"Yes, you!"
The beastlike red-haired man let out a booming laugh, his finger locked unwaveringly on Bai Zhou.
"Bai Zhou..." Standing nearby, Gem Witch blinked in surprise, then looked at him with mounting worry.
She had no idea why, but Bai Zhou looked thoroughly exhausted this morning. The massive dark circles under his eyes made it obvious he had run his brain ragged, and his mind kept wandering even when talking to her.
Meanwhile, the hulking brute standing in the square looked insufferably arrogant. A single man had cowed the entire Special Control Bureau into silence, showing he was certainly no pushover.
Weighing the two against each other...
Things looked bad!
"...You really pointing at me?"
Yet for some reason, Bai Zhou suddenly blew his top.
"Who the hell are you pointing at?!"
"...What's wrong with pointing at you?" The beastlike man could not fathom why Bai Zhou had suddenly flared up.
Hearing him talk back, Bai Zhou's fury only surged hotter.
"Don't you know—that's extremely rude?!"
Before the words had even fully landed, Bai Zhou vanished on the spot.
A ripple of spirituality flared and faded in an instant. By the time the crowd reacted, Bai Zhou had already streaked through the air above them, landing dead center in the plaza.
"So fast!" The members of the Western Federation gathered across the square gasped in unison.
Bai Zhou felt this guy from the Western Federation had zero manners...
In Wancheng, having someone point a finger at you was considered deeply taboo. Not because pointing itself was an offense against the rules, but because there was only ever one reason someone pointed at you in Wancheng:
It meant you had broken a taboo, someone had ratted you out to the Black Robes, and they were leading the Black Robe Law Enforcement Team right to your doorstep!
Nobody wanted to be dragged to the civic square by the Black Robe Law Enforcement Team to experience their blazing, searing 'warmth.' Because of that, people from Wancheng never pointed at one another, just as no one would ever gift a clock at an elder's birthday celebration.
It was monumentally bad luck!
Yet here he was...
Stuck in the middle of a plaza, pointed at in front of an entire crowd of onlookers. It triggered some truly foul memories for Bai Zhou.
Running on zero sleep to begin with, Bai Zhou was genuinely pissed off.
—He really needed to teach this ill-mannered outlander a lesson.
"Come on, then!"
The beastlike red-haired man paid Bai Zhou's temper no mind. Laughing heartily, his body crackled once more with pops like roasting beans as his towering frame expanded, casting a long, hulking shadow across the ground.
He had no idea why this kid in pajamas was suddenly in such a rage, but he respected the courage it took to step up.
He had no idea what kind of sacred powerhouse this pajama-clad boy might be, but he knew he would pay him the respect of going all out!
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
He sprinted forward at full throttle like a runaway locomotive, barreling straight toward Bai Zhou with ferocious momentum.
The sheer pressure was terrifying. An all-out Wulfrick seemed like a moving demonic mountain. How could a puny mortal hope to stand in its path? They could only be crushed to dust.
"Eighth Seat under my Lord, Wulfrick!" The red-haired man roared to the heavens, the shockwaves trembling across the grounds. "Come fight!"
"Yeah, yeah, we know you're Number Eight." Bai Zhou found the red-haired brute downright deafening.
"And now..."
Bai Zhou raised a hand in contemplation.
He followed an instinct welling up through his pathway—just as ancient ancestors had feared the beasts of the night until fear of the dark was inscribed into human DNA, or just as early humans had domesticated wild wolves into pets, etching the deep security of raising and petting canines straight into their bones through generations.
The ancient epic was etched directly into the pathway itself. Movements and memories buried for countless eons awoke spontaneously upon meeting the right target. Yielding to this instinct, Bai Zhou thrust a single palm forward.
The slap looked utterly mundane and unremarkable—no glowing aura, no miraculous phenomenon, barely even a ripple of spirituality. At first glance, it looked no different from swatting an unruly dog at home.
Yet the moment the red-haired beast barreled in, a mysteriously ancient, desolate aura erupted abruptly from Bai Zhou's palm. It flashed and vanished without a trace, impossible to locate, and directed solely at the red-haired beast alone.
*Smack!*
The slap came crashing straight down over his head.
