Lian Cheng had originally stood to the side in quiet attendance; even when the master of the desk shattered it with a single palm strike, he had not shown so much as a flicker of reaction.

Yet now, he could not help but raise an eyebrow in surprise, turning his gaze toward the imposing silhouette by the window, his eyes wide with astonishment.

“Three thousand Iron Riders defeating forty legions within the Straits, a peerless commander? Is the City Lord speaking of that very Crown Prince of the Qiantian Mountains?”

As far as he knew, it was precisely during these recent days that Zong Shou was making his passage through the Ruohai Mountain Range. And currently, several thousand Iron Riders were sworn to serve that very Prince.

“Yes and no,” Xu Zhengyuan shook his head. “Lian Cheng, do you still remember that Purple Thunder Spear? It was this very man. He possesses an unmatched ability to break formations. Leading one thousand Xuanjia Wind Dragon Riders from Xuan Mountain City and two thousand Heavy Armored Knights, he smashed through several lines of defense, and subsequently slew four Xuanwu Grandmasters, taking Feng Yu’s life. This shattered the forty-million-strong allied forces of the Blazing Flame Mountain City and the Cloud Glimmer Mountain City.”

Lian Cheng’s pupils snapped wide open; his first thought was that he had misheard.

Then, his brow furrowed: “Is this news reliable?”

“It should be accurate. It is said that when this young man took his Blood Oath, he seemed to invoke a celestial omen…”

Xu Zhengyuan looked down at the paper in his hand, and suddenly a burst of vital force erupted, causing the entire sheet to disintegrate into fine motes that scattered on the wind, drifting down into the lake outside the window.

Silence descended, and both master and servant were left with turbulent hearts, unable to settle for a long time.

After the time it took to brew a pot of tea, a light finally flickered in Xu Zhengyuan’s eyes again: “Lian Cheng, do you think this Crown Prince can unify the East Lin in the future?”

Lian Cheng seemed to have anticipated this question, showing no surprise. After a brief pause for thought, he opened his mouth: “The rise of the Zong clan has only taken a little over a decade. Although the foundation of the Qiantian Mountains is somewhat thin, through years of warfare, his subordinate generals and officers are all battle-hardened elites. With the ability of that Crown Prince, he is certainly capable of sweeping across all of East Lin. As to whether he can establish a dynasty—that Lian Cheng dares not fully judge. However, if Xuan Mountain City is added to the equation—a peerless commander serving under him—then at least the first-rate reclusive sects of the Lingfu realm will find it difficult to stop him.”

“If the first-rate Lingfu sects cannot stop him, then it must be the Holy Lands. The Lingyun Sect will surely intervene as well…”

The expression in Xu Zhengyuan’s eyes remained inscrutable, shifting rapidly between ruthlessness and hesitation, struggling fiercely. After a moment, he seemed to make a sudden, firm resolution, clenching both fists with force!

“In a few days, you will travel to the Qiantian Mountains personally. Take a formal declaration of surrender with you, and when you meet the Crown Prince, tell him that I, Xu Zhengyuan, willingly submit as his subordinate. The Cloud Saint City is also prepared to become a vassal of the Qiantian Mountains. Remember to handle this matter with discretion.”

Lian Cheng’s expression this time was entirely one of bitterness. He had foreseen this outcome, yet he still felt a twinge of unease and hesitation, wanting to advise caution but not knowing how to begin.

“I know you wish to urge me to be prudent, but over these past decades, that Crown Prince is the only hope I, Xu Zhengyuan, can see—”

As he spoke, the face of the refined middle-aged man contorted into a mask of savage coldness, his lips curled into a sneer: “Those people from the Lingyun Sect probably never dreamed that the very Prince they rejected possesses the unique gift of cultivating both Spirit and Martial paths, achieving spiritual connection through the sword, reaching the Night Roaming Spirit Master realm at the age of fourteen—making both the Sword Sect and the Cang Sheng Dao fight fiercely over him. And now, he commands a peerless general under his banner. I wonder how furious the old relics of the Danling Mountain and the Cloud Palace will be when they learn that Liang Miaozi and their favorite, the third-generation disciple Long Ruo, have been overshadowed? Hahahaha—”

He ended with a burst of manic laughter, which only subsided after a long interval. Xu Zhengyuan gently stroked his arm, which had been crippled until recently, his eyes burning with ingrained hatred.

