Feng Bozhou watched as the sun slowly rose.
By noon, the palace ceremonies had concluded, and the Crown Prince might have already left the palace with the imperial edict and ceremonial artifacts, heading to the Ancestral Temple to inherit the dragon lineage.
Gu Wen had not come out yet, but Feng Bozhou could sense his presence inside, so he wasn't in a hurry.
According to the original plan, Zhao Feng should have just finished the investiture ceremony in the palace and be on his way to the Ancestral Temple.
Gu Wen’s role was to become the nutrient for the Crown Prince to refine the Dao weapon after the ceremony.
Initially, they intended to eliminate Gu Wen, the last surviving member of the Gu family.
Although he posed no significant threat to the Zhao family, they had a habit of extinguishing any potential danger.
Due to Yu Hua’s influence, they decided it was best not to provoke her.
Even if the celestial maiden of the Daoist sects might have already forgotten about him.
"The time has come, Marquis Wen. It’s time to go to the Ancestral Temple."
Inside the room, Gu Wen slowly opened his eyes, a faint red light emanating and enveloping Feng Bozhou, causing his pupils to contract sharply and his body temperature to drop by several degrees.
"Nobles of the realm within the ninefold heavens, honored outside the five ranks of marquises."
Gu Wen slowly stood up, a murderous aura pouring out like a breached dam, darkening the skies over Bianjing.
A crimson dragon slowly rose, its red scales gleaming brightly, spiraling in the sky and gazing down at the mortals below.
Its tail extended to the ground, forming a carpet that transformed into a crown, providing a step for Gu Wen as he walked out of the room.
He exhaled slowly, the west wind stirring the desolate scene.
The Great Qian Dynasty revered imperial power above all.
The Zhao family had placed a collar on everyone, using loyalty and filial piety as chains, declaring every action as the will of heaven.
The emperor’s alchemy, which plundered the wealth of the world and left countless people homeless, was considered heavenly will.
The emperor's construction of Dao palaces, which demolished homes and displaced citizens, was cursed by the people, yet also considered heavenly will.
The Zhao family's theft of his immortal fate and life was also deemed heavenly grace.
The three great immortal sects arrived one after another, declaring that the fate of the heavens could not be altered.
Their rules, their views, their teachings, their decrees—Gu Wen did not recognize any of them.
He only believed:
"A mad reveler in plain clothes, refusing to let his fate be controlled by heaven and earth."
With a virtual grip of his right hand, a mysterious heavy spear appeared.
A fiery spear aura surrounded it, transforming its once ugly appearance into a weapon of pure slaughter.
The entire court, the nobility and royalty, today would become bones beneath his feet!
Feng Bozhou broke into a cold sweat, his breath coming in gasps, nearly stopping.
He struggled to escape the influence of Gu Wen’s dharma form.
In that brief but deadly moment, even a third-realm powerhouse like him couldn’t make sense of the situation.
He couldn’t understand how a mere servant suddenly transformed into a primordial beast, a dragon crossing the river.
His first instinct wasn’t to counterattack but to flee!
As Feng Bozhou took a step back, before his foot could land, Gu Wen flashed and was already within six feet of him, his Zhaolie dharma form unleashed.
With eyes full of killing intent, Gu Wen put all his strength into one spear thrust, enveloping it with the power of a thousand pounds.
Feng Bozhou barely had time to react as the spear, carrying immense force, pierced through the air toward him.
The sheer power behind the attack seemed capable of shattering mountains and splitting the earth.
A thunderous sound echoed across half of Bianjing, and three buildings in Gu Wen's estate collapsed, with the outermost high wall crumbling to the ground.
Feng Bozhou was thrown a hundred meters away, rolling dozens of times before coming to a stop, blood pouring from his mouth in large quantities.
Clutching his chest, his court attire was reduced to shreds, and his chest was a bloody mess, with tendrils of "red smoke" rising from it.
This was the killing intent he forced out with his mana, intertwined with it like smoke.
Typically, killing intent could at most harm someone's soul; directly injuring someone physically was exceedingly difficult.
Similar to mana and spiritual energy, without using Daoist techniques to refine it, pure spiritual energy was just like a breeze, regardless of its amount.
Killing intent, while more lethal, was not fundamentally different.
Normally, demonic cultivators would use methods to mix killing intent with their techniques, utilizing it as they would spiritual energy.
Gu Wen’s killing intent was different; it was pure and untainted, unadulterated by any other elements.
He didn't need to accumulate it through killing, enhance it with secret techniques, or refine it with demonic arts.
A single breath of resolve was enough to surpass the ferocity of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
"You...you are that military prodigy from Longqiao that day."
Feng Bozhou finally remembered, disbelief filling his eyes.
"Impossible! When did you possess a Dao foundation, and how are you even stronger than you were at Longqiao? This cannot be!"
It was not just that a servant could not possess such power, but also that Gu Wen had not been his match that day.
In just a few days, he couldn’t even withstand one move from him now.
Gu Wen’s body slightly hunched, executing the third level of his Falling Moon Step, leaping three zhang forward, each step covering ten meters, moving as swiftly as a gust of wind.
The air shattered with the force of his movement, the blue stone slabs of Bianjing Avenue splintering underfoot as a tsunami of killing intent enveloped the area, spearheading his assault.
