Yang Cheng finally turned around, his gaze cold as a frozen pond.
He hadn't even lifted the hands clasped behind his back when countless streaks of blood-red sword qi burst out from his body.
The green poisonous mist sizzled the instant it touched the blood-colored sword qi, then vanished in a puff of white vapor.
As the twin black-gold blades slashed down, Yang Cheng's figure flickered forward. Moving faster than even a half-god could follow, he shattered the net of blade light like paper.
The Blood Sea Sword Talisman fell into his hand, transforming into a sword seemingly forged from living blood.
With a single stroke, every icy blade filling the air was pulverized.
"Half-god? You're nothing but worthless trash."
His tone was calm—so calm it made the air tremble.
Before the last word even faded, Yang Cheng merged with his sword, turning into a streak of crimson lightning that cut through the air.
Two blood-red trails shot straight toward the two half-gods.
Feeling the crushing sense of death close in, they tried to summon every ounce of power to resist.
But against Yang Cheng's overwhelming might, their efforts were laughably weak.
In less than a heartbeat, one half-god's head was sliced clean off, spinning into the air.
The other tried to flee but suddenly felt a coldness spread through his lower abdomen. Looking down, he saw a thin red line stretching from his throat to his belly.
A breath later, his body split apart like a puppet cut in two and collapsed.
The last two assassins turned pale as death. They glanced at each other—then spun around and fled without hesitation.
Yang Cheng's lips curled slightly, his expression sharp as a blade. "You come when you please and leave when you wish? Do you think the Great Zhou Imperial Palace is some place you can just stroll in and out of?"
The blood-red sword flew from his hand, shooting toward the two fleeing half-gods with the speed of lightning.
It didn't explode into a blinding beam of light. Instead, it was silent—like a drop of blood falling into a cold pond, rippling unseen yet spreading everywhere.
The assassins had just torn open a spatial rift when they felt an unbearable weight crash down on their backs—as if a mountain of ten thousand tons pressed upon them.
The blood sword formed from the Blood Sea Talisman hummed deep within their souls, locking all routes of escape.
"Break!"
The killer on the left roared. Channeling all his life's cultivation, he condensed a black mystical shield, its surface covered with glowing frost runes.
But the instant the blood sword touched it, those runes melted away like ice under sunlight.
The blade pierced through the shield without the slightest resistance. With a light vibration, it shattered the assassin's soul into dust.
His body hit the ground in mid-lunge, eyes wide open, still frozen in terror.
Seeing this, the assassin on the right felt his heart seize in panic. Ignoring the tearing pain in his soul, he forcefully ignited his life flame, unleashing the Fire Escape Technique.
A burst of scarlet fire wrapped around him, and his body transformed into a beam of light shooting toward the dense forest beyond the palace walls.
Yang Cheng stood unmoving, eyes cold as ancient ice. The fingers behind his back twitched slightly.
The blood sword instantly split into thousands of crimson threads, spreading like a vast spiderweb that swept across the night.
Pfft, pfft!
Muffled explosions echoed from within the forest. The crimson fire vanished without a trace.
Moments later, the blood-colored threads drifted back and fused together again.
Da, da, da!
A flurry of footsteps approached—the palace guards, their faces pale with fear.
The earlier shockwaves from the battle had left them trembling.
To them, that kind of half-god aura was no different from that of a god.
When they finally saw the terrifying assassins all lying dead—and the Crown Prince still standing there unharmed—their fear melted away.
In its place rose a fierce, unshakable pride.
So what if they were gods?
Their Crown Prince was stronger than gods—and had slain them.
Yang Cheng didn't spare another glance at the corpses. He knew the palace attendants would handle them.
"Cheng'er."
Yun Liyue's voice came softly from within the palace.
"Mother, please rest and heal well. I'll be away for a few days," Yang Cheng said gently.
After a moment of silence, Yun Liyue replied, "Be careful."
"I will."
With that, Yang Cheng stepped out and vanished into the night.
Once the blood blade was unsealed, there was no reason to put it away so soon.
He was heading to the Horn Constellation Realm.
That's right—he wasn't thinking about destroying Western Luo.