“The Lingyun Sect, the Yin-Yang Great Law, the Withered-Glory Sword Qi—ha! Do you truly think I know nothing? Xu Zhengyuan is powerless, but in this world, there will always be those capable of handling your kind. I truly look forward to the day you clash with that Crown Prince—”

Lian Cheng, whose face had turned ashen, gradually regained his usual composed stillness. He knew his City Lord’s mind was made up; there was no possibility of changing it.

XXXX

At almost the same moment, far to the east of the East Lin Continent, atop the peak of a vast mountain city spanning hundreds of li and entirely covering a mountain nearly a thousand zhang high, the atmosphere was oppressively heavy.

A full five legions of demon race armored soldiers, each displaying distinctive features, were arrayed across the relatively spacious plaza.

Their attire was similar, all clad in uniform silver-white armor. Yet the mood was one of drawn swords and high tension; every single person had a hand resting on their weapon, scanning their surroundings nervously and watchfully. They regarded each other with hostility, as if conflict could erupt at any second.

And at the focal point of their gazes, within the Han-white jade hall bearing the plaque ‘Chongzheng Palace,’ dozens of figures sat with varying expressions. Some faces were ashen, others wore cold smiles, some looked confident, while others appeared visibly anxious.

Hu Qianqiu occupied the first seat on the left, enjoying the spectacle as he assessed the surrounding assembly.

Sitting next to him was Qiu Wei, the Great General of the Left Court Pillar of Qiantian Mountain City—lean and fierce, yet possessing a surprisingly thick frame. Like Hu Qianqiu, he was at the eighth tier of the Xuanwu realm, and currently sat with his eyes closed, as if the proceedings in the hall were of no concern to him.

Directly opposite them sat Chai Yuan, the patriarch of the Wind Bear clan, and Ling Fakong, the patriarch of the Eyeless Wolf clan.

The former was massive and powerfully built; his body, standing over ten feet tall, somehow still conveyed a sense of swift agility. The latter appeared as a handsome man in his thirties, with bright red lips and white teeth, possessing a refined and elegant bearing.

Neither exhibited many features of their beast forms; the stronger a demon’s power became, the better they could retract their true appearance, becoming indistinguishable from ordinary humans. Hu Qianqiu could also achieve this, but he was too lazy to bother with appearances.

The third seat on the left belonged to Zong Shiyuan, the Great General of the Right Court Pillar, whose face was currently iron-gray. Opposite him sat a group of Zong clan members.

Zong Ming, the Grand Elder of the Zong family, and Zong Hao, the Second Elder who also served as the Clan Commander—standing behind these two were two young men: Zong Shi and Zong Yang.

Although they held considerable sway within Qiantian Mountain and were candidates to inherit the Demon King’s throne, in this hall, they did not even merit seats, while Zong Ming and Zong Hao, being true, direct descendants of the Heavenly Fox Zong clan, had held important posts generation after generation.

However, ten years ago, they were decisively overthrown from the patriarch position by the suddenly ascendant Zong Weiran.

Further down sat several dozen others—various generals and officials from Qiantian Mountain City, along with the patriarchs of twenty stronger clans. Most of them remained silent now, acting as though the matter concerned them not at all.

The only people actively speaking in the hall were the dozen or so individuals seated at the very end.

