First Encounter

However, in this chaotic battle, two figures drew particular attention.

Those were the two leading men in tight martial arts attire, their long sabers flashing like lightning. Every strike carried Thunderous Might with astonishing destructive power.

Moreover, their moves were ruthless and precise, each saber accurately piercing the vital points of the Prince's Estate guards and instantly claiming a life.

Clearly, the strength of these two men in tight attire was far beyond ordinary; they were definitely Houtian-level Grandmaster experts!

Such experts, even throughout the entire Great Yan, were figures capable of establishing their own sects!

Just as the fierce battle reached its height, a figure flashed by like lightning, moving so fast that people had no time to react at all.

Clang! Two rings of striking metal exploded as the newcomer's long sword collided with the weapons of the two Houtian grandmasters, sending sparks flying.

In the blink of an eye, the three figures simultaneously blasted backward.

When they landed, the bluestone pavement actually bore footprints of varying depths, stamped out by sheer force!

After the newcomer landed completely, the crowd finally saw his appearance clearly.

This was merely a middle-aged man dressed in coarse linen, his face utterly ordinary, just like common folk in the marketplace, without a single special feature.

Yet beneath this plain exterior lay a pair of eyes as still as an ancient well, the depths of those eyes faintly revealing a heart-palpitating edge.

It was none other than Wang Cang, whom Mu Bai called Uncle Cang!

"A Houtian grandmaster?! Who are you!" Seeing this, the burly man on the left constricted his pupils sharply, the knuckles of his hand gripping the saber hilt turning slightly pale from excessive force.

It must be known that they were family servants of the Langya Family, and they knew that two Houtian grandmaster-level martial artists had already fallen right here in the Carefree Prince's Estate.

At this very moment, they could almost conclude that this unassuming middle-aged man before them was likely the culprit.

Wang Cang held his long sword horizontally across his chest, the dark patterns on the blade flickering in the light and shadow.

His voice was exceptionally calm, like a pool of still water without the slightest ripple: "I am Wang Cang, merely a nobody under the command of the Carefree Prince."

The estate guards, however, stood frozen in place, their weapons trembling slightly.

Three days ago, it was this very middle-aged man who had carried two jars of Shao Daozi, making them willingly shout "Brother Cang" and sitting with them around the back kitchen to drink and play finger-guessing games.

Looking at the faint True Qi around his body now, and recalling how he always said he was "old and frail, unable to lift a sword," everyone felt their throats tighten.

"Clatter!" The burly man on the right suddenly shook his numb wrist, his blade scraping harshly against the ground: "So what if you're a Houtian grandmaster? No one can save Mu Rongyi today!"

Before his voice finished falling, his figure burst upward, his saber light transforming into a skyful of cold stars.

Wang Cang tapped his toes, his figure shuttling through the saber shadows like a ghost.

His long sword slipped three inches from its sheath, the tip spitting out cold radiance. Seemingly casual jabs and stabs precisely sealed off all of the opponent's attacking routes.

In the blink of an eye, the two had already exchanged over thirty moves. The surrounding guards could not even clearly see the trajectories of the sword and saber, hearing only rapid collisions like a torrential rain beating on roof tiles.

Right at that moment.

"Stop!" A clear voice came from not far away, and twelve light-armored warriors trotted out in neat formation.

The leading two figures had restrained auras that concealed sharp edges, shockingly also Houtian-level Grandmaster experts.

The middle-aged man walking slowly in the center wore a dark-colored brocade robe, the jade pendant at his waist swaying slightly with his pace, and he was none other than the Carefree Prince, Mu Rongyi.

"Greetings, Your Highness!" Wang Cang sheathed his long sword and dropped to one knee.

The momentum around his body instantly receded, transforming him back into the appearance of a humble servant, as if the mighty expert who had just fiercely battled Houtian grandmasters was not him at all.

At this moment, the two men in tight attire from the Langya Family looked at each other, their inner shock beyond expression.

Originally, they had assumed that the two Houtian grandmasters who previously perished here must have been careless and arrogant, falling victim to some traps of the Carefree Prince's Estate, and thus they held the estate in utter contempt.

Coming here this time, they even harbored a touch of disdain, feeling that capturing the Carefree Prince's Estate was merely a matter of reaching out and taking it.

Yet the scene before their eyes completely subverted their understanding.

Counting Wang Cang, who had just made a move, the Carefree Prince actually had three Houtian-level grandmasters under his command!

One had to know that Houtian martial artists numbered only a few dozen in Great Yan, each capable of founding a sect and standing as a well-deserved martial arts grandmaster.

Throughout the entire Great Yan pugilistic world, the appearance of any single Houtian grandmaster was enough to cause a huge uproar. Yet now the Carefree Prince possessed three; this strength simply exceeded imagination.

Knowing that Wang Cang's appearance had already startled them greatly, and now two more equally terrifying existences had emerged, this made the wariness in their hearts grow wildly.

Cold sweat trickled slowly down their spines, soaking the clothes on their backs. They suddenly realized that they had likely underestimated the strength of the Carefree Prince's Estate and fallen into an extremely perilous situation.

The burly man on the right gripped his saber tightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as his voice involuntarily trembled slightly: "Carefree Prince, you certainly hid yourself deep."

A hint of terror laced his words, while a trace of stubbornness still lingered in his gaze.

The Carefree Prince's lips curled into a meaningful smile, his gaze sweeping over the two like a falcon's: "You two traveled from afar, thinking my estate is a soft persimmon for anyone to knead?"

The mockery in those words was like a sharp blade, piercing a wave of pain into the hearts of the two.

The burly man on the left forcefully suppressed the terror in his heart and said in a deep voice: "Even if you have three Houtian grandmasters, the two of us are also Houtian practitioners, and we won't be easily defeated by you!"

Yet despite his harsh words, his confidence was clearly insufficient.

His voice trembled, and the hand holding the long sword shook slightly, exposing the panic within his heart.

The two grandmasters behind the Carefree Prince simultaneously stepped forward, their auras suddenly erupting, causing the air to seem to stagnate.

An invisible pressure surged toward them, and the two from the Langya Family felt it difficult to breathe, as if a giant hand named fear was tightly gripping their throats.

The two from the Langya Family knew clearly that in their current plight, facing this terrifying lineup, they had almost no chance of victory.

Yet as people of the Langya Family, they absolutely could not easily retreat, their hearts filled with entanglement and struggle.

"Take them, dead or alive!"

The Carefree Prince raised his hand slightly and spoke in a cold voice.

At this critical juncture, a Buddhist chant outside the courtyard resounded from far to near.

"Amitabha."