Even Tianfu Fairy finally understood the gravity of the person Feng Zikang killed that day. She grew somewhat fearful when he announced he was going to the palace, pulling at the sleeve of his robe, desperate not to let him go.

"Don't worry, I'm just going to have a little chat with the Emperor," Feng Zikang smiled faintly, reassuring her.

The men who came to escort him could only shake their heads, caught between laughter and tears. Only Feng Zikang could utter such words. Having just slain the Emperor’s son, the Crown Prince, he casually claimed it was merely a chat.

Yet, most people had already guessed the outcome. Even the supreme Emperor could not truly control the cultivators, especially not Feng Zikang, heralded as the foremost of the third generation of disciples and the destined one for this tribulation! The death of the Crown Prince, perhaps, could only be accepted as bad luck.

The entire court, the civil and military officials, thought precisely this.

Feng Zikang proceeded into the palace and waited in a side hall. He was the slayer of the Crown Prince. The palace eunuchs and maids were terrified, their souls nearly fled from their bodies, yet they dared not neglect their duties, attending to him with meticulous care.

Not long after, the Emperor emerged, Grand Tutor Pang attending closely by his side. Seeing Feng Zikang, the Grand Tutor gave him a slight nod.

Feng Zikang, however, was studying the Emperor. This ruler was known as a mighty sovereign. In his youth, he had been a formidable warrior on the battlefield, unmatched in vigor. After ascending the throne, he governed with diligence, and the Great Tang gradually displayed signs of a golden age. Though now aged, his bearing and imposing aura remained undiminished.

Alas, his face was drawn and withered with age. It seemed the recent events had struck him deeply.

"You are Feng Zikang?"

His tone was anything but polite. Who would show courtesy to the man who murdered his own son? To do so would be less than human. However, besides being a father, he was, more importantly, the Emperor of the Great Tang. He knew what he could and could not do.

"I am Feng Zikang, a disciple of the Military Strategist School from Longhu Mountain!"

Feng Zikang rose, nodding to the Emperor, neither subservient nor overbearing. Cultivators owed no fealty to an earthly ruler.

"You killed my son?"

The Emperor’s face darkened, his tone chillingly cold.

"Yes!"

Feng Zikang nodded. This was a known fact, one the Emperor himself was aware of; further discussion felt pointless. He aimed for brevity.

The Emperor sighed, a wry smile touching his lips. "As the Emperor, I cannot avenge my son. I am truly useless..." A look of desolation washed over his face.

Grand Tutor Pang cleared his throat softly, and only then did the Emperor shake off his melancholy.

"That is all. You may leave." He waved his hand, suddenly leaping down from the Dragon Throne in irritation, and retreated to his chambers alone.

Feng Zikang sighed inwardly. Being Emperor seemed a miserable existence—unable to marry the woman he loved, unable to seek revenge for his dead son. What was the point? If this ruler had been mediocre, it would be one thing. But this Emperor possessed rare talent and had achieved much; how could he tolerate such powerlessness?

Suddenly, Feng Zikang felt he had dimly grasped the turning point of a massive cosmic shift.

"Nephew," Grand Tutor Pang approached. Though his expression wasn't exactly joyous, he seemed markedly relaxed. "His Majesty has agreed not to pursue the matter further. His only desire today was to see you."

"We of the Three Teachings unanimously advised His Majesty against escalating the conflict. We suggested claiming the Prince died of a sudden illness and strictly forbade the spreading of this news."

"Thank you, Grand Tutor Pang!" Feng Zikang bowed slightly. "And thank you to all the esteemed elders of the Three Teachings. Did they all speak on my behalf before the throne?"

"Naturally." Grand Tutor Pang nodded, then sighed. Even the Confucian school, which held the established order most sacred, had reached a consensus: they must counsel the Son of Heaven to suppress the matter. Otherwise, cosmic upheaval might erupt, and internal strife among the cultivation world would be disastrous.

Feng Zikang’s expression shifted subtly as he meticulously analyzed the Emperor’s psychology. When facing him just now, he had instinctively sensed a powerful surge of malevolent resentment, yet the Emperor managed to suppress it. This mortal was not simple.

If possible, Feng Zikang even contemplated killing the Emperor to eliminate future trouble. But he knew that goal was nearly unattainable. The Emperor bore the Mandate of the True Dragon; destiny resided with him, and interfering lightly was ill-advised. Moreover, with the protection of the Three Teachings, he certainly would not succeed.