“The position of Demon King has been vacant for nearly eight months. One or two days more is acceptable, but several months? What kind of governance is that? Heaven cannot exist without the sun, and a snake cannot be without a head. Qiantian Mountain possesses millions of strong soldiers, yet these last few months, we have been forced into a defensive crouch, allowing Blazing Flame Mountain and Cloud Glimmer Mountain to freely seize our territories—all because the City lacks a master. I believe that among the heroes of the Zong clan, only Young Master Zong Yang is qualified to inherit the Demon King’s throne. He is of the direct line of the Zong family and is fit to be the Lord of Qiantian!”

“Lord of Qiantian? Heh heh! With those words, what status do you grant Crown Prince Zong Shou? Young Master Zong Yang is indeed of the direct Zong line, but his blood relation to the Liege Lord is quite thin. Even if Crown Prince Zong Shou cannot cultivate and cannot inherit the Demon King’s throne, in terms of blood proximity, it should fall to the Great General of the Right Court Pillar!”

Before this person finished speaking, another voice coldly interjected: “Although the Great General of the Right Court Pillar is the Liege Lord’s brother, he is born of a concubine, fathered by a different mother. He has led armies ten times and been defeated four times. Had it not been for him, the Liege Lord would have long ago crushed Cloud Glimmer Mountain. How could such a person inherit the Demon King’s throne? The position of Demon King is not judged by blood alone; the future matters too. Young Master Zong Shi is the eldest grandson of the direct Zong line. At twenty years of age, he reached the Innate realm, mastering the two channels of the Earth Wheel, and is both valiant and decisive. Who in Qiantian Mountain is more qualified than Young Master Zong Shi?”

By the time the first few sentences were uttered, a subtle surge of anger swept through the hall. Zong Shiyuan’s veins visibly bulged; he opened his eyes and shot a murderous glance at the speaker below, then coldly fixed his gaze upon Zong Ming and Zong Shi.

Hu Qianqiu merely chuckled internally, scoffing. Earth Wheel, the second channel? Progress was decent, perhaps, but compared to the Crown Prince, it was still dross.

A message had been relayed from the Central Plains not long ago: the Crown Prince had reached the Night Roaming realm, having entered the Innate boundary.

To be a dual cultivator of Spirit and Martial paths—he hadn't sensed it at all during their last meeting! Just as he was silently deriding the situation, Zong Shiyuan suddenly spoke, his voice laced with cold derision: “I, Zong Shiyuan, was born of a concubine, so what are you, Zong Shi? The so-called direct, primary line of the Zong family is nothing more than a few surviving remnants. My elder brother was compassionate enough to spare your lives back then. Who would have thought that just a few years later, you would become a source of disaster! An outsider dares to harbor delusions about the Demon King’s throne.”

Zong Shi merely lifted an eyelid, his expression unchanged, only the corner of his lip lifting slightly; he offered no rebuttal.

It was Zong Ming who slowly shook his head: “Shizhen, your words are mistaken. Shi’er’s talent is indeed the pinnacle among this generation of the Zong clan. Even when the Liege Lord was alive, he praised him highly and cultivated him with all his effort. Moreover, nearly seventy percent of the clansmen in the Heavenly Fox clan currently support Shi’er. Truly, no one in Qiantian Mountain is more qualified.”

“Seventy percent? I truly wonder how you calculated that, Elder Brother.”

The speaker was Zong Hao, who let out a cold sneer: “But why is it that, to my knowledge, none of the ten Fox tribes have declared their stance? And even within our Heavenly Fox clan, nearly sixty percent still regard Zong Shou as the Crown Prince?”

“A few collateral branches—why should you concern yourself with them?”

Zong Ming stroked his white beard, suddenly recalling something with a wry smile: “Oh, right! Has there been any result regarding the matter of Zong Yuan? Did that Purple Thunder Spear truly abandon you after all? You nurtured him for nearly ten years, only for him to mature only to benefit someone else in the end. Cousin, you should reflect on that.”

Zong Hao’s expression instantly shifted, followed by a cold sneer: “Why mention a traitor? It is good that he follows Crown Prince Zong Shou. But I estimate he will never advance further in his life. I doubt he has many years left to live. You need not trouble yourself over me, Elder Brother.” (To be continued)

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