"Number Eight!"
Bai Zhou commanded:
"Sit!"
*Rumble!*
The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck.
Dust and debris billowed skyward before quickly dispersing. When everyone finally saw what had unfolded on the field, the entire plaza plunged into dead silence.
Before every pair of watching eyes—
The moving Beast Blood Aristocrat had taken a slap upside the head.
And then, the invincible Wulfrick...
Had fallen flat on his rear right there where he stood.
"Huh?"
He glanced left and right at himself, seated in a heap on the dirt.
He was utterly dazed.
His face showed pure bewilderment, every shred of his savage, bloodthirsty momentum gone without a trace.
To put it plainly, he looked like a vicious dog that had been baring its fangs only a moment ago, but after getting cuffed upside the head by its master, even its gaze had turned remarkably clear and docile.
"H-How can this be?!" In the Western Federation's formation, a flashy, handsome youth stood with his jaw dropped.
Only now did the onlookers snap out of their stupor, and an astonished roar of discussion erupted across the perimeter.
"Who is he? What did he just do?"
"Did anyone catch that?"
Amid the packed throng of onlookers, the elites of the Special Control Bureau stared at one another in disbelief.
They were thoroughly shaken. This was no longer a question of who was stronger. They couldn't even comprehend what Bai Zhou had done. All they saw was him, with absolute and effortless dominance, taking the haughty Wulfrick—the man who had browbeaten the entire Special Control Bureau—and...
Planting him on his backside with a single swat?!
It was too humiliating, too unbelievable.
It was like watching a grown man train a dog, a muscular adult easily slapping sense into a rebellious two-year-old child with a single hand.
Could the gap between them truly be this vast?
Yet the one most shaken of all was without a doubt Wulfrick himself.
"What... what was that just now?"
Wulfrick's eyes went wide with disbelief as he looked up at Bai Zhou's figure standing right in front of him.
In that single split second, he had felt an extraordinarily bizarre sensation—one that made him feel as though an unexplainable force had taken hold of him. Beneath that boy's featherlight slap, an overwhelmingly terrifying sense of crisis and a near-suffocating dread had washed over him!
It was as if... somewhere along the way, this boy had slipped a collar around his neck like an enraged beast.
The moment the collar snapped shut, the surging blood of the Beast Blood Aristocrat stopped boiling. The frenzied bloodthirst cleared completely, replaced by an unsettling feeling of being puppeteered against his will.
Facing that outstretched palm, he felt a primal impulse to obey—as if the person standing before him was naturally meant to look down on him from above, like an awe-inspiring emperor, a stern father, a...
Master?
The sheer absurdity of the thought made Wulfrick shake his head violently.
"Sorcery!"
That was the only explanation he could fathom.
Pointing his finger at Bai Zhou, Wulfrick shouted at the top of his lungs:
"You... what kind of wicked sorcery did you use?!"
"Want to learn?" Bai Zhou looked down at the eight-foot-tall Wulfrick splayed on the ground before him.
At this moment, dressed in loose pajamas and plastic slippers, Bai Zhou had a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he gazed down at the man.
And before him, the hulking musclebound youth was slumped on his backside, knees folded in an awkward sit that looked remarkably like a kowtow, staring upward at the boy. The lights of the base poured down on them, casting half of Bai Zhou's face in shadow.
To some observers, the scene looked almost shockingly sacred.
"Even if you want to learn, I won't teach you."
Bai Zhou blinked twice. "Because I don't like ill-mannered kids."
"..." Wulfrick's face flushed bright red, deepened into a bruised purple, and finally darkened almost to black.
It was hard to imagine anyone's face cycling through so many shades so fast. Even though he was a native of Fog Capital from the Western Federation, it made one wonder if he had somehow mastered the ancient Eastern Federation art of face-changing.
"Wulfrick!"
Just then, a blue-haired woman in the Western Federation ranks hissed in displeasure:
"Get up! You are forbidden to kneel!"
"You represent the face of our Western Federation, and you carry the will of Her Highness! How can you allow someone to humiliate you like this?!"
"I..."
Wulfrick huffed and puffed on the ground, his face burning as he bellowed, "Dammit, I wasn't kneeling!"
