Chapter 82: A Blade at the Forehead

Wuning City

The Wang family was in utter chaos. Upon hearing that Wang Yan’er had provoked the Grand Freedom Demon Sect, everyone—from the family head to the lowest-ranking members who knew of the incident—was seized with panic, losing all sense of order and composure. The pressure exerted by the powers of a Sacred Land was unspeakable; in ordinary times, one could pretend such forces did not exist, but when the blade hovered overhead, the inescapable terror became all too real.

Many openly complained about Wang Yan’er. In the blink of an eye, she had transformed from the cherished jewel of the family and a rising star among the younger generation into a calamity—a harbinger of misfortune whom, it seemed, everyone had long suspected.

Wang Yan’er was utterly flustered, at a loss for what to do. Distraught, she stumbled through the panicked, disorganized crowd fleeing without any plan, and stepped outside the gates just as a massive flying artifact descended, blotting out the sun. Its monstrous, grotesque tentacles lashed about, exuding an indescribable aura that made some so weak-kneed with fear they collapsed to the ground.

Wang Yan’er, fighting back tears, summoned her courage and called out to the onlookers, “Such evil cultists—we should all band together…” Before she could finish, the crowd scattered like frightened beasts. They had come merely for spectacle, not to confront the Grand Freedom Demon Sect! If they got involved, their lives would be forfeit.

Wang Yan’er stood stunned. What she was experiencing now was nothing like the legendary tales of wandering heroes or her own adventures in the martial world. For a moment, she felt as though the entire world were a fraud.

As she looked around in helpless desperation, an overwhelming, unseen force suddenly struck her, slamming her into her own doorstep. Blood spattered as she raised her head with effort and saw, descending from the flying artifact, the adorable child she had met at the market. The powerful figures surrounding him radiated awe-inspiring presence, especially a refined man in his thirties, around whom swirled the unmistakable power of a Martial Emperor.

“Martial Emperor… a Martial Emperor?” Wang Yan’er murmured, tears streaming down her face. “Impossible, impossible! This can’t be real! It’s all fake! Hahaha…” Her reaction was understandable; for a second-tier family in this city, even glimpsing a Martial King was a rarity, let alone the actual rulers of most regions in the Azure Realm—a Martial Emperor.

Witnessing Tang Dao’s imposing might, many members of the Wang family were plunged into despair, ready to face death like rabbits frozen by the gaze of a hawk, unable even to move. The primal fear left them hopeless.

Meanwhile, after delivering a slap, Zhang Ning found the affair exceedingly dull. Such a weak opponent, a so-called powerhouse of the People’s Rankings? Even Zhang Ning, who had only just attained the Martial Platform realm, could easily crush her (though his cultivation method, the Cloud Freedom Visualization, was well-suited to fighting above his level). He had expected an epic battle, but now it seemed… Zhang Ning didn’t even need to leave the “Cthulhu Battleship.”

Shaking his head, Zhang Ning said, “Clear out the direct line; deal with the collateral branches later.” With that, he departed, and his formidable subordinates all bowed in acknowledgement. Han Zun followed a few steps behind.

The Wu Family

Wu Youshu looked at her nine-year-old sister, Wu Shuangshu, who gazed up at her with reverence and seriousness. Hearing her say, “It’s not your fault,” Wu Youshu felt as if a great hand were gripping her heart, overwhelming her with sorrow.

Wu Youshu had rushed home and alerted her family to the crisis. Their first reaction was not to blame her, but to immediately pack up and flee in groups. A handful of peers gathered before her, offering comfort and pledging to follow her commands in these final moments.

For daughters of noble families, no matter how outstanding their martial prowess, they were usually valued only as bargaining chips in marriage alliances. Yet her family had wholeheartedly supported her martial cultivation, never demanding she do anything for the family, and her parents showered her with love, never restricting her with the usual admonitions for girls.

And what had she repaid them with? Foolishness—inviting disaster into their midst! She had forgotten that those who die first are often not the foolish, but the overly clever. All she had wanted was to befriend Wang Yan’er, to strengthen ties between their families, never expecting such calamity.

If, in the end, she fell into the hands of the Grand Freedom Demon Sect… Wu Youshu, for a moment, wished only to end her life to atone for her mistake, but ultimately could not bring herself to do it. If her death could resolve everything, so be it—but what of her family?

Gritting her teeth, Wu Youshu made her decision. She marched into her room, grabbed an item, and dashed out.

There are those for whom family is the most important thing in the world—no person or matter compares. Life, dignity, morality, all are dust that can be swept aside.

Wu Youshu was clearly one of them.

Rushing out the gate, she found that the carriages and horses always parked outside—visitors seeking favor or audience—were all gone, leaving the entrance deserted. She gazed at the ordinary townsfolk and vendors who remained, still ignorant of events, and at the bleak daylight, laughing bitterly.

Without a shred of dignity, Wu Youshu then dropped to her knees.

In that moment, the sound of hoofbeats echoed—“clop, clop.” A boy of about fourteen or fifteen, his skin bronze, face expressionless and radiating murderous intent, rode up. The horse’s red fur shimmered, emanating heat; clearly, it was an extraordinary beast.

This gave Wu Youshu insight. The Wu family’s estate lay on the outskirts of Wuning City, adjacent to Snow Drift City, which maintained a year-round snowy climate. Martial artists often struggled to adapt, so a sudden attack here could hinder their full strength. The boy from the Grand Freedom Demon Sect (his cloud-patterned robes were unmistakable) had ridden up on a fire-type beast, evidently unwilling to be at any disadvantage. Wu Youshu understood this battle-maniac mentality, and among the infamous members of the sect with such swagger, there was only one…

“Your Highness the Fourth Prince,” Wu Youshu’s voice was gentle, her demeanor humble, her head bowed low. “I am but a willow in the wind, yet I offer myself as your concubine, to be at your command.”

Yes.

The item she had grabbed from her room was a pillow.

Her words stunned not only the young clansmen who had followed her and now witnessed their faith collapse, but also the ordinary townsfolk who, unaware of the gravity of the situation, watched on with scorn and disbelief.

Such an offer was truly shocking. The daughter of the Wu family, renowned even among commoners for her accomplishments, had she really debased herself so much?