He was going straight to the Horn Constellation Realm... to annihilate the Ouyang Clan.
If the Ouyang Clan dared stir up chaos in the Wasteland Realm, then he would uproot their entire family from their very foundation in the Horn Constellation Realm.
Only that would be enough to send a message—one powerful enough to shake the heavens.
For others in the Wasteland Realm, reaching the Horn Constellation Realm might seem impossible.
Yang Cheng wasn't unfamiliar with this place.
Because he had been here before.
He stood above the Wasteland Realm, upon a floating island suspended in the sky.
High above the island loomed a vast and terrifying spatial gate.
Deep within the floating island sat a mysterious man wearing a black mask.
"Wasteland Realm being?"
The man's tone carried surprise when Yang Cheng appeared.
He had seen countless foreign beings come from the heavens beyond, but this was the first time he'd ever seen a being from the Wasteland Realm arrive.
"Yes," Yang Cheng replied calmly.
The man asked, "Why have you come here?"
"To go to the Horn Constellation Realm."
"For what purpose?"
"To kill."
"There's great danger there."
"It's just killing people. Who cares about danger?"
"To transfer to the Horn Constellation Realm, it'll cost 3,000,000 top-grade spirit stones, or 30,000 divinestones."
Yang Cheng had long since prepared. Without hesitation, he handed over 3,000,000 top-grade spirit stones to the masked man.
"Go on then," said the man quietly.
Yang Cheng didn't linger. He stepped forward and entered the spatial gate.
The gate began to rotate, its surface rippling like a vortex of flowing light.
In the blink of an eye, Yang Cheng vanished.
The masked man muttered to himself, "According to destiny, the Son of Heaven's Mandate shouldn't have matured yet. How can someone already walk out of the Wasteland Realm?"
He sighed softly. "Forget it. Fate has long since changed."
Then he closed his eyes again, returning to stillness.
When Yang Cheng appeared once more, he found himself standing in a massive city.
It was bustling with life and activity.
Beneath his feet was another spatial gate, with a constant flow of people entering and leaving.
His sudden arrival didn't cause any commotion. At most, a few people gave him a curious glance—perhaps because of how young he looked.
"Ding'an City."
Yang Cheng recognized it immediately as Ding'an City of the Horn Constellation Realm.
From here, the Ouyang Clan's home in Linjiang City was about 100,000 li away.
Naturally, Yang Cheng had no intention of walking.
He found a merchant caravan and joined their convoy heading for Linjiang City, paying 5,000 top-grade spirit stones for the trip.
"Young Master Yang, you look quite young. How come you're traveling alone?" asked Li Rong'er, the caravan leader's daughter, curiosity lighting up her eyes.
She wasn't much older than seventeen and had already reached the Martial Emperor realm.
The merchant convoy traveled aboard three flying ships, each large enough to hold several hundred people.
Before Yang Cheng could reply, a young man approached with a wary expression.
It was Li Rong'er's older brother, Li Wentai.
In Li Wentai's eyes, his younger sister was exceptional—beautiful, talented, and destined to marry someone with a grand future.
Yang Cheng, on the other hand, was traveling alone without even a single guard.
To Li Wentai, that meant he was probably just a wandering cultivator with no background, unworthy of his sister's attention. He clearly didn't want them talking too much.
Li Rong'er frowned slightly at her brother's behavior, feeling dissatisfied.
She knew perfectly well her own worth and wouldn't marry just anyone.
But that didn't mean she couldn't talk to Yang Cheng—especially since he was so pleasing to the eye.
Still, with her brother hovering nearby, she couldn't chat freely.
Yang Cheng didn't mind. If anything, their restraint gave him some much-needed peace and quiet.
A day later, the flying ships reached Linjiang City.
The fare he had paid was well worth it—not only had it conserved his true qi, but it also allowed him to rest and recover his focus.
"Look ahead—that's the Ouyang Clan," Li Rong'er said reverently. "They're the number one noble house in Linjiang City, with assets worth at least 10,000,000 divinestones."
She pointed toward an enormous, lavish estate that stretched across the horizon like a royal palace.
As she spoke, Yang Cheng was already walking straight toward the Ouyang Clan's gates.