With a flustered scramble, he vaulted up from the ground, bouncing back in two quick leaps to put what he considered a safe distance between himself and Bai Zhou.
"Do not be afraid!"
The blue-haired woman called out again. "Every bizarre secret technique demands a price. I wager he attacked your mind, but fear not—"
"You still have me, Wulf," she said flatly.
As she spoke, she raised a wand cast from pure silver, whispering an incantation beneath her breath:
"Fangs of the wolf, spine of the bear, heart of the lion... O glory of beast blood, lend me your roar!
"Consign blood to the blade, offer terror to the dust—let my warrior tear all asunder!"
The obscure syllables carried a cadence akin to singing, rising higher in pitch as if offering a prayer to the heavens.
*Hum...*
The faint, low blare of a war horn seemed to echo across the sky above, rising steadily from a rumble to a crescendo.
Spirituality churned, and invisible ripples cascaded down from the sky, washing over Wulfrick.
"Awooo!" Wulfrick threw his head back and howled, the crimson hue returning to his recently cleared eyes.
Fear retreated, courage filled his chest, and bloodlust combined with fearless abandon flooded his mind.
Every inch of muscle across his frame swelled. His height stretched further, breaching the eight-foot mark.
His face morphed into the visage of a lupine beast, dense fur sprouted along his arms, his claws curved sharp and wicked, and an ominous dark-red glow enveloped his entire body like a gossamer shroud, carrying a sweet, metallic scent of blood on the wind.
Right now, even if a Level 6 Titled Extraordinary stood before him, he would charge without hesitation to rip them apart—for he was a warrior from Hell, bearing a roaring lion within his gaze!
"A War Priest!"
High upon the dais, the Statute Emissary straightened in his seat.
"I had no idea you gathered both the Beast Blood Aristocrat and War Priest pathways under one banner!"
The male delegate holding a wand nodded with reserved poise, a rare smirk tugging at his sinister lips beneath his hooked nose. "The esteemed Statute Emissary is truly well-traveled, recognizing even a War Priest."
Speaking in slightly stilted Eastern Federation Mandarin with deliberate inflections, he said softly:
"The Beast Blood Aristocrat and War Priest pathways possess grand heritage. With them, Extraordinary practitioners once erected a glorious civilization along the Mediterranean coast, pulling strings behind the powerful empire known as Carthage, clashing for over a century with Rome—ruled from the shadows by practitioners led by the Adventurer pathway.
"The two pathways complement each other. When properly united, they can hold their own against any celestial pathway, surpassing them in certain specialties."
"Of course, this..." The male delegate spared a glance at the pajama-clad boy with heavy dark circles in the center of the square. "Your rather eccentric young man is a rare prodigy as well. I wonder how he..."
While they spoke, the battle reached its fever pitch.
"Go! Wulfrick!"
The blue-haired War Priest brandished her silver wand from the rear.
"Listen to your beast blood! Do you hear it? The roar of the lion within your gaze!
"You are empowered! You are a warrior from Hell, and none can bar your path! None can capture the mind of a Beast Blood Aristocrat!
"Slaughter him!"
With that command,
The ground caved in. The eight-foot-tall beast-man charged, his imposing silhouette tearing through the air and leaving a shrill whistle in his wake.
"That's cheating! Two on one, what kind of contest is that?" someone from the Special Control Bureau cried out on Bai Zhou's behalf from below.
Others began swearing outright, targeting the whole lot: "Western Federation scumbags with no sportsmanship—have you no shame at all?!"
They were outraged, worried for Bai Zhou, and their sharp jeers filled the air.
Yet the blue-haired woman with the silver wand showed no reaction, and the sprinting Wulfrick was entirely deaf to the noise.
His beast blood boiled, his mind consumed solely by the urge to fight and slaughter. The crimson glow wrapping his body granted immunity to most non-combat secret techniques, turning him into a horrifying killing machine.
Bai Zhou noted that the blue-haired woman was quite right. A berserk Beast Blood Aristocrat had discarded all reason, so how could anyone control his mind?
But who was Bai Zhou?
A model student recognized year after year by Wancheng's Black Robes! An outstanding top ranker developed across morality, intellect, physique, art, and labor!
