Outside the Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation—
No one at the front lines could see or hear what was happening deep inside the formation. All they could do was watch the burning stick of sandalwood dwindle lower and lower.
"Grade B?"
Zhao Kang squinted into the distance, so tense it was as if he were taking the test himself.
"When something's that off, there's always a trick behind it."
Xu Wencai fanned himself lazily with his feather fan. "The Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation is something Lord Chen and I already studied inside out. Judging by time, it should've been over long ago. If he still hasn't come out, something's gone wrong. Let's wait."
"..."
"Why isn't General Chen out yet?"
Bai Tingzhi tried to climb higher for a better view, but a few soldiers blocked his way with crossed blades.
"This general, please follow the rules. If you break order again, your qualification will be revoked."
"..."
Tang Yingke sat on a stone block, absently drawing lines on the ground with his sword tip.
"Brother!"
Bai Tingzhi leaned in and whispered, "Last time I saw you muttering a whole bunch to General Chen. You know something, don't you? Come on, tell me."
"Nothing."
Tang Yingke avoided his gaze. "Lord Chen's capable. He won't die."
"Won't die?"
Even Bai Tingzhi could hear the problem in those words.
No one died during formation trials.
If he said that… something was wrong!
…
"That's it?"
Yin Hanwen watched the burning sandalwood nearly reach its end. "I could break the Nine-Palace Formation myself. I thought this bumpkin was supposed to be amazing. Fails at the second trial—pathetic."
Wen Qiushi added smugly, "He still couldn't escape the Prince's palm."
Cao Fan said nothing, his gaze fixed on the formation, waiting.
A Grade B wouldn't be enough.
He wanted Chen Sanshi crippled—if not dead—so he'd never get in his way again. The plan was flawless. The one helping him was a Martial Saint, and behind that lay an even larger scheme tied to the Eight Great Camps themselves.
"Whoosh—"
The air suddenly split with the sharp whine of heavy steel slicing through it.
Cao Fan's brow furrowed as he picked up his Green Dragon Crescent Blade.
A blur came hurtling toward him—Bai Tingzhi, roaring as he swung his massive saber. "Prince or not, I'll cut you down!"
"Ha! A loyal dog that bites," Cao Fan sneered.
His father had once told him—there existed a certain kind of minister, the kind who, once he swore loyalty, would serve his master with absolute devotion. If such a general could be made to serve the throne, it would be an incredible asset.
So such people really did exist.
Unfortunately, this one wasn't his.
"What are you doing?"
Cao Fan's voice hardened. "Attacking a royal heir without cause—you want your entire clan executed?"
Bai Tingzhi barked, "Then tell me! Did you tamper with the formation?!"
"Ridiculous!"
Cao Fan laughed coldly. "That fool Chen couldn't even get through a formation—what does that have to do with me? Don't blame me for his incompetence!"
Before he could swing again, Bai Tingzhi was surrounded by guards.
He shouted past them, "Captain Li! There's something wrong with the formation!"
He wasn't just guessing.
Tang Yingke's strange behavior earlier had confirmed it—he knew something, but had chosen to stay quiet.
"Without evidence, you dare cause chaos?"
Captain Li Qianzong frowned. "If there's truly a problem, the chief examiners will investigate. You, however, are disrupting official proceedings! Seize him! After the trial, we'll decide whether to strip his qualification!"
"Clang—clang—clang—"
Several Tempering Organ Perfection generals—tasked with maintaining order—stepped forward, pressing Bai Tingzhi to the ground.
Captain Li turned toward the incense table with a sigh. Judging by timing, Chen Sanshi must've earned a Grade B at best. Even with Fang Qingyun's formation, the Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram was too difficult to break.
"Trial complete!"
"Chen Sanshi—Grade A!"
A booming voice accompanied the ringing of a copper gong.
At that exact moment, the incense flame went out.
"The first Grade A!"
"Grade A!"
The announcement rippled through the crowd.
Those who'd been eliminated—or had only managed a Grade B—stared in disbelief.
Even Cui Yongping and Xie Sishu were stunned. They'd thought Grade B was the highest possible this round.
The Nine-Palace Formation was that hard.
It was easy to talk theory—everyone knew the structure on paper. But once inside that sea of forty thousand soldiers, all the so-called Nine Palaces, Six Gates, and Three Mysteries became meaningless. Everyone ended up spinning in circles, unable to tell east from west.
And now, this countryside general, whose cultivation was lower than theirs, had somehow earned a Grade A. That meant his grasp of military formations—and his ability to adapt under pressure—were beyond extraordinary.
