Grinding Cultivation Toward Martial Saint

Chengqian Hall.

After Jiang Ning exchanged simple greetings with the three men, his Divine Thought had already spread out noiselessly.

He had only just arrived at Chengqian Hall and did not yet know what had transpired over these last two days.

Although from the situation before him he already held some faint conjectures in his heart.

But they still stopped at the level of conjecture.

The next instant.

Within a hundred li of the entire Royal Capital, the auras of all living beings lit up in his sea of consciousness like stars, arranging themselves, falling into categories.

Life fluctuations numbering in the millions surfaced densely.

The Qi-Blood of common folk was dim like fireflies, the aura of Martial Artists flaring weak or strong like campfires or furnaces.

A handful of far more powerful aggregations of energy—those were the various experts within the Royal Capital.

With just a glance, Jiang Ning locked onto Ji Xuan.

Then, his brows imperceptibly creased.

Once the auras were sorted by type, he discovered that those auras which represented Princes had almost all disappeared at this moment.

Only in the direction of Chengde Palace had one aura just dissipated, still carrying the lingering resonance of a death not long past.

He understood in his heart that a change had clearly occurred, just as he had foreseen.

The next instant.

The scene within Chengde Palace unfolded before him—it was the corpse of Ji Mingyu.

He slowly withdrew his gaze and turned to the two remaining Princes within Chengqian Palace before him.

Ji Minghao, Ji Mingyuan.

"So that is how it is." Jiang Ning’s mind became thoroughly clear, in a flash grasping the play being staged in this place.

Struggle for the Imperial Throne, brothers slaughtering one another, blood staining the inner palace.

Such things were no novelty across dynasties past, yet to witness them with his own eyes, to perceive them firsthand, still sent a thread of chill through his heart.

Then, he landed upon the floor tiles dyed red with fresh blood.

"Everyone, I already know what has happened here!" he spoke.

Hearing this, Ji Mingyuan’s heart sank.

He knew that in this place, yet another change was about to arise.

Though Jiang Ning was merely a Second-Grade Marquis, his influence and his own strength were not something an ordinary Second-Grade Marquis could compare to.

After only a brief moment of thought, Ji Mingyuan stepped forward.

"Jiang Ning, what has happened here has nothing to do with you! This is the Ji Clan’s family affair!"

Jiang Ning gave Ji Mingyuan a quiet look.

"Family affair? If it were only a family affair, why is the Mystic Sky Army encircling the palace? Why has General Shen come in person? Why are two Princes present here themselves?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across Li Tianwen, Beicang King, and Shen Xiao.

"The struggle for the Imperial Throne has never been merely a family matter. It concerns the very foundation of the realm, the peace of the world, and moreover... the future that the senior Martial Saint hoped for."

At the mention of the words "Martial Saint," everyone present stiffened in expression.

Ji Mingyuan’s face shifted slightly as he ground out, "What does Marquis Jiang mean by this? Could it be you intend to meddle in the matter of our Ji Clan’s succession?"

"Meddle?" Jiang Ning slightly shook his head. "This Marquis has no such intent. I merely happened to pass by, saw the Eighth Prince about to do something irrevocable, and spoke up to dissuade him, that is all."

He turned his gaze to Ji Minghao and said slowly, "Your Highness the Eighth Prince, put the sword down. Matters have not yet reached a dead end."

Ji Minghao’s hand that gripped the sword trembled, then slowly lowered his arm. The long sword clanged to the ground.

He understood that Jiang Ning’s arrival meant a turning point.

At the very least, he no longer needed to stake his life to prove his resolve in exchange for that sliver of hollow, illusory hope.

Seeing this, Shen Xiao secretly let out a breath of relief, and the look he cast at Jiang Ning carried a few more shades of appraisal and curiosity.

This young Dongling Marquis today gave him a feeling entirely different from the rumors.

More crucially, he could sense that the confidence Jiang Ning exuded at this moment was utterly unlike what he had felt from him before.

"Dongling Marquis, I am very curious..." Beicang King, who had not previously spoken, slowly stepped forward, and with each step he took, the air solidified, as though oppressed by some invisible force.

Then he continued, "Curious as to whence comes your confidence. You do not actually think that your mere appearance can overturn a settled outcome, do you? Do you believe that the you of today can equal either me or Divine Might King in strength? Do you imagine that simply by attaining the realm of Immortal of Primordial Spirit you can stand against the two of us? With no cultivation, with nothing but an empty realm, in an era that does not belong to you, what right have you to comport yourself thus before the two of us..."

When Beicang King spoke to this point, his gaze faintly tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly, and then two words burst from his mouth once more.

"Presumptuous—"

As the word "presumptuous" burst from his lips.

It boomed like heavenly thunder, exploding above Chengqian Palace and rolling there.

The sound echoed again and again, yet remained condensed without dispersing, never spreading to other places.

Faced with Beicang King’s tirade, Jiang Ning neither argued nor grew angry.

Instead, he slowly drew a Token from his breast.

The Token was palm-sized, its whole body a dark gold.

On the front was carved a coiling dragon figure, its Dragon Head raised high, its claws keen, its Dragon Scales vivid and lifelike.

On the back was engraved an ancient "Ji" character.

A faint luster flowed across the Token’s surface, as if life were breathing within it, and a vast, awe-inspiring aura spilled forth from it.

"The Dragon Soaring Order!!" Divine Might King Li Tianwen slowly uttered the three words, his expression growing grave.

To hold the Dragon Soaring Order was as though the Holy Emperor were personally present.

With this Token one could mobilize the Forbidden Army, and could mobilize a hundred-man Shadow Guard squad.

At this moment Jiang Ning, holding the Dragon Soaring Order, stood as the embodiment of Emperor Changning’s will.

Witnessing this, Shen Xiao’s pupils shook violently, his gaze locked unblinkingly upon that Token.

As Great General, how could he not recognize this Token.

This was forged by the founding Taizu of Great Xia, held personally by emperors of every generation, representing supreme imperial power—seeing the Token was as if the Holy Emperor stood before you.

This Token could not be granted save to one who had rendered unparalleled service or won the Emperor’s absolute trust, and was often bestowed only at the Emperor’s deathbed or in special times, as one of the symbols of entrusting his affairs!