Chapter 308 - 175: Overwhelming the Heroes
Resentment, infatuation, humiliation, and a sliver of twisted anticipation all intertwined.
At this moment, Lu Maozhi desperately hoped that his brother, Lu Xuanzhou, and the Iron Sword Sect’s Li Xuance would utterly crush Chen Sheng today. ’That... would be the perfect chance to wash away my shame.’ He even started to imagine Wang Zilan’s face, full of regret, as she came begging him.
Lu Xuanzhou sensed the turmoil in his younger brother’s aura. He placed a hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice, "Maozhi, we must consider the bigger picture. Today’s battle concerns the future of our manor. You cannot let personal feelings interfere with our duty."
Lu Maozhi took a deep breath, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white. He rasped, "Brother, I understand... It’s just... I can’t get over it."
Lu Xuanzhou sighed to himself and said no more.
Soon after, the contingents from the Ning’an Wang Clan and the Iron Sword Sect arrived, one right after the other.
Patriarch Wangqingshan of the Wang Family and Sect Leader Lu Qingsong of the Iron Sword Sect arrived together, seemingly engaged in a lively and pleasant conversation.
The Wang Clan’s combatants were led by their Young Master, Wang Zhaoning, and the clan’s legitimate daughter, Wang Zilan. The Iron Sword Sect’s group was spearheaded by Li Xuance, their chief True Inheritor, who had recently broken through to the Profound Gang Realm and whose aura was at its peak. Xiong Lie and Li Xuanche followed closely behind him.
"Cousin Zilan, it seems someone over there just can’t stop thinking about you," Wang Zhaoning said teasingly, glancing toward the Luoyun Manor contingent.
Wang Zilan’s expression remained impassive, as if she hadn’t heard a word. Her gaze rested calmly on the distant horizon.
Having been snubbed, Wang Zhaoning pursed his lips and fell silent.
’He knew perfectly well that the Wang Family’s chances of securing a larger share today didn’t depend on him, but rather on Captain Chen, whose relationship with his cousin was... complicated. That’s why he had to tolerate his cousin’s coldness toward him, even if it was because of that past incident.’
A clear divide separated the young prodigies from the various sects, and the atmosphere was tense.
In contrast, the Sect Leaders and Patriarchs—Lu Canghai, Lu Qingsong, and Wangqingshan—quickly gathered together. They sipped tea and exchanged pleasantries, chatting and laughing as if their past conflicts had never occurred.
At their level, one had to maintain appearances unless there was a complete and utter falling out.
"My, you’re all here so early."
A charming laugh rang out as Bai Qing, Sect Leader of the Danxia Sect, arrived gracefully with her disciples in tow.
The Danxia Sect was currently weaker than the other major powers. However, precisely because they posed little threat, and because of their unique expertise in Alchemy and Talisman Making, they were on good terms with everyone. The various Sect Leaders all greeted her with smiles.
Bai Qing’s gaze swept casually over the still-empty seats reserved for the Government Office. A flicker of something showed in her eyes, but she quickly hid it.
"Amitabha Buddha."
The Buddhist chant echoed, accompanied by the faint sound of Sanskrit hymns.
The arrival of the contingent from Golden Spring Temple was rather conspicuous.
Leading them was none other than Monk Xuanbei, the First Seat of Prajna Hall. His face was wizened, his gaze as tranquil as an old well.
Three young monks stood in a line behind him.
The monk in the center was the most striking. He looked to be in his late twenties, with a tall, straight posture and a resolute expression.
Strangest of all were his eyebrows, which were so thick and dark they nearly formed a single line. His pupils weren’t the usual black but shone with a faint, dark-golden luster. When he blinked, a sharp light seemed to flash within them.
This was none other than Monk Fazang, ranked third among the Ning’an Ten Heroes and the number one Martial Monk under thirty from Golden Spring Temple!
At his side were Shanming and Shanyuan, both at the Earth Fiend Realm of cultivation and also considered prodigies of Golden Spring Temple’s younger generation.
"Master Xuanbei."
"Master, we are honored by your presence. Forgive us for not welcoming you sooner."
The various Sect Leaders cupped their fists in greeting, their attitudes deferential.
Golden Spring Temple was formidably powerful. This was especially true of Monk Fazang, who, before Chen Sheng’s rise, was famous alongside Zhang Daoming of Qingfeng Temple as one of the "Buddhist and Daoist Dual Masters." He was widely acknowledged as being a cut above the other young prodigies.
Although he hadn’t made a move in some time, no one dared to underestimate him.
"You are all too kind."
Xuanbei returned the gesture with a single-handed prayer position, his expression impassive.
Fazang and the other two monks bowed as well, then, without any ceremony, walked directly to the most central seats in front of the arena and sat down.
The act was domineering, yet no one questioned it. It seemed everyone was already used to the way Golden Spring Temple conducted themselves.