He didn't know the first thing about mind control—techniques that sounded thoroughly improper to begin with.
Right now, the berserk Wulfrick needed only to follow his instincts to unleash his peak, invincible combat power.
Yet wasn't that convenient?
Bai Zhou's specialized advantage and pathway suppression over the Beast Blood Aristocrat...
—Happened to be engraved into his instincts as well.
And so,
Bai Zhou cleared his throat lightly and patted his hands together.
His plastic slippers scuffed across the ground. Dressed in white pajama pants, the youth stood before the entire assembly in the center of the plaza and spread his legs wide. He threw his arms out in a welcoming stance, facing down the charging behemoth.
Like a masked matador facing the charge of a raging bull.
Then, Bai Zhou hoisted his right palm high into the air, holding it aloft like the researchers who had been doing morning callisthenics under the clock tower not long ago.
—Yet the stance left the upper half of his body wide open, an opening so glaring it was painful to look at.
"Watch out!" an elite from the Special Control Bureau couldn't help shouting.
Bai Zhou looked far too casual. This stance looked like performance art, completely detached from the tension of a life-and-death clash. People believed in Bai Zhou's prowess, but they still felt he was being vastly too overconfident.
In the treacherous, peril-laden mystical world, overconfidence was almost always a fatal mistake...
Then,
Under the gaze of ten thousand eyes,
Before the witness of the dignitaries on the dais,
Beneath the tense or confident stares of the Western Federation youths,
That familiar *smack* rang out in everyone's ears once more.
Wulfrick plowed straight into Bai Zhou's wide-open embrace.
Bai Zhou brought his palm crashing down.
*Rumble!*
No one knew how much power or incomprehensible weight was packed into Bai Zhou's slap.
Because to their eyes, it really was just an ordinary slap, barely carrying a trace of spirituality, looking thoroughly unremarkable in force.
By contrast, Wulfrick had charged with world-shattering momentum, the invincible Beast Blood Aristocrat resembling a warrior from Hell, the roaring lion in his eyes baring fangs toward the sky—a sight that would give even a Level 6 Titled Extraordinary pause.
And then—
The warrior from Hell was swatted flying.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—*
Wulfrick spun through the air like a top through three full rotations, his left cheek swelling into a bulbous mound.
*Crash!*
Wulfrick hit the dirt. The crimson light blanketing his frame shattered, his beastly traits dissolved midair, and his massive bulk shrank back to its normal stature.
The invincible Wulfrick lay motionless in a pool of blood.
The imperious Beast Blood Aristocrat sprawled unconscious on the ground. In the final flutter of his eyes before losing consciousness, the roaring lion had been slapped into an obedient house cat.
Everyone stood dumbfounded.
And completely bewildered.
One slap!
Another single slap!
A solitary slap had swatted Wulfrick into an unknown state between life and death!
The scene was so shocking it rooted everyone to the ground, lost in prolonged silence.
The air seemed frozen. No one spoke; eyes simply widened as pupils contracted and twitched violently.
In the center of the plaza, the remaining nine youths from Fog Capital plunged into an eerie collective silence for the first time.
They stood petrified, unable to accept the outcome before their eyes.
The dark-haired youth who had been so insufferably arrogant as a Level 6 Titled Extraordinary remained rooted in place. But his gaze no longer carried the haughty disdain of looking down upon all living beings.
Looking at Bai Zhou now, his eyes were filled with solemn seriousness and uncomprehending shock.
Just how surreal was this scene to those watching?
To the blue-haired woman walking the War Priest pathway, watching Wulfrick—whom she had personally empowered—get swatted like a dead dog by a featherlight slap, his supposedly impenetrable crimson glow shattering without putting up any resistance whatsoever—
The psychological shock was akin to the jade pendant her grandmother gave her exploding out of thin air, the crucifix left by her grandfather spontaneously combusting, the statue of the god she worshipped snapping its own arm off to save its life, the ghost husband from her spirit marriage taking the wrong bridal sedan next door, her pet cat cutting off its own tail to escape, her gold and silver turning black and smoking, and her sticky rice popping like popcorn.