"Grade A?"
Just moments ago, Yin Hanwen and his group had been gloating. Now their faces froze.
Especially Cao Fan.
Even he wasn't confident he could get a Grade A. And he'd even planted traps inside—the weapons, the soldiers, all arranged perfectly.
'Truly capable…'
Even he had to admit, the man's ability was impressive. If not for their rivalry, and Chen Sanshi's refusal to submit, he would've been a talent worth recruiting.
'Still…'
'You might've cleared the trial—but your loyal dog won't.'
Cao Fan walked toward the restrained Bai Tingzhi.
"Captain Li, you saw it yourself. Lord Chen cleared the trial fair and square. So where's the so-called unfairness? This man deliberately disrupted the proceedings. Cancel his qualification and throw him in the cells!"
"Thud—"
A severed, blood-soaked head landed heavily on the ground before them.
Chen Sanshi stepped out of the dispersing formation, empty-handed. "Captain Li," he said evenly, "Bai Tingzhi wasn't wrong. Someone did tamper with the formation. Please don't punish him."
"Captain, we can testify!"
The soldiers who'd seen it firsthand came forward. "What Lord Chen says is true! The men guarding the Gate of Restraint were swapped out—some of them were Tempering Organ, and they were trying to kill him! Bring them up!"
The corpses of those Tempering Organ officers—and their surviving subordinates, beaten half-dead by the Azure Dragon and Vermilion Bird Battalions—were dragged over.
"These scum have disgraced the Eight Great Camps!"
The soldiers roared, voices unified. "Captain Li, please report to the chief examiners! This matter must be thoroughly investigated and severely punished!"
Before they could leave to make the report, a Meridian-Connecting deputy general strode in and shouted,
"Elite Selection—suspended!"
"Until it's determined who tampered with the formation, no one is allowed to leave!"
The words fell like thunder.
Suspension. Investigation.
Two short sentences, but they struck every heart like a hammer.
"Tampering with the Elite Selection?"
"Someone really dared to cheat during the trials?"
"Who could possibly have that much courage?!"
The crowd erupted in disbelief.
…
"Your Highness!"
Yin Hanwen's face went pale as he looked toward the raised platform where the investigation had begun. "This isn't good… looks like the Grand Commander really intends to investigate. If this gets out of hand, something serious could happen."
"..."
Wen Qiushi was equally uneasy. "Your Highness, will this… affect us?"
Cao Fan's expression remained calm, his tone unhurried. "When did I ever say I tampered with the Elite Selection? What are you two panicking for? With that kind of cowardice, how will you ever fight a real battle?"
He leaned back slightly, eyes sharp. "Don't worry. They'll find nothing linking back to me. And when the dust settles, the one who'll suffer won't be me—it'll be Sun Xiangzong."
He emphasized those last few words.
"Hmm?"
Yin Hanwen and Wen Qiushi exchanged a confused look.
Sun Xiangzong? Suffer?
Who in the Great Sheng Dynasty had the power to bring trouble upon that legendary old general?
"He's old."
Though Cao Fan was barely in his early twenties, the way he spoke carried the weight of a seasoned schemer. "Dealing with Chen Sanshi is only one part of this plan—it's not even the main goal."
He smiled faintly. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to bring disaster upon myself by meddling in the Elite Selection? No. This plan was designed for Sun Xiangzong. Once he dares to investigate, he'll have stepped right into the pit I dug for him. His reputation will be stained, his legacy ruined. Just wait and watch."
Cao Fan was far too intelligent to be just a spoiled prince. He wouldn't risk his position just to sabotage one minor rival.
This Elite Selection had two purposes.
First, to secure the method of breaking through beyond the Martial Saint realm, the very secret guarded by Sun Xiangzong.
Second, to infiltrate the Eight Great Camps and weaken the Sun family's control over the military.
"Self-damage to reputation?"
Yin Hanwen, born of a powerful family himself, instantly caught on. His eyes lit up with understanding. "Brilliant, Your Highness! Truly brilliant! Today's going to be quite a spectacle."
The rest of their companions whispered among themselves.
"What's even going on?"
"This kind of thing has never happened since the Elite Selection began."
"Tampering with the selection is no different from cheating in the imperial exams—it's a death sentence! No one escapes that!"
"Sure, in theory. But in practice? You think it's that simple?"
"Anyone bold enough to interfere in the Selection must have an unimaginably high status."
"If that's the case, how's this going to end?"
There was no precedent. No one knew how this would play out.
If the culprits held positions too high, would they really be executed?
