Regicide (Extra-long chapter)
That martial artist probably thought he was quite skilled and considered himself someone important. Even if he couldn't intervene in a fight at this level, surely he could at least speak up?
So he simply asked.
Emperor Joan of Arc glanced at the expert who was at least a fifth-rank master, but merely narrowed his eyes. He made no move and showed no aura. The expert who had leaned out and loudly inquired suddenly fell off the city wall.
His Primordial Spirit vanished, dying silently and without a trace.
Silence fell over the city walls. Ordinary soldiers and curious onlookers alike retreated in unison, glancing fearfully at "Prince Huai" before quickly averting their gazes, afraid to attract the attention of this terrifying figure and lest they become the second pitiful victim to die silently.
"Xu Qi'an, don't you pride yourself on being the people's champion? Aren't you the conscience of the Great Feng? Don't you boast that your reputation surpasses that of the imperial court?"
Joan of Arc's gaze was cold, filled with jealousy, anger, hatred, and disdain. Holding the sixty-foot-long giant sword, she roared:
"If you dare to dodge this sword strike, do you know how many people in the city will die when it falls?"
The whole story of the massacre was a thorn in Joan of Arc's side that she could never get rid of. She had been planning for many years to refine blood pills and soul pills, but they were sabotaged. The clone of the Prince of Huai died in Chuzhou. She tried to steal a chicken but lost the rice instead.
For a flamboyant and wicked "demon Daoist," this was enough to drive him mad with rage.
Moreover, Xu Qi'an stormed into the Meridian Gate, beheaded the Duke, and slapped the face of the emperor in front of the people.
How does it feel to be humiliated like this by a nobody?
Later, the supervisor, Zhao Shou, and all the civil and military officials forced him to issue an edict of self-reproach, and his face was once again stripped bare and trampled upon.
Even the most cunning person would be enraged, let alone someone who never concealed his evil intentions. Like the evil Daoist priests, Emperor Zhende firmly believed that human nature was inherently evil.
"You can try to stop me from gathering my sword energy, but you can't catch me. Of course," Joan of Arc paused, then laughed somewhat maniacally, "You can also dodge!"
As they spoke, another iron sword swept across the sky, merging into the giant sword and increasing its power even further.
On the city wall, soldiers nervously loaded shells into preheated cannons, their hands trembling.
But the centurion kicked him to the ground and shouted in a deep voice, "Run!"
Such a godlike figure is beyond the reach of artillery.
In an instant, the soldiers and warriors scattered to both sides of the city wall, like birds and beasts, leaving the city wall behind Xu Qi'an empty.
The giant sword was incredibly powerful, sixty feet long, and its Sword Qi burst through the clouds. It contained Sword Qi that was the result of a second-rank Human Sect cultivator's full strength.
If Luo Yuheng's talisman sword was a casual strike from a second-rank Human Sect master, then Zhen De's sword strike was a full-force strike from a second-rank Human Sect master who had been accumulating power for a long time.
The reason why Joan of Arc summoned such a large number of iron swords was simply because ordinary weapons could not withstand his overwhelming sword intent, leaving him with no other choice.
This sword not only contains magnificent Sword Qi, but also the power of a heart sword specifically designed to slay the Primordial Spirit.
Even though Xu Qi'an had fused with the Divine Power, allowing his Qi to reach the peak of the third rank, he still felt immense threat and pressure when facing a second- Daoist School master whose offensive techniques were no less than those of a martial artist.
If one were to take this sword strike head-on, the physical body might survive, but the Primordial Spirit might not.
Under normal circumstances, he could have dodged, but Joan of Arc used the people of the city as leverage to force him to take a sword strike.
This was Joan of Arc's purpose in pushing him outside the city.
If you accept it, you will have to bear the brunt of this devastating sword strike.
If he doesn't accept the offer, putting aside his reputation, Xu Qi'an's own Martial Dao heart will inevitably be tainted, making it difficult for him to maintain a clear mind.
Under immense pressure, Xu Qi'an searched his mind for his methods. Buddhist School precepts were ineffective against Joan of Arc unless he was also a second-rank or first-rank Buddhist School.
Meditation techniques certainly can't withstand this sword strike.
Confucian School and Law Technique cannot be used. If the sword is quelled by the method of Law Follows Speech, the backlash afterward will not be much weaker than suffering the sword itself.
The supervisor didn't make a move, seemingly because he was indeed entangled with Salun Agu. Although the supervisor had the home advantage of being in the capital, Salun Agu was a first-rank official who had lived for thousands of years. He couldn't defeat the supervisor in Great Feng, but he could at least hold him off for a while.
