this is pointless," Chen Feng shook his head, a note of genuine disappointment in his voice. "Without the Talisman Sword and Dragon Armor, your strength is lacking, and you fail to pique my interest!"

Saying this, he turned to Judy and Brent: "Let's go!" He took two quick strides to stand before the Seventh Prince and smiled. "I hope you achieve a good ranking in the New Talent Selection Tournament. Don't disappoint me by being eliminated!"

The blatant provocation sent the Seventh Prince into a rage. "Hmph! Even without the Talisman Sword and Dragon Armor, I can still handle you!"

He stopped replying, instead flinging two orbs of magical light directly toward Chen Feng’s face. Simultaneously, he channeled his Battle Qi, and his feet propelled him forward like a meteor, aiming a powerful punch. The Seventh Prince was a dual practitioner of magic and martial arts, and combining the two greatly amplified his power.

Chen Feng, relying on his Fist Emperor techniques, could easily overcome a First Level Battle Master, thus he dismissed the Seventh Prince's cultivation level with disdain. He raised his flame, unleashing a Ghost Burn.

"Bang!" The Seventh Prince's punch and magic were entirely blocked and thrown back. The impact of the Ghost Burn sent him soaring backward, crashing out of the Purple Cloud Pavilion’s main doors.

The punch of an Eighth Level Battle Master was utterly nullified in a single exchange against Chen Feng. Both Justin and the black-robed bodyguard behind him showed looks of astonishment.

"The much-touted champion favorite is this fragile?" Chen Feng shook his head, appearing somewhat crestfallen.

The Seventh Prince rose. Instead of anger or frustration clouding his cold features, a sliver of manic fighting spirit emerged.

"No wonder he reached the Eighth Level as a dual cultivator. This Seventh Prince is also obsessed with cultivation," Chen Feng realized, looking at the Prince. "Without the Talisman Sword and Dragon Armor, you are absolutely no match for me. Though you possess fighting intent today, it hasn't reached its peak. I look forward to your performance in the Selection Tournament."

With that, he walked out the door and continued on his way, ignoring the rest of the group.

"You think you can just leave after injuring my men?" Justin’s fleshy face twitched violently. He pointed a finger at Chen Feng: "Kill him for me!"

The black-clad man behind him bowed. "Yes!" He darted forward like an arrow toward Chen Feng.

Chen Feng kept his back to the black-clad man, merely turning his head slightly to the side, and flicked out an Oblique Hook.

Azure flames hissed and traveled along the ground. The black-clad man clenched his fist, and white, misty Battle Qi instantly materialized around it.

"Break!" the black-clad man roared. The Battle Qi and the flame met, neutralizing each other instantly.

"I didn't expect you to actually possess the cultivation of a First Level Battle Master," Chen Feng turned, fixing his gaze on the man, and stated plainly. The ability to release white-mist Battle Qi strong enough to dispel his Oblique Hook proved the man was a Battle Master. However, the relative clumsiness in his control of the white mist indicated he was only a First Level Battle Master.

Justin, seeing Chen Feng's flame held off the black-clad man’s attack, surveyed the surroundings, then suddenly shouted: "All of you, attack!" As his voice fell, a series of ripples sounded in the surrounding air—unexpectedly, six or seven hidden masters were concealed nearby! (To be continued, for future events, please log on to www.ncom for more chapters, support the author, and support genuine reading!)