Feng Zikang nodded. "Since that is the case, I shall leave the capital within a few days and return to Longhu Mountain. Grand Tutor Pang, you must take good care of yourself while in court."

He had grasped the general situation in Chang'an and understood the Emperor's state of mind. Now, it was a matter of waiting to see what actions this wise and mighty Emperor would take following this major incident. Staying in Chang'an now offered no further benefit. He needed to return quickly to cultivate diligently and prepare for the great cosmic tribulation due within three years.

Grand Tutor Pang also nodded. At this juncture, Feng Zikang remaining in the capital would show too little respect to the Imperial family. It was best he return and enter seclusion until the matter settled down, and then all would be well. After all, he was merely a Crown Prince. Cultivators spent decades in closed cultivation; the brief lifespan of a mortal was perhaps the span of a single breath to them. What consequence was it?

Feng Zikang took his leave, coaxing Tianfu Fairy that Longhu Mountain was fascinating and inviting her to stay a while. Tianfu Fairy, now deeply trusting and reliant on him, did not hesitate and left with him.

Feng Zikang packed his belongings and piloted his cloud chariot toward the Military Strategist domain on Longhu Mountain.

"Brother Zikang, is the Xuan Realm really as fun as you say?"

Feng Zikang's primary goal in enticing Tianfu Fairy was, in fact, the Xuan Realm. The vital energy in the Xuan Realm had waned, and restoring it required immense magical power—a feat beyond Feng Zikang’s current cultivation level. However, if the realm could regenerate and recover naturally through its inherent energy, that would be entirely different.

He intended to ask Tianfu Fairy to reside permanently in the Xuan Realm, helping it create and flourish. Since the little girl had lived alone before, this hardly counted as mistreatment, especially as she would have the Ghost King Tu and Zhu Li'er for company later. It wouldn't be so lonely there. He could occasionally take her out for amusement before returning.

"Of course. In time, the sun, moon, stars, and all of creation will slowly generate. It will be incredibly fun."

Tianfu Fairy lacked the innate ability to completely transform the Xuan Realm, but bringing life back to the surrounding area was certainly achievable over time. She pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Feng Zikang was overjoyed, laughing loudly, when a harsh shout rang out ahead: "Murderer! How dare you be so arrogant, have you no fear of heavenly retribution?"

Feng Zikang peered ahead and saw a crimson figure hovering in the air, about three hundred zhang away, blocking the path of the cloud chariot. He narrowed his eyes, his expression unchanged. "Who are you, sir? What is your purpose in blocking my way?"

"Sharp words are useless," the crimson figure sneered coldly. "If your friends and mentors possessed any ability, they would be here seeking vengeance." His tone was supremely confident, as if he already regarded Feng Zikang as a dead man.

Feng Zikang’s demeanor grew solemn, and he slowly stood up. This person was different from his previous opponents. He exuded a powerful aura. Perhaps his cultivation level was slightly inferior to Mou Canglang of the Core Condensation stage, but his practical combat ability and raw power far surpassed that superficial fellow! Feng Zikang had a distinct feeling that this person was genuinely capable of threatening his life.

"Let the young lady go first. I will await you a thousand li away, or you will only slow me down and die faster," the man's voice remained cold. Feng Zikang nodded once, offering no rebuttal.

"Fairy, you should go first!" He nudged Tianfu Fairy. "Pilot the cloud chariot and wait for me a thousand li from here."

Tianfu Fairy obediently understood that staying would only be a burden. She nodded. "Brother Zikang, you must come!" With a gentle flick of the reins, she steered the cloud chariot far away.

The crimson figure nodded in satisfaction. "Now, we can finally have a proper fight... Young man, do not disappoint me!"

Feng Zikang inclined his head slightly. Without any visible preparatory movements, tens of thousands of sword lights enveloped his body, forming a faint golden arc.

"Then I shall have to request your guidance, senior!"

"Good!" The man made no pleasantries. Praising him, he suddenly threw a punch aimed directly at Feng Zikang’s face. It seemed like an indifferent strike, yet it carried a world-encompassing, domineering force, manifesting as myriad phantom fists filling the air! Essence, Qi, and Spirit—condensed into a single point, the might of this one punch rivaled Mount Tai! His figure vanished within the storm of punches; an ordinary person touched by this sheer force would be instantly reduced to dust!