With the final iron sword joining in, Joan of Arc finally completed her sword technique. Her sword fingers trembled slightly, as if she herself could not control this immense power.
The entire capital city, with its three million inhabitants, was gripped by fear and unease under the oppressive force of this sword aura.
This is the second rank.
It was like the might of Heaven.
"Cut!"
Joan of Arc roared, a look of pleasure flashing across her face, and with her sword-like fingers manipulating the greatsword, she slashed down with all her might.
Xu Qi'an opened his eyes wide, watching the heaven-shattering sword descend. He stepped forward, opened his arms, and roared:
"Here comes the knife!"
A streak of clear light swept across the sky, like a shooting star, carrying with it layers of churning clouds.
The Confucian Sage's Carving Knife.
The first treasure of Confucian School, the Confucian sage once used it to inscribe timeless classics on bamboo slips.
The carving knife hummed and vibrated, filled with an unprecedented joy; it no longer appeared as if performing an official duty, unlike the previous two times.
This time, the carving knife emanated a strong emotional surge; it cheered, rejoiced, and felt its blood boiling, as if it had returned to its master's hands.
Xu Qi'an gripped the carving knife, his eyes gleaming with a clear light. He took another step forward and thrust the Confucian Sage carving knife forward.
The Sword Qi and the saber intent collided head-on.
Before the collision, the airspace between the two erupted with dazzling flames, as if two opposing domains were merging and producing a violent reaction.
Boom!
The collision of the two energies produced a terrifying explosion, as if the entire space collapsed, and destructive power swept across.
Soldiers and warriors on the city walls fell in droves, dying violent deaths.
The city wall behind Xu Qi'an first had its protective array collapse, then the wall cracked, gaps appeared, and finally it collapsed.
A section of the city wall collapsed with a loud crash.
The dust on the ground was swept away layer by layer, and the dust was swept into the sky by the boiling air, just like a sandstorm.
With another loud crash, the ground collapsed, creating a crater more than ten meters deep. Xu Qi'an and Emperor Zhen De remained unmoved, their feet seemingly suspended in mid-air.
Joan of Arc's face suddenly contorted, her cheek muscles bulged, and the veins on her forehead stood out. Her right arm, which was gripping the sword, trembled violently and became extremely unsteady.
Xu Qi'an's eyes flashed again, and he roared in a deep voice, "In my entire life, I have never believed in kings!"
With this roar, a thousand-armed demon with twelve pairs of arms flashed by above his head, followed by the image of an old man in a Confucian robe and hat.
Both the Confucian sage and the divine being thought it was excellent.
At the point where the carving knife and the greatsword clashed, a sickeningly loud sound rang out.
Iron swords shattered, either exploding into fragments or melting into molten iron.
Ordinary iron is still ordinary iron. After the Sword Qi of the second-grade Human Sect expert was exhausted, it quickly disintegrated, starting from the point of impact and spreading to the entire giant sword.
Amidst the falling molten iron and fragments of metal, Xu Qi'an pressed forward, plunging his carving knife into Emperor Joan of Arc's chest. With a roar of pain, he forcefully yanked it out.
One body was chosen.
The body was torn to pieces by the carving knife.
The physical body of Empress Joan of Arc.
The Yang spirit, shrouded in golden and dark light, detached from the physical body. On his chest, a clear light clung like a stubborn sore, impossible to remove.
Joan of Arc screamed in agony.
Just as Xu Qi'an was about to seize the opportunity to kill this Yang God, he suddenly sensed a dangerous scene in his mind. He turned around and slashed out with his Taiping Blade. Bang! Bang! The two figures separated after a brief contact.
As the Prince of Huai retreated, Joan of Arc's spirit entered into his body and merged with it.
Xu Qi'an calmly wielded the Taiping Blade, slicing Joan of Arc's body into tiny pieces, causing her to completely lose her original body and severing any possibility of resurrection.
"Luo Yuheng once told me that the most taboo thing for Daoist School expert in the Tribulation Transcending stage is losing their physical body, because the ultimate truth of a first-grade terrestrial immortal is actually the fusion of the Yang spirit and the physical body again."
"Joan of Arc, without this body you were born with, you've lost your chance to advance to the first rank. Even if you were to possess another body, you wouldn't be compatible with the Yang Spirit. Unless you're willing to spend hundreds of years slowly working your way up."
Xu Qi'an held the carving knife in his left hand and Taiping in his right, his expression calm.
Compared to dealing with a third-rank martial artist, the Confucian Sage's Carving Knife is more lethal to the Yang God, as Zhao Shou told him.
