Fearless of the Royal Family

Xiao Yun had been arrogant and overbearing since childhood, deeply favored by the current Emperor Xiao Zhengshan. He could practically walk sideways in the Capital City, so when had he ever been treated with such disregard?

At this moment, being questioned in public by a "lowly prisoner" in his eyes, he immediately felt his dignity trampled.

"You think you're worthy of speaking to this Heir Apparent?"

Xiao Yun's face darkened, looking like it could drip water, killing intent blazing in his eyes:

"If you know what's good for you, cooperate obediently. Once Guild Leader Du calms down, perhaps this Heir Apparent can spare your dog life.

If you dare to court death again, there's only a dead end for you."

"I've lived long enough. Let's do it."

Zhang Yu's tone was calm, even carrying a hint of indifference.

This utter disregard completely ignited Xiao Yun's rage.

He could no longer maintain his Heir Apparent's demeanor and shouted sternly, "Take him down, dead or alive."

The two guards, whose auras were fierce, were filled with apprehension towards Zhang Yu, but their master's orders were absolute, and they dared not disobey.

The two exchanged a look, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in their eyes. Simultaneously, with a clang, they drew the sabers at their waists and, one on the left and one on the right, prepared to rush into the prison cell and forcibly capture Zhang Yu!

These two guards were both Eighth Rank martial artists. Anywhere else in the Capital City, they would be considered quite capable.

Now, they attacked with all their might, their momentum fierce, their saber light illuminating the dim prison cell even further.

Xiao Sheng watched from the side, his heart pounding.

Although he knew Zhang Yu was powerful, he had never actually seen Zhang Yu fight. Seeing two Eighth Rank experts attack simultaneously, he couldn't help but worry for Zhang Yu.

However, facing this sharp pincer attack, Zhang Yu remained seated cross-legged on the bed, motionless, not even lifting an eyelid.

Just as the guards' saber edges were about to touch the bars, and their bodies were about to break into the prison cell—

"Kneel."

A sharp command cut through the air.

There was no earth-shattering burst of power, no flashy exchange of moves.

But the moment these two simple words were spoken, the two aggressive Eighth Rank guards felt an irresistible, terrifying pressure, like a collapsing mountain ten thousand feet high, instantly pressing down on their shoulders.

It wasn't just a pressure of strength; it was an absolute crushing of their martial will, originating from a higher level of existence.

Their internal energy seemed to freeze at that moment, the surging blood in their meridians instantly stagnated, their minds went blank, leaving only boundless fear and a sense of insignificance.

This was the power of Soul Power.

All martial artists and cultivators in the world, before ascending to become Land Immortals, did not cultivate their souls.

And Zhang Yu had three years of soul cultivation.

Let alone two mere Eighth Rank cultivators, even Innate Masters and Grandmasters could not be completely immune to Zhang Yu's soul attack.

"Thump! Thump!"

Two muffled sounds rang out almost simultaneously.

Under the horrified gazes of Xiao Yun, Xiao Sheng, and all their attendants and jailers, the two powerful Eighth Rank guards, as if they had heard a royal decree, knelt without hesitation on the cold, hard stone floor.

The sound of their knees hitting the ground was particularly jarring in the dead silence of the prison.

The two guards' faces turned deathly pale. They desperately tried to struggle to their feet but felt as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on them, unable to move even a finger.

Their gazes towards Zhang Yu were filled with boundless fear and disbelief, as if they were looking at a god, or perhaps an abyss.

How was this possible?

This completely surpassed their understanding.

They were Eighth Rank martial artists. Even facing Ninth Rank and Innate Masters, they would never be forced to their knees by a single shout without any power to resist.

Unless... unless the other party was... a Grandmaster?

But how was this possible?

This young man before them looked no older than twenty, how could he be a legendary Martial Arts Grandmaster?

In the entire Wei Kingdom, there were only three Grandmasters openly acknowledged, and each of them had been famous for decades, awe-inspiring figures.

Was it an illusion?

Or some kind of profound demonic art?

Not only were the two guards stunned, but Xiao Sheng beside them was also completely dumbfounded, his mouth agape wide enough to fit an egg, his eyes bulging almost out of their sockets.

He knew Zhang Yu was powerful, a Ninth Rank, but... but this was too outrageous!

With a single "Kneel," two Eighth Rank experts actually knelt?

Was this some kind of play-acting?

But looking at the pale faces and trembling bodies of the two guards, it was clearly not an act.

The sneer and anger on Xiao Yun's face froze instantly. Like a duck whose neck had been gripped, his eyes widened, staring intently at his two trusted guards kneeling on the ground, unable to move.

Then he suddenly turned his head to look at Zhang Yu, who remained calm in the prison cell. His mind went blank, and for a moment, he couldn't react.

"How is this possible... how could this happen..."

Xiao Yun muttered to himself, the arrogance on his face instantly replaced by shock and bewilderment.

He couldn't comprehend what was happening before his eyes; it completely overturned his understanding of martial arts.

"Good! Good! Good!"

Xiao Yun suddenly snapped back to reality, his face flushing and paling, a mixture of shame, anger, fear, and disbelief.

"As expected of someone from Marquis Yong'an's Estate, you certainly have some wicked tricks up your sleeve."