Feng Zikang’s expression was grim. Ten thousand sword energies intercepted the attack before him.

"Break! Break!" Harsh shouts echoed from behind the mass of fist shadows. Under these cries, those unbreakable sword energies were shattered one by one!

"Clang!"

Just as the punch was about to make contact with Feng Zikang, the ten thousand sword energies suddenly condensed back into their true form: a single broken, iron sword blade stood firm before Feng Zikang, unmoving, blocking the overwhelming, heaven-swallowing punch.

Feng Zikang stood steadily, his robes fluttering lightly. The crimson figure recoiled after driving his right fist against the sword edge, a flicker of appreciation now on his face.

"Good! Good sword, and even better swordsmanship!" The crimson figure withdrew his fist, flying back about ten zhang, and they settled into opposing stances.

"What is the name of your sword technique?" he asked casually.

Feng Zikang held his sword upright, his gaze unwavering. "My sword technique is called the Starlight Great Extinction Sword Art Divine Ability. It comprises one thousand three hundred and fifty forms. One sword strike extinguishes one star; ten thousand swords unleashed annihilate constellations. What does senior think?"

"Excellent!" The crimson figure gave him a thumbs-up. "Based on that sheer audacity, this technique qualifies as supreme. I never expected that after centuries in seclusion, such a sword art would emerge in this world."

"Oh?" Feng Zikang had assumed this man was sent by the Great Tang Emperor to kill him. But if the man had been in seclusion for centuries, he likely had no connection to the current Emperor. Could he be someone else entirely?

"And what is the name of your fist technique, senior?" Feng Zikang, puzzled, tried to probe the crimson figure's background indirectly.

"Ha ha! My fist technique is also unmatched in this world, something I have painstakingly created during my centuries of isolation... Youngster, if you think you can learn my origin from that, you are mistaken!" The crimson figure immediately saw through his attempt. Feng Zikang merely smiled faintly.

"I haven't named my fist technique yet, but every punch integrates my self with heaven and earth to unleash my strongest strike. Furthermore, the power of each strike accumulates into the next. Although you blocked the first punch, my second punch will be exactly double the strength of the first, and the third double the second, continuing infinitely. Boy, just think—how many of my punches can you withstand?"

The crimson figure laughed coldly. Feng Zikang rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Senior, you jest. With your power level, even if this technique doubles its strength endlessly, how many punches can you yourself deliver? Such a divine ability that doubles power requires an extremely high demand on one's own body. Doubling the strength means doubling the backlash received. His body isn't forged from steel; how many hits can he endure?"

The crimson figure paused, then burst into loud laughter. "Boy, you are quite clever. Indeed, with my current cultivation, I can only unleash seven punches. But with your cultivation, can you withstand the fourth?" His assessment was accurate; Feng Zikang estimated that if he took the hits directly, he could only manage the fourth punch at best.

"If I can't withstand it..." Feng Zikang smiled faintly, "I won't give you the chance to keep punching! Long Que, come out!" With a mighty roar, he stepped back as Long Que lunged forward fiercely, blazing light emanating from its eyes, its five claws sweeping out five golden beams that tightly bound the crimson figure.

"Not bad, this is a mechanism beast?" The crimson figure exclaimed in surprise, smashing Long Que away with one punch. "A disciple of the Military Strategist School actually uses mechanism beasts? Truly remarkable..."

"Four Symbols Divine Demon Array!" Feng Zikang gave him no chance to recover, summoning four Divine Demons to surround the attacker. While this couldn't hold the opponent for long, if the situation turned dire, Feng Zikang could use this opportunity to flee, just as he had planned against Mou Canglang.

"Good!" The crimson figure’s eyes flashed as he regarded the four Divine Demons, uttering 'Good' once more. "These four demons are brimming with spirit and vitality. Boy, you actually have such trump cards! It has been many years since I’ve seen such powerful Divine Demons. Impressive!"

He rubbed his wrists, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "However,"

"Under the might of my fist technique, these Divine Demons are insufficient!"

He roared and swung another punch. The force permeated the heavens, twice the power of the first blow! The four Divine Demons were at the epicenter of the punch's force. They roared fiercely, their massive bodies beginning to shatter inch by inch!

The punch struck! The four Divine Demons crumbled like figures made of sand, blasted into dust! Only four remnants drifted slowly in the air.