Feng Bozhou was no ordinary opponent; he was an ancient monster with over a thousand years of experience in combat.
Although he couldn't comprehend Gu Wen’s abnormal growth in power, his reflexes were sharp.
He summoned a white lotus.
Mana surged, and the lotus bloomed, its petals clashing with the spear aura with a deafening impact.
As soon as he withstood the first attack, he prepared to counter, releasing a barrage of silver needles from his sleeves.
Each needle was a magical artifact; a hundred together formed a spirit treasure.
Gu Wen did not retreat.
Stepping forward, he struck again with tremendous force, causing the white lotus spirit treasure to fracture slightly.
Feng Bozhou was driven back a meter, the stone slabs beneath his feet upheaved.
He pinned his hopes on the silver needles, betting on mutual destruction.
Engaging without probing the opponent first, exchanging injury for injury—this was clearly not the action of an experienced warrior.
Even a prodigious talent of the new generation would find this approach too reckless.
Could he really be...
In one-tenth of a second, another spear strike landed.
Within a single breath, ten consecutive strikes shattered the lotus further.
The silver needles seemed to take an eternity before they finally reached Gu Wen.
Clang!
The needles bounced off, a shadow enveloping Gu Wen, its color dark as night.
The Xuanwu spirit image activated the Lingyu Protective Technique, rendering his body as hard as steel and forming an external barrier like a bronze bell.
This was the marvel of the spirit image, enhancing the corresponding Daoist techniques.
The relationship was akin to that of magical artifacts and spirit treasures; their efficacy depended on the material, and possessing a spirit treasure allowed the user to wield it with greater ease, requiring less mental effort to control.
A spirit image was the 'spirit' of Daoist techniques, granting the cultivator a completely autonomous Daoist technique, often with a perfectly suited counterpart.
Feng Bozhou’s pupils contracted as he exclaimed, "A holy spirit image? You are not Gu Wen! You are merely a distant relative of the Gu family, incapable of accessing cultivation techniques!"
Everything must be compared to reveal differences.
Among all techniques, the Five Elements are foundational, the source of myriad laws, with the pinnacle being the Five Holy Spirits of the Three Purities Dao Sect.
How did Gu Wen possess the method to refine the Five Holy Spirits, and how did he succeed in cultivating it?
Originally, their main lineage left no one alive precisely to prevent anyone with cultivation potential from secretly hiding their power.
It was known that those capable of establishing a Dao foundation were naturally gifted, and without actively using their mana, their abilities would remain concealed.
In the realm of immortals, everyone is a prodigy—whether current or former—but there are no wastrels.
Thus, Gu Wen was chosen as an ordinary person, at least until that night five years ago, he was just a mere mortal.
And today, he has surpassed me?!
Feng Bozhou struggled to comprehend how someone he had once considered beneath notice now wielded power that eclipsed his own.
The Xuanwu spirit image enveloping Gu Wen was unmistakable—a sign of immense strength and potential.
"You shouldn’t have this power! How did you achieve this?!" Feng Bozhou’s voice was filled with disbelief and fear.
Gu Wen’s eyes were cold, his killing intent palpable.
He was done hiding, done being the prey.
Now, he was the predator, and nothing would stop him from claiming his vengeance.
With a flick of his wrist, the spear thrummed with energy.
The oppressive atmosphere intensified as he took another step forward, each movement calculated, precise, deadly.
"You want to know how? Try to survive this, and maybe you’ll find out," Gu Wen said, his voice dripping with disdain.
Feng Bozhou’s instincts screamed at him to flee, but pride and duty bound him to stand his ground.
He summoned every ounce of his strength, every bit of his accumulated knowledge and power, to defend against the relentless onslaught.
The white lotus attempted to bloom again, its petals shimmering with defensive energy.
But Gu Wen’s spear, imbued with the pure essence of his killing intent, struck with the force of a thunderclap, shattering the defense with ease.
Feng Bozhou’s silver needles, once a deadly threat, were now mere annoyances.
The protective barrier provided by the Xuanwu spirit image rendered them ineffective.
Each strike of Gu Wen’s spear drove Feng Bozhou further back, his footing increasingly unstable.
"You think the Zhao family can protect you? That their name alone makes you invincible?" Gu Wen sneered, his attacks unrelenting. "Titles and names mean nothing. Only power matters."
Feng Bozhou’s defenses crumbled further under the relentless assault.
He coughed up blood, his vision blurring as the reality of his situation set in.
This was no ordinary battle; this was an execution.
Gu Wen’s spear finally broke through, piercing through the remnants of the white lotus and embedding itself in Feng Bozhou’s chest.
The force of the impact sent shockwaves through his body, extinguishing his life force in an instant.
The courtyard fell silent, the oppressive aura dissipating as Gu Wen withdrew his spear, the crimson dragon above him roaring triumphantly.
As Feng Bozhou’s body slumped to the ground, Gu Wen stood tall, his eyes burning with resolve.
Today marked the beginning of his retribution, and he would not rest until every wrong had been righted.
The path of the spear was one of righteousness and ferocity.
He had declared his intent to the heavens and the earth, and nothing would deter him from his quest for justice.
The skies over Bianjing cleared, the dawn of a new era heralded by the roar of a dragon and the fall of a tyrant.
Gu Wen’s journey was far from over, but with each step, he moved closer to his ultimate goal.