It was like the statue of the Son jumping off the cross, the Holy Spear being used as a toothpick, the enshrined Gabriel turning inverted and blackened, and the elderly priest she hired hiding in a vat of holy water for hours, only to look up and see a dark-circled Bai Zhou in pajamas sitting on the rim, casually poking his palm with a cross-shaped nail for fun—that was how terrifying it felt!
She scrutinized Bai Zhou's figure. Even without making direct contact, looking at him sent a shiver down her spine, instilling a lethal sense of threat and terror deep in her soul.
Amid these complex emotions, an indistinct hint of affinity and an urge to submit were buried beneath the crushing fear, almost imperceptible.
After a long while, the dead silence around the plaza was finally broken by an uncontrollable cheer.
"Bai Zhou!"
At this moment, people finally understood just how extraordinary the boy truly was—the one who had stood alone against the grand schemer Luo Tunan for so long, and ultimately slew a demon and executed a Saint single-handedly.
People had assumed Bai Zhou was merely blessed with lucky breaks, that the demon and the Saint simply hadn't had the chance to mature, or that Bai Zhou had found an opening to exploit their weaknesses... Now it was plain to see that Bai Zhou's reputation was thoroughly deserved.
A person who wrought impossible miracles was himself a living miracle!
Amid the clamoring cheers across the plaza, the faces of the Western Federation youths alternated between green and purple.
Accustomed to supreme arrogance, they felt that being knocked out cold on the ground would be far preferable to standing there conscious.
The honor of Fog Capital and the dignity of Her Highness were being trampled underfoot again and again...
Defeat was acceptable, but not a defeat like this.
If they could not reclaim their dignity, they could not begin to imagine what punishment awaited them afterward!
"A victory is a victory! Since you possessed such strength all along, why conceal it and humiliate us like this?"
The handsome youth pointed a finger at Bai Zhou, his tone sinister. "Did no one ever teach you basic human etiquette?"
Bai Zhou paused, turning his gaze toward him. "Conceal it...? Didn't he call me out by name to fight?"
"—And did no one ever teach you not to speak with your mouth, but with your rear?"
Even as he spoke,
Bai Zhou vanished from the spot once more.
The hairs on the back of the handsome youth's neck stood on end as he heard Bai Zhou's voice whisper right beside his ear:
"Because I'm hoping your rear is as tough as your mouth."
Even as Bai Zhou murmured the words, his right foot—clad in a plastic slipper—lashed out in a vicious kick.
"I'm going to shove my slipper right up your backside, kid!"
He had no idea why these Western Federation folks loved pointing fingers at people so much.
But Bai Zhou had no intention of indulging their nasty habit.
*Boom!*
The handsome youth was kicked into the air.
He flew into the distance and hung off a tree branch, his entire lower body spasming and convulsing as he wailed in agony—
"Aaaagh... My rear! My rear!"
"Damn you, you're dead! Nobody can save you now, not even kneeling and kowtowing will save you, you hear me..."
The furious curses rang out with robust vitality, making Bai Zhou wonder if he hadn't kicked hard enough.
Right on cue, two surging blasts of force pincer-attacked him from the left and right.
*Boom!*
Bai Zhou's gaze sharpened, and two arcs of eerie blue lightning crackled from his eyes, briefly intercepting the incoming blasts as he leapt aside with several quick bounds.
"Insolence!"
Enraged, several Western Federation youths struck simultaneously, their voices shouting one after another, "Fight me!"
"Wait, what about the prize?" Before Bai Zhou could finish speaking, four Level 5 Extraordinaries swooped in from four directions.
"I've beaten two of you already, and I still don't get the promised reward?"
Bai Zhou realized these people had zero intention of handing over the prize—the Thousand Blade Vortex Slash. They were acting like total scoundrels.
"Don't tell me I have to knock every single one of you flat to get it... That's asking a bit much, isn't it?!"
Specialized counter-attributes and pathway suppression were simply too effective. This was the first time Bai Zhou had experienced it—it felt like a natural predator's dominance in the food chain. When he channeled his Fate Principle and attached a few wisps of spirituality to his palm, he could suppress the target to death with ease.
If that Wulfrick hadn't had his pathway suppressed so severely, Bai Zhou would never have had guaranteed victory against him at an equal level of power.
