"I never wanted to be emperor, Brother. If you desire the throne, I'll yield it to you!"
"In this world, only Father and you are my kin. I truly don't want to lose you over such trivial things," Xiao Nuo'er sobbed, tears streaming down her face.
The Barren Marsh Prince's expression flickered with a flicker of pain, but it was quickly washed away by greed. "Silly girl—do you think the throne is yours to give? Countless powerful fiends covet it. By then, you won't have a choice."
"The only way to stay by my side… is to die."
"Then the Si Kong clan's direct bloodline will be mine alone. The family will have no choice but to crown me emperor. For the throne… family ties mean nothing."
With that, the prince leaped over the chaotic crowd, drawing a golden silk soft sword from his waist. Its blade glinted menacingly as he aimed it at Xiao Nuo'er's forehead.
"Filthy beast-spawn—daring to lay a hand on Xiao Nuo'er? Do you think I'm not here?!"
Zhao Ping'er yanked Xiao Nuo'er behind her, unsheathing the Autumn Water Longsword she'd spent a fortune repairing. With a fierce cry, she lunged at the prince's sword.
"Clang!"
The blades clashed, sending a sharp ring echoing through the air. A hidden surge of force rippled along the golden sword, slamming into the prince and hurling him backward to the ground.
"Master—so cool!" Zhao Ping'er grinned, sheathing her sword.
But Zhao Xunan shot her a warning glare. "You don't know a lick of swordsmanship—charging in like that is suicide. Couldn't you use lightning techniques?"
"I forgot," the girl shrugged, earning a shake of his head.
"Master… boo-hoo!" Xiao Nuo'er buried her face in Zhao Xunan's chest, sobbing. Since their pulse-reading session, she'd felt an unspoken warmth in him—gentler than her father's, more familiar. She craved his comfort.
"Don't cry. With me here, no one can harm you," Zhao Xunan soothed, stroking her hair.
The prince scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his robe. His gaze hardened. "Big words for a nobody. The fiend powers that intersect with the Great Qin court are watching. When the time comes, you won't have a say."
"Try me," Zhao Xunan said, eyes narrowing.
The prince scoffed, tossing aside his golden sword. "Fine. Let's see if you're as tough as you talk."
Zhao Xunan glanced at the fallen sword. "Silly girl—pick that up. Even if it's broken, it's worth a fortune for a door latch."
"Coming right up!" Zhao Ping'er bounded over, snatching the sword.
The prince's eyes blazed. "You dare ignore me?!"
He roared, his body swelling and contorting. In seconds, he transformed into a half-human, half-tiger fiend, silver fur bristling as he charged.
Zhao Xunan shoved Xiao Nuo'er into Zhao Ping'er's arms, tucking away his Heavenly Compass and rolling up his sleeves. He darted forward.
The Barren Marsh was named for its fiendish inhabitants—descendants of ancient beasts. Though their blood had thinned over millennia, they could still tap into primal power, explaining how they'd built a kingdom in human lands.
The prince's fiend form surged with power, his claws glinting like silver blades. Zhao Xunan dodged, fingers snapping to activate a talisman.
"Blessing of the Fortune Deity—ward off slaughter!"
A bright white light flared, freezing the prince mid-lunge. He crashed to the ground, spitting blood.
Zhao Xunan didn't hesitate. He drove his elbow into the prince's chest, sending him flying ten feet.
"Ugh…" The prince groaned, his tiger form shrinking back to human as he coughed blood. "Master Chanming, Master Feitu—I paid you handsomely to watch, not stand idle!"
Zhao Xunan's eyes narrowed. He hadn't sensed a single aura from the carriage. Whoever was inside… was no ordinary foe.
"Enjoying the show, were we?" A voice called from the carriage. A short man with a white beard helped an elderly figure out, bowing slightly before drawing a short blade. "Kid—how many realms have you cultivated?"
"Excuse me?" Zhao Xunan unsheathed his Heavenly Compass.
The man grinned. "I'm Sixth Realm. If you're lower, admit defeat and let the prince kill his sister. Saves me trouble. If higher… I'll leave. Whether you save her depends on whether you can take Master Chanming."
Zhao Xunan was speechless. In all his lives, he'd never met someone so blunt.
"I'm Fourth Realm."
The man nodded. "Surrender or fight?"
"Xiao Nuo'er is my disciple. To harm her, you'll cross my corpse."