But if they weren't punished, wouldn't that shatter the Elite Selection's credibility?
Then again—this year's Selection was likely to be Grand Commander Sun's last.
Rumors had already spread through court and commoners alike—he planned to retire soon. He'd already started giving up his authority over the years. Some even joked, "Old Sun Xiangzong—can he still lift a spoon?"
So maybe, just maybe, this entire scandal would be quietly buried.
After all, who would risk making powerful enemies on the eve of retirement?
"Whoever it is, once we find out—they must die!"
Bai Tingzhi said bluntly, his face cold as steel. "Otherwise, I won't participate in this kind of Selection ever again."
He had skipped the martial examinations to join the Elite Selection precisely because he believed it was fair.
And until now, it had been.
Even the mounts and weapons had been standardized to ensure fairness—until someone decided to pull this kind of trick.
It wasn't just him who was furious.
Martial officers from across the empire had come here because of Sun Xiangzong's reputation.
If this wasn't handled properly, it would chill the hearts of every warrior under heaven.
"This is going to blow up…"
Tang Yingke, who had just started to relax, tensed again.
In his opinion, the matter should've ended here. Chen Sanshi had cleared the trial—Grade A, no less. The damage was minimal. It would've been better to let things quietly settle down.
But if they kept pushing, the situation would only get worse.
After all, the one behind the tampering was the Crown Prince's son—the future heir. And those helping him might hold high ranks within the Eight Great Camps.
If this scandal exploded, even the Grand Commander himself might lose everything.
Was it really worth it?
"Ah…"
Tang Yingke sighed softly. "This Brother Chen… doesn't know when to hold back."
"..."
But the truth was, Chen Sanshi had already held back—too many times.
He'd swallowed insults, endured humiliation. Yet they wouldn't stop until he bent the knee like a dog. Should he really keep pretending nothing happened?
If he endured any longer, they'd only push harder.
Besides, those Tempering Organ officers had revealed their true strength before dying—every examiner on the wall had seen it. Even if Chen didn't report it, they'd have to act.
And to top it off, his men from the Azure Dragon Camp weren't the type to stay silent. Before he even gave the order, they'd already dragged the culprits out themselves.
Still, something didn't feel right.
Chen Sanshi noticed that even after the Selection was officially paused, Cao Fan's expression hadn't changed—no hint of panic, no guilt, just calm confidence.
Then his gaze shifted to the two men standing beside the Grand Commander.
A setup within a setup? A public trap meant to bring down Sun Xiangzong himself?
…
Under the eyes of tens of thousands, the three chief examiners approached the martial stage and took their seats upon the high platform. They began assigning officers to investigate—the commanders of the Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, and White Tiger Camps were ordered to lead the inquiry together.
"Gentlemen," Sun Xiangzong said quietly, his eyes unreadable, "you both believe this investigation should be carried out publicly, here before everyone?"
"Investigate—thoroughly!"
Inspector Hou's face twisted with fury. "The audacity! Lord Chen is an imperial general personally appointed by His Majesty. For someone to dare target him in broad daylight—it's outrageous!"
"Yes."
Governor Liu followed up quickly, nodding righteously. "Inspector Hou is right. We must find out the truth."
"Good."
Sun Xiangzong sighed, the corners of his mouth turning slightly. "I was thinking we could handle this quickly, get it over with, not waste everyone's time. But since you two insist on justice, you want me to conduct this investigation publicly, in front of a hundred thousand witnesses."
"Of course."
Governor Liu straightened his robe, his face solemn. "If we don't uncover the truth, how can we calm the hearts of the people?"
"Yes, Grand Commander," Inspector Hou added smoothly. "In two years, when we host the next Elite Selection, rumors of corruption would harm not only the Selection—but also our own reputations. We hope the Grand Commander will set an example for all to see."
Sun Xiangzong looked at them both, his gaze faintly weary, like an old man basking in the sun at the village gate. "Good," he said softly. "Since that's what you both want, then we'll do it your way—publicly, right here."
"Excellent."
Inspector Hou smiled thinly. "We agree."
Not long ago, Liu the Prefect and Inspector Hou had been at each other's throats—trading insults, practically ready to draw swords. Yet now, the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, united on the same front.
The atmosphere grew heavy and strange.
"Fourth Senior Brother," Sun Buqi frowned uneasily. "Shouldn't this be handled quickly? Just drag out whoever meddled with the formation and move on with the Selection. Why make such a huge show of it?"
"Because…"
Fang Qingyun replied softly, "They want to make sure Master loses face."