The carving knife is one of Xu Qi'an's trump cards, part of his plan to assassinate the emperor.
This blow not only ended Joan of Arc's "future" but also severely damaged her spirit.
Damn it, damn it, damn it!
Joan of Arc cursed through gritted teeth, her eyes filled with visceral malice.
"Xu Qi'an, my biggest regret is letting you live to this day. I should have killed you at all costs when you killed Duke Cao and Duke Huguo!"
This emperor, corrupted by the Earth Sect's influence, lost his ability to manage his emotions and became furious.
Xu Qi'an coldly observed his loss of composure, his chest heaving violently as he practiced breathing Qi Refinement to recover his strength.
The Prince of Huai was no longer at his peak, and Joan of Arc was also severely injured by the carving knife. Although he had exhausted his strength and his aura had declined slightly, the scales of victory had begun to tip in his favor.
After a moment of roaring, Empress Joan of Arc calmed down somewhat and stared at Xu Qi'an with malice:
"After reaching the second rank, like Luo Yuheng, I sought a way to quell the karmic fire. Her idea was to cultivate with the king, to borrow his fortune to quell the karmic fire and successfully pass the tribulation."
"For the first ten years, I shared the same thoughts as her. But the ensuing Battle of Shanhai Pass caused the Great Feng to lose nearly half of its fortune. This made me both surprised and regretful. I was surprised because I saw the desire for immortality, and neither warriors nor Daoist School could control the fortune."
"Even if I cultivate to become a first-grade terrestrial immortal, I will still die in the end. It's like the heavens are helping me. The regret is that Luo Yuheng then gave up the idea of cultivating with me. This made me lose the opportunity to seize her spiritual essence. For twenty-one years, no matter how much I asked, she never gave in."
"So I changed my mind. Since the path of the Human Sect is blocked, why not find another way? I can take the path of a martial artist, using the clone of the Prince of Huai as the main body, to refine the Blood Pill, absorb the essence of the Flower Goddess reincarnation, advance to the second rank, and then absorb the Yang God to become a first-rank martial artist that is unique in the world."
"Martial artists have almost no weaknesses, so they are naturally not afraid of being burned by karmic fire. But the price is severing the Daoist School system and the possibility of becoming a terrestrial immortal. Because when I transform into the Three Pure Ones, what emerges is the Primordial Spirit. Prince Huai and Yuan Jing are my sons, but ultimately they are not me."
"The physical body simply cannot be completely integrated, so I have to abandon my original body. Today, you helped me make that decision."
He squinted, gazing towards the palace, and slowly said:
"Judging by the time, it's about time! The people of the capital regard you as a hero, and today I will execute you, this hero of the Great Feng."
He stopped speaking and began to merge the two Primordial Spirit within his body.
The elements of earth, wind, water, and fire merged, transforming into streams of "turbid" energy that swirled around his body.
His Qi and Blood remained unchanged, but his aura began to surge.
But Xu Qi'an still didn't pay attention to this enemy who had suddenly become powerful. Instead, he turned his head and looked towards the palace.
Inside the palace, civil and military officials, nobles, imperial relatives, and imperial guards all simultaneously heard a mournful dragon's roar emanating from Emperor Yuanjing's bedchamber.
Countless people turned to look at the source of the sound.
At that moment, the royal family and their relatives suddenly felt a sharp pain in their chests, and a strange sense of fear welled up inside them.
It felt like the end of the world, like a catastrophe was about to strike.
Inside the Shaoyin Palace, Biao Biao lay face down on the table, her brows furrowed, clutching her chest, and cried out:
"It hurts so much, it hurts like hell!"
In the square behind the Meridian Gate, the Crown Prince clutched his chest, bent over, his face deathly pale, and his lips devoid of color.
"Your Highness, what's wrong?"
The guards behind him were shocked, and the courtiers turned their attention back to the Crown Prince.
Outside Jingyang Palace, Huaiqing leaned against the white jade balustrade, her eyes gleaming with genuine pain. But instead of clutching her chest, she clenched her fists and stared intently at Jingyang Palace.
"Hold head high"
Amidst a deafening roar, a golden dragon burst through the roof of Jingyang Palace, making the people inside the palace clearly visible.
"Dragon, dragon?!"
Exclamations erupted.
The spirit of the dragon vein left the earth and broke away from the Great Feng.
In the mouth of this golden dragon is a pearl, and inside the pearl is an eyeball, deep and mysterious like a whirlpool.
In a lake somewhere in the imperial city, the spirit dragon's black button-like eyes stared intently at the golden dragon swimming in the sky, its teeth bared in extreme anger.
