The crossbows fired relentlessly, but to Lin Yongdao, it felt like shooting at cotton.
In that moment, everyone felt the calm before the storm.
"Elder Wen..."
Ping Miaoxuan tried to speak again, but Wen Yangxi raised a hand to stop her.
"I know what you’re going to say."
Wen Yangxi took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the clan members behind him. "The greater good of the Mist Rain Tower means defending this pass. But for the Azure Dragon Hall, the greater good is revenge. Tower Master, step aside..."
A bitter expression immediately crossed Ping Miaoxuan’s face.
She was, after all, too inexperienced. She could keep the younger generation in the Halls in line, but not the elders—especially someone like Wen Yangxi. She had come to guard the pass herself precisely to prevent him from acting on his own authority.
But she never imagined it would still come to this.
She quickly shot Lin Yongdao a pleading glance. Lin Yongdao sighed internally. He could clearly see the Old Hall Master had lost control. ’Attacking the mind is the supreme strategy; besieging a city is the lesser. Under these circumstances, no one could remain calm.’
"Elder Wen..."
But Lin Yongdao could only brace himself and try to speak.
"Get lost!"
The furious shout came instantly. "I have my own plans!"
ROAR—
At almost the same instant, the Clawed Flood Dragon, sensing its master’s boundless fury, let out a heaven-shaking roar. Its four wings beat the air, stirring up a hurricane. Spurred on by the furious cry, countless draconic and serpentine Demon Beasts rose into the air, hovering there.
The terrifying sight instantly formed a fantastical tableau in the sky.
At the same time, the Cultivators of the Azure Dragon Hall all took a step forward in unison, showing their resolve. Lin Yongdao immediately fell silent. Wen Yangxi could still maintain some composure with Ping Miaoxuan, but he would not be so lenient with him.
’If I say another word, I’ll become his mortal enemy. He’ll definitely kill me first before charging out of the pass.’
"Elder Wen, since you’ve made your decision, I won’t stand in your way." Seeing that even Lin Yongdao was helpless, Ping Miaoxuan let out a long sigh and waved her hand. The people behind her immediately took several steps back.
"I know this is their ploy to provoke me, to use me as a weak point. But I’m no pushover. Forcing the enemy to retreat doesn’t necessarily mean holding this mountain pass to the death."
Murderous intent was plain in Wen Yangxi’s eyes, but he remained chillingly calm.
"Elder Wen, you mean..."
Ping Miaoxuan froze, stunned.
Wen Yangxi’s figure slowly rose into the air, his aura swelling until he landed on the back of the Clawed Flood Dragon. His voice boomed across the land:
"Chen Che, you whelp! You wanted a life-and-death battle with me, didn’t you? I’ll give you that chance. I’ve long heard the Chiefs of the Star-Picking Sect and Primordial Sect are all formidable leaders. I wonder, would any of you be interested in a contest against our Mist Rain Tower?"
Although Chen Che had started to leave with the others, he had kept his Divine Sense focused on the pass.
He’d watched them argue, watched them fight amongst themselves, watched Wen Yangxi fly into a rage. Now, hearing these words, he couldn’t help but stop in his tracks.
Seeing him stop, the other Chiefs from the two sects also halted.
Their eyes showed a mixture of astonishment, surprise, and delight.
They were delighted that Wen Yangxi was finally making a move, but shocked that he wasn’t following their script. Even on the verge of losing control, the Old Hall Master’s reason had prevailed, leading him to propose this instead.
The stunned Ping Miaoxuan reacted instantly. She raised a hand, and the Golden Core Cultivators of the Vermilion Bird Hall stepped forward in unison as she declared loudly:
"That’s right! Among the hundred-plus Golden Core Cultivators of your two sects, surely there’s at least one real man among you?"
"What’s the contest?"
Chen Che asked, turning his head.
"Since we are Cultivators, we’ll compete in what matters: strength and Cultivation. Swordsmanship, Talismans, archery, Arrays—we can compete in any of them. The challenge is limited to the Golden Core realm. And since this is a battlefield, we fight not just for victory, but to the death!"
The Old Hall Master stood upon the back of the Clawed Flood Dragon, gazing down upon them all.
"For the first match, I will have my grand-nephew, Wen Tianhong, take the field! What say you, do you have the courage? Which one of you is an Arrow Cultivator? Step forward and test your skills against him!"
"I will!"
A True Master from the Star-Picking Sect stepped forward. With a flip of his hand, a Purple Sandalwood Longbow appeared. He roared at Wen Tianhong, who stood behind the battlements:
"I am Luo Shubao, an Arrow Cultivator and a Loose Cultivator affiliated with the Star-Picking Sect! I’ve come to ask for a lesson! Patriarch Wen, if you don’t dare to come out, that’s fine. I’ll allow you to hide behind your walls. I can still put an arrow through your throat with this bow!"
"There’s no need for provocations. I won’t hide behind the pass. Even if I die in battle, the Azure Dragon Hall disciples and the Wen Clan Members will not swarm you! But first, you’ll need the skill to kill me!"
Wen Tianhong leaped into the air, flying five li out from the city walls. He swept his fingers across the nine strings of the bow in his arms, producing a chilling sound like the clash of armies on a battlefield. Then he looked up.
"Are you ready to die?"
The Loose Cultivator, Luo Shubao, said nothing, merely offering a mocking smile in return.
Seeing this, Wen Yangxi simply waved his hand.
Immediately, a Foundation Establishment Cultivator behind the pass pointed a finger. A ball of fire shot into the sky like a meteor, leaving a crimson trail in its wake before exploding with a loud BANG.
The instant the fireball exploded, Luo Shubao flicked his bowstring, sending a sharp, resonant twang through the air.