Yet Wulfrick was only the Eighth Seat among the ten from Fog Capital.
Bai Zhou didn't know what pathways the rest walked, but among them, he sensed pathway suppression against some, while against others, he felt nothing.
The Titled Extraordinaries leading the group, watching him like hawks, exerted immense pressure on him.
"What a headache..."
Yet the battle erupted instantly. Clouds of radiant light surged skyward, brilliant hues washing across the grounds as turbulent waves of spirituality roared, blazing beams of rainbow light weaving together.
Wary of Bai Zhou, they dared not close the distance. Instead, they unleashed their strongest secret techniques in unison to probe him from afar, hoping to test the depths of this mysterious youth for the Level 6 Titled Extraordinaries behind them.
The battle raged with immense fury. Wind and thunder roared, the air screeching under tearing sonic booms, and dazzling arrays of secret techniques engulfed Bai Zhou's figure.
*Hum!*
A burning blood moon slowly crested from the heart of the swirling techniques.
Without anyone noticing, a purple-gold long saber had appeared in Bai Zhou's hand, humming with a lingering resonance.
The blade swept horizontally, rounding out like a full moon as it cut an arc through the air.
Wherever it swept, the four incoming surges of secret techniques shattered simultaneously. Palm winds scattered, fist auras dispersed, frosty gleams extinguished, and moisture vaporized—like snow meeting the sun.
"Ha..."
High upon the dais, the moment the burning blood moon rose, the large, red, barrel-like robot seemed to awaken, shuddering in excitement with loud clanking thuds.
Beside it, the purple-haired young woman in ornate armor, who had remained expressionless the entire time, raised a brow.
Then, her expression shifted abruptly.
"That person..." She turned her gaze, locking her eyes tightly onto Bai Zhou in the center of the field, her eyes flickering.
In the center of the plaza, Bai Zhou's saber met the four attackers.
"How... how can it feel like this...?!"
Three of the four charging Bai Zhou felt a wave of shock at the exact same moment.
They had finally experienced the bizarre sensation Wulfrick had suffered earlier.
The trump-card techniques they considered unbeatable against peers crumbled like brittle paper before Bai Zhou's blade light, shattering on impact like illusions.
They had strength—yet could not bring it to bear!
Only the person in the middle was free of this sensation, but precisely because of that, he received the brunt of Bai Zhou's attention.
The instant the burning blood moon descended before his eyes, another slash followed hard on its heels, slicing straight for his face.
Surging purple-gold blade aura filled his vision.
*Clang!*
He raised his sword to parry, sparks flying as blade met blade.
The next instant, an inexhaustible torrent of follow-up force surged through his sword like ocean waves crashing one after another, an unimaginable burst of power erupting violently!
—The Nine Basic Slashes! Fifth Slash!
*Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!*
All four figures were blown backward together.
Coughing mouthfuls of blood, they lay sprawled on the ground, unable to rise.
"...Tch."
Bai Zhou looked down at himself, dismayed to find his pajamas and slippers caked in mud and blood. They looked impossible to wash clean... He couldn't help worrying whether the Special Control Bureau would demand compensation.
"Once this fight is over—"
The purple-gold saber hummed in his hand as Bai Zhou looked at the four sprawled around him and said seriously:
"You're wiping my slippers clean!"
With that,
He flicked his blade and let it hang downward.
The dust settled.
For a moment, the crowd fell completely silent.
Then a thunderous roar erupted, the onlookers threatening to blow the roof off the square.
They chanted Bai Zhou's name with near-fanatical fervor. Every one of these haughty elites of the Special Control Bureau was now completely won over by an outsider.
Subduing the prodigy with a single palm, defeating all foes with a sweep of the blade—
Even in loose pajamas and plastic slippers, the poise of Bai Zhou standing on the field with his long saber left the Bureau's elites utterly spellbound.
"So that's Bai Zhou..." In the crowd, Gem Witch finally breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes shining brightly as a smile tugged at her lips.
However,
Opposite Bai Zhou, a Level 6 Extraordinary observed him for a long time before finally discerning something.
"A Level 5... Mandate-bearer?"
His gaze wavered with suspicion. "You're only Level 5? How can you face your peers and..."