Sangbo, the statue of the founding emperor, holds a brass sword that emits a piercing sword sound.
"Look, there's a dragon!"
"Look everyone, there's a dragon in the sky!"
On every street, pedestrians looked up at the golden dragon that was constantly swirling in the sky above the capital, emitting bursts of dragon roars.
Ordinary people only know about dragons, especially the dragons of the northern Demon Race, which often play the role of evil villains in picture books and storybooks, and have very vivid images.
"What on earth happened?"
What were those swords all about?
"I don't know, let's see what the imperial court says. Everyone, go wait by the notice board."
The various unusual phenomena, and the oppressive aura that had just been unsettling and unsettling, were things that every living being could perceive.
At the Star-Gazing Tower, the moment the spirit of the dragon vein appeared, the supervisor seemed unable to contain himself any longer; his eyes, which had been as calm as an ancient well, suddenly shot out a dazzling, clear light.
The supervisor raised his hand and grabbed at the golden dragon.
But he caught nothing; it was as if the golden dragon and he were from different worlds.
Salun Agu, holding a sheep-driving whip in his hand, said with a smile:
"In Great Feng, although I am no match for you, I can still stop you."
The supervisor remained silent.
Joan of Arc leaped into the air and shouted, "Come!"
The golden dragon, summoned by it, twisted its body and rode the clouds to arrive.
Joan of Arc stood atop the dragon's head, looking down upon Xu Qi'an from high above.
Why are you standing so high?
Xu Qi'an floated in the air, facing off against Emperor Zhen De from afar.
Empress Joan of Arc, standing atop the spirit of a dragon vein, was blessed with good fortune and possessed the power of a sorcerer god, feeling an unprecedented sense of confidence:
"As long as the Great Feng exists, I will remain the ruler of the country. With the blessing of destiny upon me, Xu Qi'an, what can you use to fight me? You have the Confucian Sage's Carving Knife, but I have the Sword that Protects the Nation."
The sound was thunderous.
This caused a stir throughout the capital.
People gazed at the golden dragon in the distant sky. Although they couldn't see the figure on the dragon's head, they clearly heard what Empress Joan of Arc had just said.
"That person calls himself "I", is that person your Majesty?"
"He's fighting Xu Yinluo."
In Dafeng, there is only one person who dares to call himself "I".
What can I possibly use to fight you?
Xu Qi'an looked straight ahead and said calmly:
"There are some things I need to tell you, so you can die knowing why."
His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, only loud enough for Emperor Joan of Arc to hear; the common people in the city did not have the hearing to hear it.
Joan of Arc looked at him coldly.
Xu Qi'an's smile held a deeper meaning, "Do you know why Luo Yuheng is unwilling to cultivate with you? It's because the man she truly has her eye on is me."
Joan of Arc scoffed and sneered, "A provocation? Foolish. If you think these shallow words can anger me, then go ahead and continue."
Xu Qi'an looked at the emperor, who had reigned on the dragon throne for sixty years, with pity and said:
"You've been fighting me for so long, haven't you noticed I also know Heart Sword?"
Joan of Arc's face darkened.
"Chu Yuanzhen and I are on good terms, but he is Registered Disciple of the Human Sect and cannot, without permission, teach swordsmanship to outsiders. Back in Jianzhou, I used a talisman to summon Luo Yuheng, and of course she had to come, because her man was in danger. Otherwise, given her personality—living in seclusion at Lingbao Temple for twenty years, never venturing out, and never taking action—would she act without a reason?"
"Furthermore, you think she intervened in our battle to help the new king ascend the throne, but what if I told you she did it because of me?"
With each word Xu Qi'an spoke, Joan of Arc's face grew darker.
He had long coveted Luo Yuheng for twenty years, yearning to cultivate with her, but was rejected every time.
Now, Xu Qi'an is telling him that the woman who coldly rejected him, seemingly an ethereal fairy untouched by worldly affairs, actually admires him and wants to cultivate together?
Even though Joan of Arc harbored ill intentions towards Luo Yuheng, hearing such words still inevitably ignited a raging fire of anger within her.
"Oh, right, there's one more thing."
Xu Qi'an smiled, "You already know that I killed Prince Huai, and that the sealed artifact beneath Sangbo is inside me. So, you must also know the whereabouts of the Princess Consort."
Joan of Arc's face suddenly stiffened.
Xu Qi'an said leisurely, "She is now my mistress."
His Qi and Blood rushed to his face. If Luo Yuheng was merely slapping him in the face, then the fact that the princess was taken as a concubine by Xu Qi'an was a blatant humiliation and a trampling on his dignity.
