On the pitch-black Great Yan Mountain, torches hissed and burned, watched by thousands upon thousands of soldiers looking toward the seventeen-year-old youth.

"I, Teng Qingshan, hereby renounce the Guiyuan Sect!"

Seemingly treasonous, yet the numerous Xiantian experts present understood perfectly the choice Teng Qingshan had made! If Teng Qingshan had sought self-preservation, the three thousand Black Armored troops could have tied down a significant number of Xiantian experts. Zhuge Yuanhong might well have been able to flee the scene with Teng Qingshan.

But doing so would have cast the Guiyuan Sect into extreme peril.

And now... one declaration of ‘renouncing the Guiyuan Sect,’ one assertion of ‘having no further relation,’ left others without pretext to move against the sect. Yet, Teng Qingshan himself was now plunged into absolute crisis. Alone, facing a large contingent of Xiantian experts, he was a lamb surrounded by a wolf pack.

"Qingshan... Master, I have failed you," Zhuge Yuanhong thought silently, his eyes closing in pain, never speaking a word.

"He truly possesses courage," praised Ying Haojiang, the leader of the Ying Clan.

"A true man. If he must die, let it be swift. We cannot allow the people of Qinghu Island to torture him slowly," a rough, powerful voice boomed from the experts of the Sun-Shooting Divine Mountain.

Teng Qingshan’s gaze swept over the massive assembly of Xiantian experts before him, a strange smile touching the corner of his lips.

"You people of Qinghu Island wish to kill me." Teng Qingshan pointed at the five figures from Qinghu Island; Gu Yong and the others wore grim faces. If not for the sheer number of Xiantian experts present, the few of them would have already attacked. "Gu Yong, stop wearing that mournful look. Only eight Enforcement Elders died, yes? I imagine you’ll see far more elders perish."

Gu Yong’s expression turned cold: "Hmph. Arrogant even as death approaches."

Teng Qingshan shook his head and smiled faintly.

"The esteemed members of the Mani Temple, you also desire those two tripods, do you not." Teng Qingshan moved next toward the group of Arhats from the Mani Temple. Those figures stood silently, offering no comment. "Remaining silent, it seems you all tacitly agree. Seeking the two tripods of the 'Spirit of the North Sea' is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ying Clan, Sun-Shooting Divine Mountain, Snow Eagle Sect, Hongtian City."

Teng Qingshan walked step by step, until he reached the experts from Hongtian City situated at the very edge.

"You all covet the two tripods of the 'Spirit of the North Sea.' Tell me, who should I give them to? This truly presents a dilemma." Teng Qingshan surveyed the surrounding crowd. At this moment, the thousands upon thousands present were eerily silent—not a single person spoke. All eyes watched Teng Qingshan, occasionally flicking toward the assembled Xiantian experts.

"How about you all try guessing the stones?" Teng Qingshan crouched down, picking up three small stones from the ground.

The multitude of Xiantian experts paused in surprise.

"I hold three small stones in my hands total. Each of your sects gets one chance. Guess how many stones are in my left hand, and how many in my right? The one who guesses correctly will receive both tripods." A mocking smile played on Teng Qingshan’s lips, yet the expression sent a chill down the spine.

"Nonsense," the Tenth Elder of the Snow Eagle Sect frowned deeply.

"Teng Qingshan, stop this theatrics," the long-browed old monk stated indifferently. Claiming the two tripods was not a matter to be decided by a game of chance. His Mani Temple possessed the strongest power here; why would he rely on luck?

"So uninteresting, none of you are willing to guess." Teng Qingshan rose to his feet. "I shall announce the answer then..."

Teng Qingshan’s smile was dazzling. His left and right hands moved almost simultaneously in an instant.

Three phantoms tore through the air!

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The three small stones, accompanied by a piercing whistle and visible spatial ripples, left three blurred trails of light, instantly traversing over thirty zhang and enveloping the unprepared, astonished 'Gu Shiyou.'

Gu Yong’s face changed drastically.

But he was over ten zhang to Teng Qingshan's left, while Gu Shiyou stood more than thirty zhang to Teng Qingshan's front-right. Gu Yong and the others had absolutely no means to intercept the three stones. With the sheer force generated by Teng Qingshan’s hands, the three stones acted like cannonballs, piercing the space. Amidst a cry of terror—

"No!" Gu Shiyou didn't even have time to flee; there wasn't a single Xiantian expert near him.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The three stones pierced Gu Shiyou’s left chest, abdomen, and thigh, respectively, leaving three horrifying bloody holes from which blood poured out. Since the head wasn't struck, Gu Shiyou’s life force was strong enough that he didn't die instantly.

"W-why?" Gu Shiyou stared at Teng Qingshan.

A flicker of cold light crossed Teng Qingshan's eyes.

His father and the others had been forcibly taken by Gu Shiyou back then, coupled with Qingqing’s death this time... Teng Qingshan had already passed the death sentence on Gu Shiyou in his heart!

With a crash, Gu Shiyou’s body collapsed. Teng Qingshan continued to chuckle lightly, curling his lip, "You must all know the answer to the stone game now. The answer is—" Teng Qingshan lifted both hands, "Zero stones in my left hand. And zero stones in my right!"

"Teng Qingshan, you court death!"

Gu Yong, his face contorted, roared even as his figure shot forward.

"Stop!" A great shout rang out.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Dozens of figures surged out almost simultaneously, blocking the path directly in front of Teng Qingshan—the experts from the Ying Clan, Sun-Shooting Divine Mountain, and various other factions.

"Everyone, Teng Qingshan killed my son Shiyou. This hatred cannot be shared under the same sky!" Gu Yong roared bitterly.

"Teng Qingshan cannot be killed," Ying Haojiang commanded coldly.