"Clang!" The short blade flashed toward Zhao Xunan's head. He barely blocked it with his Heavenly Compass.
"Clang, clang, clang!" Three rapid strikes forced Zhao Xunan back. As he stumbled, the blade shifted—slicing horizontally toward his ribs.
In a heartbeat, Zhao Xunan's right hand swept his sword aside, his left slapping the man's forehead. "Command of Marshal Wen—fiends, retreat!"
"Break!"
The slap connected, but the man's blade sliced into the Heavenly Compass's black blade, sparking red. Zhao Xunan staggered, blood splattering, but he twisted, slashing the man's thigh as he fell.
The man laughed, clutching his wound. "Sharp blade—reminds me of battlefield killers, not cultivators."
Zhao Xunan stayed silent, though he admired the man's insight. His old martial arts friend had been a similar breed—a warrior forged in battle.
"Not bad," the man said, grinning. "I only used 80% of my strength. Next round? Not so gentle."
Zhao Xunan nodded. "I only used 70%. You'll regret underestimating me."
The man's eyes crinkled. "Lying through your teeth. But I'll humor you—this time, I'll go all out. Don't die; I'd hate to lose a interesting opponent."
Zhao Xunan scoffed, pointing at the man's bleeding thigh. "A grown man, acting like a child. Pathetic."
The man flushed but ignored it. "Enough chatter. Take this!"
He leaped back five paces, slashing with a red blade that tore through the air like fire. The sound of shattering glass echoed as the blade surged toward Zhao Xunan.
Zhao Xunan channeled his true qi, lifting his Heavenly Compass to meet it. The black blade blazed like the sun, clashing with the red.
"Boom!"
The impact sent shockwaves rippling, uprooting grass and flipping the carriage ten feet away. The horses shrieked in terror.
"Take my blade!"
Breaking free, Zhao Xunan lunged at the dazed man, aiming for his arm—not his vitals.
"You're soft!" The man's eyes narrowed, glowing golden-red. Zhao Xunan's gut tightened, but he was too close to dodge.
Two golden-red beams shot from the man's eyes, searing heat that singed Zhao Xunan's hair. He activated his true qi, shouting: "Great Dharma King—vanquish evil!"
The air cooled instantly. The beams pierced his robes, exploding into red crystals mid-air. The man spat blood, but he laughed, slashing again.
Zhao Xunan parried, his Heavenly Compass slicing the man's blade from his hand. The black edge hovered at the man's throat.
"Why not kill me?" the man asked, wiping blood.
"Because you'd have killed me otherwise," Zhao Xunan said. "Tit for tat."
He sheathed his sword. The man saluted, tossing a pouch to the prince before striding away.
"Prince—this is for your trouble. Farewell. We'll meet again in green mountains and clear waters."
The old man sighed, shaking his head. "A talent wasted. If he'd joined a sect, Sixth Realm wouldn't fall to you."
Zhao Xunan watched them leave, then turned to the prince, sword in hand. "Still want Xiao Nuo'er? Cross my corpse first."
"Stubborn fool!" the old man muttered, shuffling forward.
Zhao Xunan charged, his blade singing.
"Wind."
A whisper—then Zhao Xunan was hurled backward, his body torn by invisible blades. Blood gushed from dozen of wounds, staining the ground.
"Wind Edge?!" He staggered, clutching his chest.
"One more chance. Leave."
The old man's steps were slow, but to Zhao Xunan, he loomed like a mountain.
"Your realm?" Zhao Xunan panted, blood soaking his belt.
The old man smiled. "Cultivation Realm—Grand Perfection."
Zhao Xunan's heart raced. In over a year of rebirth, he'd met two peak experts in the mortal world.
"Wise to know your place. Leave now?"
The old man stopped a foot away, unafraid.
"Master—" Zhao Ping'er's voice trembled, clutching Xiao Nuo'er.
Zhao Xunan grinned, swinging his Heavenly Compass. A golden blade surged forward—but the old man shattered it with a flick of his wrist.
Zhao Xunan spat blood, collapsing.
"Fire."
Flames engulfed him. Just as he was about to perish, his Yin-Yang Bagua jade tablet blazed with color, snuffing the flames. Then—his Beauty Finger flared crimson.
The old man froze, then crumbled to ash. Even the sky seemed to gasp at the hole torn in its fabric.