The princess was his woman, a woman in his harem. Even if she was later given to the Prince of Zhenbei, wasn't the Prince of Zhenbei still him?
As the ruler of a country, he absolutely could not tolerate such humiliation.
"Xu Qi'an, I will tear you to pieces! Tear you to pieces!!"
Joan of Arc went completely berserk, her face contorted in rage, her hair standing on end, and she roared, "Sword, come!"
In Chuzhou, the mysterious master once picked up the Zhenguo Sword, which puzzled Joan of Arc for a long time until Xu Qi'an's identity was revealed, at which point he suddenly understood.
Just as the demonic monk beneath Sangbo was shielded from the heavenly secrets by the supervisor, Xu Qi'an was likely able to grasp the Zhenguo Sword because of the supervisor's assistance.
If anyone outside the royal family could wield the sword that protects the nation, then that person would undoubtedly be the Imperial Censor.
But this time is different. Back then, the Prince of Huai was a prince, but now he is a true emperor.
Moreover, he is the ruler of a nation whose feet tread upon the spirit of a dragon vein.
Looking across the Great Feng, this fortune is unique.
The supervisor was now entangled with Salun Agu and was unable to intervene.
Boom!
Sangbo, the Yongzhen Mountain and River Temple exploded, and the brass sword shot into the sky, turning into a streak of light and flying away.
The streak of light swept across the sky, passing through the pupils of everyone who looked up, and countless eyes followed its trajectory.
The Great Feng Dynasty's Supreme Treasure, the National Guardian Sword!
During the Battle of Shanhai Pass, the emperor took the Zhenguo Sword from the Yongzhen Shanhe Temple and handed it over to the Prince of Zhenbei.
This story has been widely circulated.
The Zhenguo Sword is a symbol of the Great Feng royal family; this is common knowledge even among ordinary people.
Outside Jingyang Palace, Huaiqing's expression suddenly changed. "The Zhenguo Sword is ruined!"
"The Sword that Protects the Nation"
His Highness the Crown Prince's face turned ashen, and he looked at the Chief Minister with extreme fear.
All of this was completely beyond his imagination: the golden dragon suddenly soaring into the sky, his father suddenly appearing with divine might, and the Great Feng's peerless divine weapon, the State-Protecting Sword, symbolizing the royal family.
His recent decision to close the palace gates tightly, and the ulterior motives behind it, could not have escaped the Emperor's notice.
Disaster is imminent.
The chief minister did not respond, but simply nodded calmly to him, signaling him not to lose his composure.
Inner city, a small courtyard.
The woman in the cloth skirt carefully climbed the ladder to the roof.
She gazed at the horizon, still unable to see any signs of battle, only occasionally hearing muffled thunderous explosions.
I knew this day would come sooner or later. After Wei Yuan died, I knew you were going to assassinate the emperor. She clenched her fists tightly.
You must live.
On the outskirts of Beijing, the Black Lotus Daoist, whose aura had weakened to the extreme, regained his strength once more. Looking at the stunningly beautiful woman, whose fierce power was now invincible, he laughed wildly:
"Luo Yuheng, did you hear that? The Zhenguo Sword is specifically designed to destroy the physical bodies of martial artists. With the Supervisor unable to intervene, Zhen De is invincible in the capital region—no, in the Great Feng region."
Invincible? Luo Yuheng scoffed, "I'll allow you to live a little longer."
She immediately turned her head, looked towards the capital, and narrowed her beautiful eyes.
After this battle, you'll be mine.
A smile played at the corners of her lips.
The supervisor walked to the edge of the Eight Trigrams Platform and gazed at the streak of light that originated from Sangbo and swept across half of the capital.
Salun Agu tightened his grip on the sheep-driving whip.
The two top-ranking individuals did not actually fight, but their domains were already clashing fiercely, silently.
All eyes were on that streak of light. In this ultimate duel, the National Sword was the key, the crucial factor influencing the entire outcome.
The light of the Xu Qi'an Qi'an's pupils. His pupils dilated slightly, making him appear listless and empty, as if his attention was scattered.
What flashed through his mind were the fallen civilians in the Chuzhou massacre, like weeds; the soldiers on the city wall saluting him after he killed the Prince of Zhenbei; Zheng Xinghuai's desolate figure as he ran around the capital seeking help but to no avail; and his eyes that could not close as he died in prison.
At Caishikou, there were countless respectful gazes; outside Yuyang Pass, there were Great Feng soldiers eager to defend their homeland and repel the enemy.
Finally, he thought of that blue robe.
