As the figures behind him emerged, Chen Pengyi narrowed his eyes at Mu Changtian in the distance and sneered coldly. "Teacher… even now, there are still people willing to risk their lives to save you?"
He stepped forward, his voice carrying mockery and disdain.
"It seems your image of loyalty and patriotism is nothing more than an illusion. If you truly stood by His Majesty and cared for this nation, then the least you could do now… is end your life with dignity."
Without waiting for a response, Chen Pengyi's legs burst with strength. In the blink of an eye, he shot forward like a bolt of lightning and arrived directly in front of Mu Changtian.
With a powerful swing, his blade sliced through the air—its edge gleaming with a cold, murderous light.
A blinding flash of white surged toward Mu Changtian's face.
At that moment, Chen Pengyi was confident—certain that the strike would end the once-glorious King of the War Hall.
But in the very instant his blade was about to land, a surge of force exploded from Mu Changtian's body. A faint, crackling aura surged outward like rippling thunder, forming a protective barrier of energy that enveloped him entirely.
And then—Mu Changtian raised his hand… and caught the blade with his bare palm.
Clang!
The force of impact reverberated across the courtyard.
Chen Pengyi's eyes widened in disbelief.
Even the two grandmasters standing behind him—seasoned veterans of many battles—momentarily froze in shock. All those who had surrounded Duke Mu's mansion earlier were dumbstruck.
Hadn't His Majesty administered a power-dispersing pill to every male member of Duke Mu's household?
Hadn't it been confirmed that none of them possessed an ounce of inner strength anymore?
What was this overwhelming force exuding from Mu Changtian now?
No... this was not the aura of a powerless man.
This was the oppressive might of a cultivator standing at the gates of supremacy—this was the strength of a Grandmaster!
In the past, people wondered why Mu Changtian had been granted the title of Duke and revered across the Great Xia Dynasty. Was it simply due to his loyalty to Emperor Xia during the early struggles for the throne?
Certainly not.
It was because within the ranks of Grandmasters, few could truly challenge him. His might on the battlefield and unmatched prowess in martial duels earned him the title "God of War."
Even when his household had been seized following the Zhou family's rebellion, the Great Xia Dynasty had only dared to act because Grandmaster Situ Ce—the Imperial Master himself—personally took part in subduing Mu Changtian.
And now… he had not been stripped of his power?
Chen Pengyi's voice trembled. "Y-You… how is it possible that you haven't lost your strength?!"
His mind raced. As a former disciple of Mu Changtian, he had followed the man into battle, seen firsthand his terrifying skills—skills that cut down foes like wheat before a scythe.
He had been assured that this mission would be easy. That Mu Changtian was crippled, powerless. That this would be a swift and glorious execution to win the Emperor's trust.
But now?
Now, it felt like he was facing death incarnate.
Fear clawed at his insides.
A bead of sweat dripped down his temple.
Yet just then, one of the masters behind him calmly said, "Don't panic. His body protection qi is unstable. His strength hasn't fully returned. At best, he's a half-step Grandmaster."
The voice was cold and steady, slicing through the moment of chaos like a knife.
These men were not ordinary warriors. They were seasoned experts—masters in their own right—and could discern the state of another's cultivation at a glance.
Indeed, while the Great Da Huan Pill had begun restoring Mu Changtian's power, there hadn't been enough time for his strength to fully return. Even now, he was still adjusting internally.
Still, to display even half-step Grandmaster strength in such a short time… was nothing short of terrifying.
But Chen Pengyi's confidence returned immediately.
His lips curled into a mocking grin. "Teacher… you almost had me fooled!"
"But this is even better. Since you still retain some strength, then let this be a true farewell between student and master."
With a vicious roar, Chen Pengyi pulled his blade free from Mu Changtian's hand and slashed again—this time unleashing a cutting wave of qi, swift and deadly.
Mu Changtian's expression didn't waver. He sidestepped swiftly, avoiding the strike, and prepared himself.
Just then, the two grandmasters at Chen Pengyi's side joined the fray. Though Mu Changtian was weakened, none of them dared to take him lightly.
This was the War God of DaXia.
From the side, Mu Jingwu and Mu Xingping saw their father besieged and immediately rushed forward to assist.
Though they were no match for Grandmasters—being merely at the eighth level—their intervention helped alleviate some pressure from the encirclement, buying Mu Changtian critical seconds to breathe and maneuver.
The clash of swords and bursts of inner force echoed through the courtyard, a symphony of chaos and struggle.
The red-clad warriors—sent by the mysterious prince—remained close to the women and children of Duke Mu's mansion, forming a tight perimeter to protect them. Though their strength was high, they were still outnumbered and outclassed by the enemy.
Among Chen Pengyi's forces were several ninth-grade cultivators, and under the relentless assault, the red-clothed warriors began to falter.
Amidst the bloody melee, Mu Changtian took a heavy blow from one of the enemy masters. The strike sent him flying, crashing into the yard wall. Dust rose as his back slammed against the stone.
He staggered to stand, blood trickling down his lip.
Chen Pengyi's laughter echoed arrogantly through the yard. "Teacher… you really are getting old."
Mu Changtian wiped the blood away, his eyes like burning coals. "Chen Pengyi… even if I die here today, I'll make sure you accompany me to the grave!"
As his words fell, the air around him shifted.
His qi suddenly soared, rising violently like a volcano ready to erupt.
Chen Pengyi's pupils shrank. He shouted in panic, "No! He's going to use the Blood Burning Technique!"
"Stop him! Now—!"
But before he could finish, a cold shnk echoed across the yard.
Chen Pengyi froze.
His body trembled.
A long blade had pierced straight through his back—and out through his chest.
A master's defense… shattered.
He tried to turn his head, eyes wide in horror, to see who had stabbed him.
But before he could even glimpse the attacker—shnk!—another strike followed, piercing deeper, severing his hopes and spine in one ruthless motion.
The scene was so sudden, so savage, that everyone—Mu Changtian's side and Chen Pengyi's—stood still in stunned silence.
One of Chen Pengyi's grandmasters bellowed, "Wei Chao! What are you doing?!"
Mu Changtian was equally stunned. He had prepared to unleash the deadly Blood Burning Technique—a suicidal method—but now, a ninth-grade warrior from the enemy's ranks had betrayed them?
Just… who was this man?
In the chaos, the grandmaster lunged at Wei Chao in fury, but Wei Chao's reactions were lightning-fast. Borrowing strength from the attacker's own blade, he flipped, vaulted off the man's shoulder, and leapt gracefully onto the rooftop.
He turned, and with a smile, called down to Mu Changtian: "Duke Mu, the Blood Burning Technique is not to be used lightly! If the prince sees you gravely injured, we might all get punished."
Mu Changtian's breath hitched.
Prince…?
His mind reeled.
So this Wei Chao… was also one of the mysterious prince's men?
And he'd been hiding right under Chen Pengyi's nose all along?
To place such a vital agent at the side of the emperor's trusted executioner—how deep did this prince's plans run?
Wei Chao's betrayal had shaken the battlefield to its core.
And in that moment, a new thought bloomed in Mu Changtian's mind.
Just who… is this prince really?
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