"Island Master Gu, please compose yourself," the long-browed old monk said calmly.

Gu Yong stared at Teng Qingshan, standing behind the crowd of Xiantian experts. Teng Qingshan was smiling at him, but that smile chilled Gu Yong to the bone: "Just now, he deliberately walked right up to the expert from Hongtian City at the very edge, ensuring that when danger struck, this group would have ample time to block us Qinghu Island forces. Guessing stones? It was nothing more than an excuse to murder my son! But I didn't realize it! This Teng Qingshan's methods are indeed formidable; he must possess a secret technique to channel Xiantian True Essence into stones without causing them to shatter."

A figure blurred into motion.

The long-browed old monk instantly appeared beside Teng Qingshan, fixing him with a stare: "Teng Qingshan, you must know. If you don't hand over the two tripods, you will wish for death. You are a responsible man. Hand over the two tripods, and my Mani Temple will grant you a swift death, free of suffering."

"Then I thank you," Teng Qingshan cupped his hands in salute. "Old monk, your movement technique is the best I have ever witnessed among men."

"It is nothing worth mentioning," replied the long-browed old monk.

"I will immediately lead you all to retrieve those two tripods." Teng Qingshan looked around at the assembled Xiantian experts. "Before that, I must reclaim my personal weapon. Even in death, I must hold it." Teng Qingshan’s voice suddenly soared high. He looked toward the Black Armored Army in the northeast. "Brother Tian Dan, would you be so kind as to bring me the Reincarnation Spear!"

His voice echoed across the night sky.

"Good!" A loud shout responded. Tian Dan burst out from the ranks of the Black Armored Army and rushed toward the military camp, soon returning with the two broken sections of the Reincarnation Spear.

All eyes focused on Teng Qingshan and Tian Dan.

"Brother Qingshan," Tian Dan stood before Teng Qingshan, solemnly handing over the two halves of the Reincarnation Spear. "Be careful."

"If I die, next year, at the place of my passing, offering a stick of incense and pouring a cup of wine will suffice." Teng Qingshan said with a slight smile as he took the Reincarnation Spear, rejoining the two pieces, and then announced loudly, "Everyone... don't you wish to obtain the two tripods of the 'Spirit of the North Sea'? Follow me!"

Teng Qingshan strode forward resolutely. The Xiantian experts from the major sects followed closely. With so many Xiantian Golden Elixirs present, they had no fear of Teng Qingshan escaping.

"Follow them!" Gu Yong waved his hand.

The entire Silver Flood Dragon Army followed in a vast, imposing procession.

At this moment, Teng Qingshan, leading at the very front, seemed like a general leading his great army forward.

...

Zhuge Yuanhong was half-kneeling before Qingqing’s body.

"Qingqing!" Zhuge Yuanhong murmured softly. "It is Father who has failed you, failing to protect you, and failing to protect Qingshan! You were a good child, and Qingshan is also a good child... Blame your father, I lacked the strength to protect either of you." The tears that began to form were instantly evaporated by his Xiantian True Essence.

Yan Motian stood silently beside him.

"Sect Master," Yan Motian’s voice was hoarse. "When I was young, like Qingshan, I came from the countryside. Bandits and brigands ran rampant; every year many of my clan members died. My father died when I was six, and my mother passed from illness when I was eleven. From that time, I understood. In this chaotic age, without sufficient power, one can only watch helplessly as loved ones die. That is why I cultivated diligently and later joined the Guiyuan Sect... It is the same between the great sects! The Eight Great Sects dare not initiate major conflict because they are wary of each other, but they utterly despise our Guiyuan Sect. If... if Qingshan belonged to the Ying Clan, or was a disciple of the Yu Emperor Gate, or hailed from the Mani Temple, would anyone dare treat him this way? The fault lies only in us not being strong enough."

Zhuge Yuanhong stood up, looking into the distance at the hazy silhouettes of the Qinghu Island Silver Flood Dragon Army soldiers.

"I understand."

"Because our strength is insufficient, Qingshan must face all of this alone." Zhuge Yuanhong smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "I, as his Master, am truly unworthy to be a master, unworthy to be a father. My daughter is dead, and as her father, I must endure. When facing this crisis... as his Master, I could only allow my disciple to announce his departure from the sect and bear the burden by himself."

Zhuge Yuanhong’s face was somewhat pale.

"Sect Master," Yan Motian frowned and spoke sharply. "Yuanhong! Snap out of it. You have done enough. You are the Sect Master of the Guiyuan Sect! Everything you do must be for the thousand-year foundation of our sect, for the hundreds of thousands of people in our sect. This is not your fault."

Zhuge Yuanhong nodded, then turned to look behind him. Large numbers of Black Armored soldiers were carrying the bodies of their comrades, while others were severely wounded.

Zhuge Yuanhong sighed deeply. "From ancient times until now, from the lowliest mountain folk and commoners, up to the myriad martial artists of the great sects—the victor is king, the defeated is outlaw! Among the commoners, one must protect their lineage. Mountain bandits must also strengthen the forces of their own strongholds. And martial sects must raise their status high, ideally securing a place among the Eight Great Sects!"

"Some conceal their ambitions for decades, merely waiting for the moment to spread their name throughout the world."

"Some wander the world alone, tempered by life and death, immersed in endless slaughter, solely to pursue the pinnacle."

"Some gather gangs, leading men to rob and pillage, whistling through the mountains, becoming local emperors."

"And some harbor vast ambitions, seeking to establish a powerful martial sect, controlling tens of millions of citizens, and building a heritage spanning a thousand years."

Zhuge Yuanhong looked at the scattered arrows and the dark red bloodstains on the ground.

"This is the chaotic age!" Zhuge Yuanhong whispered softly.