Neither reputation nor personal qualities matter to that person.
That person lived his whole life for only two things: love and faith.
The former refers to oneself, the latter to the nation and its people.
What has been the purpose of my life?
He stretched out his hand and roared, "Sword, come!"
The streak of light hurtled towards him, landing him in Xu Qi'an's hands.
It never changed its course; from beginning to end, it chose Xu Qi'an.
This peerless weapon, which accompanied Emperor Gaozu in his campaigns, abandoned his bloodline and chose an outsider.
The sword that guarded the nation was chosen by Xu Qi'an. Everyone who witnessed this scene stared wide-eyed.
Xu Qi'an gripped the brass sword and, under the frozen expression of Emperor Joan of Arc, roared once more, "Spirit Dragon!"
Awooooo!
In the imperial city and palace, countless people heard the roar of the spirit dragon.
The dragon broke through the waves, soaring through the clouds and mist, its nostrils spewing out specks of purple qi, its scales shimmering with purple light.
With a crisp "crack" sound, its bones underwent an astonishing transformation. Beneath the scales, muscles bulged out one by one, and the dragon's body lengthened, becoming more slender and agile.
Its horns split on its head, thick mane grew from its neck, and its claws and fangs became even sharper.
Those two black button-like pupils contracted and elongated, turning into vertical pupils.
It became more like a dragon, a dragon in the truest sense.
Riding the dragon through the clouds at incredible speed, it seemed eager to pounce on its "master."
Xu Qi'an landed lightly on its back, holding the National Protection Sword in his right hand and the Confucian Sage Carving Knife in his left, with the spirit dragon under his feet.
"Impossible! This is impossible!"
Joan of Arc's face turned extremely ugly; his eyes widened, and his pupils trembled slightly.
"What right do you have to command a spirit dragon? What right do you have to wield the national treasure sword?!"
He felt a kind of anger, as if the whole world had betrayed him.
This feeling was like the sharpest weapon, piercing his heart.
The Sword of National Protection was left behind by the Emperor Gaozu. It possesses a spirit and only recognizes members of the royal family. The spirit dragon, in addition, must attach itself to the royal family in order to consume the purple qi to survive.
However, neither of these two items chose him.
Empress Joan of Arc was shocked, and some people in the capital were even more shocked, such as the Crown Prince, Huaiqing, a number of fourth-rank military officers, and members of the imperial family.
The Imperial Palace.
The crown prince led his civil and military officials to the top of the city wall at the Meridian Gate. From there, they could vaguely see the two sides locked in fierce battle on the distant horizon.
"Why did the National Sword choose Xu Qi'an? Why did the Spirit Dragon choose Xu Qi'an?"
The crown prince looked around, his voice shrill, "Who will tell me? Who will tell me?"
Especially the Spirit Dragon. When the Crown Prince was young, he loved riding the Spirit Dragon the most, and he was proud of the fact that the Spirit Dragon only got close to members of the royal family, which was a privilege unique to members of the royal family.
Members of the royal family did not possess such privileges.
Those princesses, princes, and sons of nobles could only watch enviously from the shore.
But what did he see now? He saw Linglong willingly accept the identity of a "commoner" and fight valiantly for him.
They saw Xu Qi'an riding a spirit dragon, fiercely fighting with the king of a country.
The crown prince was greatly shocked.
The civil and military officials around him had complicated expressions, but none of them could give him an answer.
Yes, why did Linglong choose Xu Qi'an?
Why did the Emperor summon the Sword of the Nation, and it chose Xu Qi'an?
What exactly is Xu Qi'an's identity?
A series of questions flashed through the minds of the ministers.
What exactly is Xu Qi'an's identity? His identity is definitely not simple, otherwise, why would the Spirit Dragon and the National Sword choose him instead of His Majesty?
"Who... who is he? Is he His Majesty's illegitimate son?"
One of the civil officials said in a low voice with a complicated expression.
The surrounding officials, upon hearing this, fell into deep thought.
The crown prince felt a sudden chill.
"No, Xu Qi'an is over twenty years old, while His Majesty has been cultivating for twenty-one years, or to be precise, twenty-one and a half years."
"Then how do you explain the current situation?"
The crown prince breathed a sigh of relief; his earlier loss of composure stemmed from the same suspicion.
"Because His Majesty is tyrannical!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw it was Chief Minister Wang.
The Grand Secretary Wang surveyed the assembled officials and declared loudly, "Everything Xu Qi'an said outside the capital is true. His Majesty colluded with the Witch God Cult to cut off the army's supplies and joined forces with them to kill Wei Yuan. The Emperor is tyrannical, Xu Qi'an is here to punish him."