A few moments later, the clouds on the horizon began to ripple.
Liang Jingxing, an elder from Qingfeng Temple, arrived by walking on air. Only two people followed him.
One was Chen Yanling, the True Inheritor who had previously been defeated by Li Xuance.
The other, however, instantly drew the gazes of nearly everyone present.
He wore a faded, blue Daoist Robe, his hair tied loosely in a topknot. He appeared to be around the same age as Chen Sheng, with a detached expression and a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.
His gait was unhurried and his posture was lazy, as if he hadn’t come for a fierce battle over the allocation of resources, but for a leisurely spring stroll to visit a friend.
His identity was now obvious: he was the former number one of the Ning’an Ten Heroes, now ranked second.
Zhang Daoming, the Innate Spirit Body.
His appearance silenced the somewhat noisy grounds.
Even someone as proud and arrogant as Fazang couldn’t help but adopt a more serious gaze.
Zhang Daoming’s gaze swept lazily across the crowd before finally settling on Fazang. With a soft chuckle, his figure flickered.
Everyone’s vision blurred for an instant, and then Zhang Daoming was standing a short distance from Fazang’s side.
"I heard you spent over a month tempering yourself in the Demon Suppression Tower, hoping to break through and comprehend a Mental Realm."
Zhang Daoming’s voice was clear, tinged with a hint of curiosity. "So, did you get what you wished for?"
Fazang’s dark-golden pupils contracted slightly. He silently clenched his fists within his sleeves, but his voice remained even. "Amitabha Buddha. A Mental Realm may be profound, but it is not the only path in the Martial Dao. Even without comprehending one, I am confident that I am second to none."
’His life-or-death trial in the Demon Suppression Tower had further refined his Cultivation and perfected his Martial Techniques. He had even faintly touched the barrier to the next stage, but in the end, he’d failed to break through that final layer and truly comprehend the mysteries of a Mental Realm. Being questioned about it in public by Zhang Daoming now, a flash of resentment and anger sparked within him.’
"You have a point."
Zhang Daoming seemed to have only asked in passing. Once he got his answer, he lost interest. He leaned back lazily against a smooth, green boulder and appeared to close his eyes to rest.
This blatant display of disrespect—acting as if he wasn’t even there—only fueled the anger in Fazang’s heart. A cold glint flashed in his dark-golden eyes and was gone.
’He swore to himself that, on the arena stage later, he would force Zhang Daoming to take him seriously.’
"Looks like... the only one left is the head of the Ten Heroes from the Jingwu Bureau, huh?"
"He sure puts on airs, making everyone wait for him."
"Well, he is the head of the Ten Heroes, after all. It’s to be expected."
On the sidelines, disciples had already begun to murmur amongst themselves.
The six major sects had all arrived; only the contingent from the Government Office had yet to make an appearance.
Just then, Zhang Daoming, who had been feigning sleep, suddenly opened his eyes. He stretched lazily, his gaze turning to the northwestern sky. The enigmatic curve of his lips deepened.
"They’re here."
Fazang, all the other young prodigies, and even the sect leaders chatting on the high platform all sensed something at the same moment, turning their heads in unison.
To the northwest, several streaks of light tore through the sky. They were incredibly fast, and in the blink of an eye, they were hovering over the arena on Wushan Mountain.
The light subsided, revealing three figures.
On the left was Vice Envoy Sun Yuzhi of the Jingwu Bureau. She wore a Junior Fifth Grade Bear Official Robe, her posture was ramrod straight, and though her face was exquisitely beautiful, it was covered in a layer of frost.
On the right was Xiao Jingheng, also dressed in the official robes of the Jingwu Bureau.
And the person in the center...
He wore the standard-issue, jet-black martial robes of the Jingwu Bureau, a simple, antique long-bladed saber at his waist, and a Military Officer’s Hat on his head.
His face was young and his expression was calm. It was none other than Chen Sheng.
But what drew the most attention was the aura flowing naturally around him. It wasn’t the Evil Qi of the Earth Fiend Realm. It was a more condensed, more potent, dark-golden Gang Qi that swirled around him as if it were solid.
Profound Gang!
Sensing the undisguised, immense aura of a Profound Gang Realm Martial Master, the faces of all the young prodigies below the stage changed drastically.
Lu Xuanzhou’s pupils contracted. Li Xuance’s hand, resting on his sword hilt, tightened abruptly. Even Zhang Daoming, who had been resting with his eyes closed, sat up a little straighter, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
But it was quickly replaced by a smile.
On the high platform, the smiles of Lu Canghai, Lu Qingsong, Liang Jingxing, and the others froze on their faces. Their eyes, once filled with mirth, now held grave expressions.
Monk Xuanbei’s wizened features twitched, and his fingers tightened around his prayer beads.
’A pity,’ he sighed to himself. ’In the end, we still allowed him to grow this powerful.’
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