Chapter Fifty: A Battle of Wits and Words

Two figures walked forward slowly. Yun Xi’s long dress fluttered, making her appear like a celestial maiden gliding over waves, while Lin Fan was clad in close-fitting attire, his gaze commanding, exuding an aura of formidable dominance.

“Greetings, Divine Lord, Sacred Lady!”
The crowd of the Divine Court bowed deeply and called out in unison, their voices resounding throughout the grand hall, with even Chen Daolin and the others joining in.

“No need for such ceremony.”
Lin Fan nodded, taking Yun Xi with him to the seat of honor. He carried his own unmistakable presence, while Yun Xi remained as serene as ever, betraying not a hint of emotion, yet no one dared to overlook her.

“Cheng Yu? That must be someone from the Divine Sons Alliance, such arrogance.”
Lin Fan swept his gaze around, noticing the members of the Divine Sons Alliance who remained seated. With his experience, he naturally said nothing more, not even reacting upon seeing Cheng Yu.

“Today marks the day my Divine Court raises its banner. I thank you all for coming to celebrate. Bring forth the wine—let us share a cup with our honored guests, and thus forge new bonds.”
With a grand gesture, Lin Fan dismissed any concern for the earlier confrontation outside the Orchid Heart Hall, nor did he care about the rudeness of the Divine Sons Alliance. He simply bypassed them, his disregard striking them like a slap in the face. Yet he knew matters would not be so easily settled.

“Heh, if you wish to drink with us, then status and rank must be respected. Does a stray dog from the roadside have the right to raise a cup with us?”
A cold voice rang out—Cheng Yu, his face full of derision.

Everyone’s hearts tightened; they knew the true drama was about to begin, so they fell silent, ready to enjoy the spectacle.

“If a stray dog can raise a cup, then it must be a demon beast—perhaps even a great demon. I’d gladly drink myself into oblivion with such a creature. And you—what are you, exactly? Is this even your place to speak?”
Lin Fan’s brows furrowed, his voice icy. Suddenly, he made his move. Power surged forth, forcing Cheng Yu to his knees, his chair already shattered beneath him.

“Lin Fan! This is too much!”
Cheng Wushuang, furious, stood up at once. With a sweep of his hand, he dispersed Lin Fan’s force, pulling Cheng Yu back to his feet.

“I am the Divine Court’s Lord, not someone to be slandered by any random creature. Today, I spare you for Cheng Wushuang’s sake. Otherwise, this madman would have been executed on the spot, his blood sacrificed in honor of our banner.”
Lin Fan stood with hands behind his back, his gaze cold and sharp. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop, an inexplicable chill filling the air.

“I’ve heard that the Lord of the Divine Court was once a mere menial servant in the Heavenly Capital Sect—is that true?”
Yao Yuewu’s voice drifted over as she sipped from her wine, speaking calmly.

“Though I don’t know where Miss Yuewu learned such news, it is indeed true. I have nothing to conceal.”
The moment Lin Fan spoke, the hall erupted in murmurs. Even Gu Renfeng and the others were baffled, their faces anxious and confused.

“Oh? In that case, I doubt whether the great Divine Lord has the ability to lead the Divine Court. After all, a person’s origin determines their perspective.”
Yao Yuewu’s words struck deep, clearly intent on ruining Lin Fan’s reputation.

“That is not your concern. One cannot choose their birth, but I am grateful for those years, for they made me stronger. Otherwise, I would not be standing here today.”
Lin Fan’s expression did not change; he remained calm and composed. Only now did everyone sense his terrifying resolve. If he truly rose from a menial servant to his current stature, who could fathom the effort required? In that instant, many felt a hint of respect for him.

“Hmph.”
Yao Yuewu’s face chilled, and she fell silent. She realized her words had not diminished Lin Fan’s prestige, but had, in fact, strengthened it.

“I heard from Cheng Yu that you once stole the Cheng family’s Tiger Fist technique. Is there truth to this?”
Cheng Wushuang spoke coldly, his eyes gleaming with deep intent.

“Nonsense! I owe all I have today to Senior Sister Yun Xi’s support. Tiger Fist? I’ve never even heard of it. Has your Cheng family become so lax with its techniques that others can steal them?”
Lin Fan frowned, refusing to acknowledge such claims and shifting all credit to Yun Xi. Even if Cheng Wushuang had more courage, he would not dare question Yun Xi.

“You—”
Cheng Wushuang’s eyes widened, taking a long moment to regain composure. Cheng Yu, meanwhile, coughed up blood and collapsed unconscious.

At this point, everyone understood: after today, not only had the Divine Sons Alliance failed to tarnish Lin Fan, but they had helped clear his name. From now on, Lin Fan would no longer be a menial servant, but the Lord of the Divine Court, and even his humble past would become a tale of admiration.

“What a silver tongue. I see it clearly now, but you won’t find peace today.”
Jian Yi stood up, finally speaking. For a moment, the atmosphere was tense, blades and swords seemingly poised to strike.

He formed a sword gesture, thrusting forward without the slightest disturbance.

Lin Fan’s expression changed, growing serious. Jian Yi’s sword gesture was no longer a mere test—it was a killing move.

“What profound mastery, returning to the essence. It seems he’s not far from the Condensing Veins Realm, likely even ahead of Chen Daolin.”
Lin Fan frowned, clenching his right fist, then punching forward with the Divine Creation Fist. This blow contained the power of twenty-four forms!

Bang!

At first, there was no ripple from their clash, but soon the ground beneath them began to crack, dust rising into the air.

“Well done.”
Lin Fan withdrew his hand, his gaze brilliant. A crack had appeared on his fist’s knuckle; he had suffered a minor injury.

“You’re not bad yourself.”
Jian Yi sneered. “A duel to the death—ten moves to take your life.”

“Then come and try.”
Lin Fan’s face was expressionless, revealing nothing of his inner thoughts.

“If you dare make a move, I will fight for the Divine Lord and conquer the world.”
Chen Daolin rose to confront Jian Yi, his eyes shining.

“We will eventually face each other.”
Jian Yi remained as forceful as ever, the sword on his back trembling, nearly breaking free to engage.

Boom!

Suddenly, golden light flooded the sky, tearing open the void. A figure appeared in midair.

Duanmu Ci had arrived, hovering above the Orchid Heart Hall, his entire form immersed in divine radiance, his presence intimidating all directions, standing guard over the eight wilds.

“My junior sister, such boldness—choosing this moment to raise the banner. Are you no longer mindful of your senior brother?”
Duanmu Ci spoke, his divine might overwhelming. His rumbling voice was as if a true god had spoken, divine patterns falling and engulfing all. The majesty of the Celestial Realm swept down, vast and irresistible.