The courtiers began to stir.
It must be admitted that what the Prime Minister said is highly credible.
They witnessed His Majesty's unparalleled cultivation firsthand. The choices made by the National Guardian Sword and the Spirit Dragon also corroborated this statement.
They only recognized the royal family's divine weapons and spirit beasts, and all chose Xu Qi'an.
This is more effective than any other evidence.
A tyrannical ruler!
This word flashed through the minds of the gentlemen.
On the outskirts of Beijing, Luo Yuheng sliced through a large patch of thick liquid with a single sword stroke and sneered, "How about that?"
Black Lotus didn't answer; her eyes held malice, madness, but even more so, fear.
He no longer fought with the utmost ferocity, but merely engaged in prolonged skirmishes, and began to consider retreating.
His luck was indeed strong; both the Spirit Dragon and the National Sword chose him. Luo Yuheng pursed his lips, his smile deepening.
Also in the suburbs of Beijing, in another location.
Chu Yuanzhen sat cross-legged on the spine of the sword, gazing at the distant battle. Even the slightest trace of that terrifying energy sent shivers down the spines of the four men.
"Is this his trump card?"
Chu Yuanzhen looked at the Holy Maiden of the Heavenly Sect beside him, the top scholar's expression incredibly complicated. "What, what exactly is his identity?"
He once thought number three was Xu Xinnian, but later discovered that number three was the lecherous Xu Qi'an. Now he thinks that Xu Qi'an is still Xu Qi'an, but he may not be the Xu Household's Xu Qi'an.
"How should I know?" Li Miaozhen rolled her eyes.
She didn't care about Xu Qi'an's identity; she only cared whether Xu Qi'an could defeat Joan of Arc and whether anything unexpected would happen.
"That's incredible, absolutely incredible."
Chu Yuanzhen muttered to himself.
It's understandable that Empress Joan of Arc was tyrannical and alienated from her followers, but that doesn't mean that Linglong and Zhenguo Sword would choose Xu Qi'an.
There are countless incompetent and tyrannical rulers, yet these two have never been so proactive.
So the problem still lies with Xu Qi'an.
In the tense atmosphere, Lina muttered, "I'm so hungry."
"Why? Because you've been abandoned by everyone. It wasn't the Spirit Dragon and the National Sword that chose me; it was they who chose the Great Feng."
Xu Qi'an finished charging up his energy and calmly thrust out the carving knife, aiming at Emperor Yuanjing's brow.
The Confucian sage's carving knife, the cleaving of heaven and earth, the sword of the heart, the lion's roar, and the cultivation of will are all fused into one furnace.
Jade shattered!
A dazzling burst of clear light
When people are in dire straits and have nowhere to retreat, they would rather be shattered jade than survive as a broken tile.
This blow was unavoidable.
Earth, wind, water, and fire merge into four flowing colors, forming a slightly murky barrier that stands before the carving knife.
From the mouth of the Dragon Vein Spirit, within the transparent bead, the Witch God's eyeball shot out a beam of dark light.
"Roar!"
The dragon spewed out a large amount of purple qi, which poured into the carving knife, allowing the purple qi to merge with the pure energy.
The dark light scattered upon impact with the carving knife.
The power of earth, fire, water, and fire dissipated.
Both Empress Zhen De and Xu Qi'an developed cracks on their foreheads, from which blood flowed continuously.
"Ah!!!"
Empress Joan of Arc screamed in agony.
The Yang God suffered a severe blow.
A soldier who has crossed the river has nowhere to retreat but can assassinate his lord!
Ignoring the blood streaming down his forehead, Xu Qi'an raised the Zhenguo Sword. The spirit dragon turned its head and exhaled another breath of purple qi, which coiled around the sword.
The sword that guards the nation vibrated and hummed.
"Spirit Dragon!"
He roared.
The spirit dragon roared and charged towards the golden dragon, towards Emperor Yuanjing. Xu Qi'an, riding this spirit beast, pierced the Zhenguo Sword.
Jade shattered!
It was another tragic end.
Dark light flashed repeatedly as the Witch God's eyes continuously emitted dark light, but it could not diminish Xu Qi'an's will, nor could it diminish the purple qi spewed out by the spirit dragon. Helplessly, it shattered upon impact with the National Guardian Sword.
Empress Joan of Arc's spirit was injured, and she was no longer able to control the power of the four elements formed by the fusion of earth, wind, water, and fire. Instinctively, she threw out her fist and unleashed her fist intent.
Puff!
