For Chen Yang, the title of Zhennan Prince was merely icing on the cake. True power lay in one's own strength.

"Don't you dare be so arrogant!" Yang Dingtian laughed furiously, his icy eyes flickering with a cold light. "I admit you're a prodigy, especially when it comes to leading troops in battle."

"But as the saying goes, a fallen phoenix is no better than a chicken." Yang Dingtian wasn't in a hurry. A sarcastic smile played on his lips as he gestured to the circle of Yang Family masters, placing special emphasis on the four black-robed elders beside him. "Even without the eighty thousand Personal Guards, the foundation of my Golden Summit Yang Family is not something ordinary people can shake."

Chen Yang's expression remained unchanged. He didn't speak, merely watching Yang Dingtian with an indifferent gaze.

Yang Dingtian pulled over a chair and sat down with commanding presence. He lit a cigar and puffed a cloud of smoke toward Chen Yang. "Throughout history, those whose achievements outshine their master's are doomed to a grim fate."

"Tell me," he said, squinting with a smirk, "considering your current awkward situation, the Martial Department wouldn't blame me if I killed you, right? Let me play out a scenario for you. See if I've got this right."

"I kill you and find a scapegoat. The Martial Department punishes them but publicly announces that you, the Zhennan Prince, died valiantly on the battlefield. This way, the threat you pose is eliminated, and the public gets an explanation. We save face, they save face—it's a perfect solution, pleasing to everyone."

Resting one hand on the back of his chair, Yang Dingtian asked cheerfully, "Do you have anything to add?"

"It's logical, but…" Chen Yang shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "You can't kill me."

"Let's not waste any more time." Chen Yang patted his clothes. "Go on, kill yourself."

Yang Dingtian was speechless. The surrounding crowd was stunned.

Kill himself? Is this guy living in a dream? Stripped of the Zhennan Prince's halo, on the Yang Family's own turf, he isn't begging for forgiveness, but has the gall to demand the Patriarch of the Yang Family commit suicide? It's normal for a young man to be arrogant, but this level of boundless arrogance is nothing but courting death.

For a moment, every member of the Yang Family looked at him with expressions of disdain and mockery.

"Boy, you've gone too far," Yang Dingtian sneered.

CLANG!

Chen Yang drew the Ancestral Sword. He flicked the blade with his finger, and a crisp, melodious note drifted through the desolate night. Chen Yang closed his eyes slightly, listening intently.

"Finish him," Yang Dingtian ordered, raising his hand with a casual flick of his wrist. He felt a visceral disgust for the indifferent composure on Chen Yang's face.

A person like that should be crushed with the force of a thunderbolt. I should grind his face into the dirt, again and again, and ask him: 'You cur, who do you think you're putting on an act for?' He has no idea what death is!

At the thought, a ferocious smirk unconsciously curled Yang Dingtian's lips.

The Zhennan Prince. Even if he's a thing of the past, utterly crushing someone like him under my heel should be quite amusing, shouldn't it? Haha! I eagerly await the show.

WHOOSH!

The four protectors, led by Yang Wei, sprang into action. The violent, howling gale they created snapped bowl-thick trees in half and sent rubble flying through the air, where it exploded into dust. Even the surrounding eighth-rank Fist Masters found it difficult to withstand the pressure, retreating again and again.

One was fifteenth-rank, and the other three were at the peak of fourteenth-rank. Having spent decades together, their coordination was breathtaking. The combined power of their unified strike was truly terrifying.

Yet, faced with this almost unstoppable onslaught, Chen Yang remained unmoved. His eyes were still closed, as if he were still immersed in the lingering, melodious sound from before.

Then, Chen Yang flicked the blade again.

DING!

The sound was just as crisp as the first.

But this time, as the sound wave spread out from him, visible ripples, tinged with golden light, surged through the air and swept forward with the speed of lightning.

BOOM!

Before the four protectors could even react, their charging bodies froze mid-air. Then they were flung backward even faster than they had arrived. Except for Qin Wei, the other three figures disintegrated during their flight, exploding into mists of blood.

As for Qin Wei, he slammed into the ground on his knees with a deafening crash. The floor shattered, and the upper half of his body sank deep into the crater. Dust and blood mingled in the air, creating a lurid crimson haze.

"You… you…" An alarming wound ran across Qin Wei's entire chest, blood pouring out in torrents. Every muscle in his body trembled violently. He struggled to lift his head, his horrified eyes fixed on Chen Yang. He seemed to want to say something, but halfway through, his body went rigid and collapsed.

He lay motionless, dead.

Silence. The vast courtyard fell into a deathly stillness.

This… this!

The sound of people gulping nervously could be heard one after another. Then, all eyes turned to Chen Yang, who remained seated calmly in his chair.

CLANG.

Chen Yang returned the Ancestral Sword to its sheath.

At the same instant, eight bloody cracks burst open across Yang Dingtian's body, running clean through him. Pearlescent beads of blood sprayed from the wounds without end. A second ago, he had been laughing ferociously, imagining Chen Yang's gruesome death. Now, his life force vanished in an instant. He stumbled back several steps before collapsing to his knees.

This… How can he be this strong?!

"Even without the title of Zhennan Prince, killing you is as easy as slaughtering a dog."

The ethereal voice, as indifferent as the wind, drifted into everyone's ears.

Yang Dingtian was speechless. Yang Li was stunned. So was everyone else.

"You… you…" Yang Dingtian clutched his chest, struggling to raise his head. His bloodshot eyes, filled with utter dread and terror, were locked on Chen Yang.

What in the world is this level of power? He didn't even stand up! With just a slight movement of two fingers, he not only killed the four protectors but also left my own body shattered and on the brink of death?

The Yang Family disciples, who had been full of killing intent just moments before, scrambled back in terror. Their eyes were wide with panic, and thick beads of cold sweat rolled down their faces.

DING!

With a light flick of his thumb, Chen Yang popped the Ancestral Sword slightly out of its sheath before letting it slide back in. It was a casual, bored gesture. But to everyone present, the sound was like a clap of thunder that sent chills down their spines, making their hair stand on end.

A cool spring breeze rustled past, filled with an endless warmth.

Feeling thoroughly bored, Chen Yang tossed the Ancestral Sword to Yang Hu, then casually lit a cigarette. Smoke curled slowly into the air.

Yang Li was aghast. What in God's name is this man? In my twenty-odd years, I've never seen a young man so imposing, one who could annihilate the powerful with a mere flick of a finger.

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