"Enough," the dark-haired youth cut his comrade off with a gravelly voice, stepping forward.
"I do not know whether this can be considered a fair fight. None of us can see through your depths, so..."
The aura of a Level 6 Titled Extraordinary erupted around him. The dark-haired youth bowed formally to Bai Zhou, issuing a duel invitation.
He said, "I know you wish to stand up for the Special Control Bureau. Defeat me, and we shall concede wholeheartedly!"
"...?" Bai Zhou blinked twice, utterly confused.
Who's standing up for the Special Control Bureau?
Didn't you people call me up here by name?
Though I did want the Thousand Blade Vortex Slash, if I knew it'd be this much trouble, I might not have bothered coming at all...
Facing this dark-haired youth, Bai Zhou felt zero pathway suppression. Instead, his instincts as a Mandate-bearer screamed with lethal danger!
Danger!
This man was formidable!
Just then,
"Enough!"
A sharp rebuke rang out from high above.
The clank of armor echoed as a woman walked down from the dais.
She wore a suit of full armor in crimson and gold, its lines sleek and sharp, with the sigil of an eagle embossed on the pauldrons.
Her pale-purple hair cascaded down like a waterfall. She wore no helmet, revealing an expressionless yet breathtakingly cold and stunning face, with dark eyes wise and profound.
She walked forward at a measured pace. There was not a trace of spirituality radiating from her, yet everyone who saw her felt a suffocating sense of pressure closing in.
The dark-haired youth was the first to react. He spun around, bowing deeply in her direction, pressing his right fist against his chest.
"Your Highness!" he called out in the Western Federation tongue.
Behind him, the rest of the Western Federation youths snapped around in unison, bowing in unison.
"Your Highness!"
"The one standing before you is none other than the hero who has just slain a Saint and executed a demon—the prominent figure of Tinghai."
The armored young woman addressed as Your Highness swept her gaze over the bowing youths. Her eyes were frosty, her tone colder still:
"Losing to him is only natural.
"Yet, using Level 6 against Level 5..."
She let out a cold snort and barked sharply:
"Have you fed your knightly virtues to the dogs?!"
At these words, the youths from Fog Capital flushed with shame, lowering their heads further, not daring to meet her eyes.
*Clink, clank...* The metal of her armor scraped as the purple-haired young woman turned toward Bai Zhou.
"Bai Zhou."
In slightly accented Mandarin, she spoke his name.
Then, she raised her right hand and tossed something lightly.
A streak of silver light flew from her palm, tracing an arc through the air before dropping accurately toward Bai Zhou.
*Snap.*
Bai Zhou caught it in his hand.
A palm-sized object rested in his grip.
It was silvery-white throughout, assembled from countless tiny cubes like an ancient mechanical contraption. Every small cube was inscribed with intricate patterns that flickered with eerie blue light, appearing extraordinarily mysterious.
Yet portions of these intricate patterns were worn away and blurred, as if weathered by eons of time. Even the silver-white puzzle cube itself carried a dull, aged patina.
"A Rubik's cube?" Bai Zhou paused.
Looked like a rather historic, ancient puzzle cube?
"Perhaps this is what you require," the purple-haired young woman said softly, her voice carrying clearly to his ears.
Her tone was icy, carrying an imposing majesty that commanded respect, yet it felt oddly comforting to Bai Zhou.
"It hails from a two-thousand-year-old ruin. You may try infusing your spirituality into it," she quietly advised.
*Hum!*
The very moment Bai Zhou channeled spirituality into the cube—
*Click! Clack!*
The eerie blue patterns lit up one after another. The puzzle cube snapped open, its silver cubes turning and assembling on their own, shifting their configuration to reconnect the broken blue lines.
A faint blue glow flooded Bai Zhou's vision as countless surging fragments of knowledge poured from the ancient puzzle cube, rushing straight into his mind.
Complex lights and shadows danced across his thoughts, while the cube in his hands shone with a soft radiance.
"This is..."
Bai Zhou's pupils constricted slightly.
It was the legacy of ancient Rome—the incomplete secret technique of the Adventurer pathway:
The Thousand Blade Vortex Slash!
Chapter 230