Ignoring the dark light, Xu Qi'an withstood the punch and let the sword pierce into Emperor Zhen De's chest. He was like a cavalryman holding a long-haired man, lifting the enemy high into the air.
Blood flowed from Xu Qi'an's chest; he also had a penetrating wound.
He paid no attention, gripped the hilt of his sword, and thrust the sword forward a few more times, its Sword Qi eroding the life force of the third-rank martial artist.
Xu Qi'an laughed and said, "Your Majesty, you have cultivated for twenty-one years. Have you ever heard the cries of the people in your dreams?"
He grabbed Joan of Arc by the neck, drew his sword, and cut off her feet.
With her eyes bloodshot and severely injured, Empress Joan of Arc unleashed her potential, gathering the elements of earth, wind, water, and fire in her right palm to form the Four Symbols Sword, which she then plunged into Xu Qi'an's chest.
"Your Majesty, I am demanding payment from you on behalf of Duke Wei and his 80,000 soldiers," he said sarcastically.
The sword that guards the nation severed his right arm again.
"You traitorous traitor!"
Empress Joan of Arc was in immense pain and felt deeply humiliated. After ruling the court for sixty years, she had been challenged to this day by a mere commoner who used his ancestral national sword to confront her and berate her to her face.
He clenched his remaining left hand into a fist and slammed it hard into Xu Qi'an's temple.
When!
The deafening roar echoed throughout the heavens and earth.
Xu Qi'an instantly bled from all seven orifices, and the fiery halo around the back of his head nearly went out.
The sword that guarded the nation fell, severing the last arm of Empress Joan of Arc.
All four limbs were severed.
A sinister orange smile slowly spread across Xu Qi'an's face, which was bleeding from all seven orifices:
"I forgot to tell you, Lin'an and I have already made a secret engagement. After I kill you, I will take the opportunity to ascend the throne, take your place, and marry your granddaughter, well, your nominal daughter."
Everything you have is mine. Today, the entire capital is watching me kill you!
Joan of Arc's eyes widened, and her pupils trembled.
Humiliation, resentment, anger, and hatred surged within him. He had lived through two dynasties, leading a glorious life and wielding supreme power.
In the end, it all ended in such a humiliating way.
Xu Qi'an held the sword to his neck, feeling immense satisfaction. "This time, I will destroy your body, making it impossible for you to be reborn."
With a swipe, a head rolled off.
His spirit left his body and fled swiftly. Joan of Arc roared, "Come!"
The spirit of the dragon vein soared into the sky, opened its massive mouth, and swallowed Joan of Arc's yang spirit into its belly.
"Xu Qi'an, I will not let you go. I will kill you at all costs, wipe out everyone around you, and make sure you never have peace for the rest of your lives."
From within the golden dragon came Joan of Arc's venomous roar.
Dragon veins are a type of fortune, and Xu Qi'an can't do anything about them. Neither the carving knife nor the Zhenguo Sword can cut them down. Although the spirit dragon can devour fortune, the spirit of the dragon vein is not pure purple qi.
Unexpectedly, the unique nature of the dragon vein ultimately became his last protection.
Even though his physical body was destroyed, as long as his Yang spirit remained, he was still a second-rank official.
Just then, the fragment of the Earth Book flew out from Xu Qi'an's arms, and a slightly curved dragon tooth flew out from the mirror. The talisman engraved on its surface, which could make people dizzy, lit up.
The dragon's fang roared away, easily catching up with the spirit of the dragon vein and piercing it through!
"No!!"
A mournful scream rang out from Joan of Arc.
Immediately afterwards, with a loud "boom," the spirit of the dragon vein exploded into fragments, scattering in all directions and turning into streaks of light that disappeared at the horizon.
Joan of Arc's spirit had no support anymore and was attacked by the dragon's teeth, causing her spirit to dim and lose its luster.
Xu Qi'an charged in on his spirit dragon, his carving knife piercing Zhen De's brow and his national sword plunged into her chest.
A dazzling light and Sword Qi burst forth.
The Yang spirit melted away rapidly, like solid ice under the scorching sun.
"Joan of Arc, it's time to set off."
Xu Qi'an
Amidst cries of resentment and pain, the Yang spirit dissipated completely.
This emperor, who had overlooked the court for sixty years, has vanished completely.
P. S.: I actually finished writing this chapter around midnight, but after reviewing it again, I found it wasn't good enough and not satisfying, so I deleted nearly four thousand words.
Then I revised and edited it for a long time. I really tried my best to write a chapter that I was satisfied with. This is my last act of defiance. Please be gentle with your criticism. I'm afraid of getting hurt.