Since the day they'd arrived in Liangzhou, the court had been meddling nonstop—sending a prefect, a royal inspector, and replacing three of the Eight Great Camp commanders with officials loyal to the capital.
And why?
To divide the power. To seize control of the Eight Great Camps piece by piece.
But to succeed, they needed more than soldiers—they needed prestige.
Not only did the Prefect and the Inspector need to raise their own authority, but they also had to erode Grand Commander Sun Xiangzong's. Only through that balance of decline and rise could they take command completely.
Without anyone realizing it, this so-called "corruption inquiry" had become the key battlefield that would decide who would hold power over the Eight Great Camps in the future.
It was clear now—whoever orchestrated this must hold immense status.
Before the eyes of the world, if Sun Xiangzong mishandled the matter, his already fading reputation—diminished by years of voluntary retirement—would collapse entirely. And with it, his last remnants of control.
From then on, even if the army expanded, authority would be divided among multiple hands: Grand Commander, Prefect, Inspector—no one man in charge ever again.
And once Sun Xiangzong truly retired, the transition would be smooth, leaving no turbulence behind. The Eight Great Camps would officially, and completely, fall under imperial control.
"What?"
Sun Buqi's face paled. "Then what do we do? Is Father really going along with them? Has he gone senile?"
Even as his son, he didn't sound confident.
After all, in recent years, the old man had quietly allowed his authority to be split apart without protest. He'd even agreed to transfer several of his senior disciples away. Everything pointed to him preparing to retire from the battlefield.
"Just watch, Buqi," Fang Qingyun said calmly. "You've been sheltered too long. Too soft, too simple. I only hope what happens today will toughen you up."
He wheeled himself forward. "I've been named to the investigative committee. Time to do my part."
Sun Buqi looked around for advice, but his other senior brothers—Second and Seventh—had vanished without a trace. Only Fifth Brother Meng Guangxin remained.
…
Half an hour later.
More than thirty officers were brought before the high platform, forced to their knees.
"Master, Governor Liu, Inspector Hou."
Fang Qingyun saluted from his wheelchair. "The general outline of the case is clear. These men were temporarily transferred to assist in setting up the Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation."
Each of the Eight Great Camps had over 10,000 soldiers, but the formation required at least 40,000 men. So naturally, troops from every camp had been drawn in to fill different positions.
"Among them," Fang Qingyun continued, "the officers hiding within the Gate of Restraint—the Tempering Organ ones—were all hundred-commanders. Their direct superior, the one who issued their orders, was a thousand-commander named Zou Gengdao. All of these men…"
He paused, then finished, "...belong to the Cloud Central Camp, under the command of General Ning Changqun."
Cloud Central Camp.
Within the Eight Great Camps, there were currently two Martial Saints—one was Sun Xiangzong's eldest disciple, Lü Ji, and the other was none other than Ning Changqun, the Martial Champion personally appointed by the Emperor thirty years ago.
Ning Changqun had once commanded the imperial guards outside the capital. Three years ago, he'd been transferred to Liangzhou to take over both the Cloud Central Camp and the Sirius Camp—two entire divisions of soldiers.
In pure combat strength, he ranked among the top three in all Liangzhou.
Officially, Governor Liu and Inspector Hou were the imperial eyes and ears sent to "oversee" Sun Xiangzong. But in truth, Ning Changqun was the one who had actually taken over control of the troops.
His authority outweighed the other two combined.
And he wasn't just strong—he was ruthless.
Within six months of his arrival, he'd purged every officer from deputy general down to hundred-commander who showed the slightest disobedience.
Over the years, his influence had grown to rival even Lü Ji's.
Common gossip said that when Grand Commander Sun eventually stepped down, his successor would either be Lü Ji—or Ning Changqun. And since the latter was handpicked by the Emperor himself, his odds were far higher.
No one—out of the 100,000 soldiers in Liangzhou—had expected the scandal to come from Ning's Cloud Central Camp.
By regulation, such misconduct should drag even the commanding general into responsibility.
But would an aging man about to retire dare punish his likely successor?
No—that wasn't even the question.
He couldn't.
Ning Changqun was the Emperor's man. At best, there'd be a token reprimand. Nothing more.
And if this ended with just a slap on the wrist, everyone would understand what it meant.
Sun Xiangzong's prestige would be shattered. Even if he regretted retirement, he'd be forced to step down.
"An excellent move," Chen Sanshi thought immediately.
This trap hadn't been set by Cao Fan alone—it was a joint web woven by the Crown Prince, the Emperor, and the capital factions. Cao Fan was merely one piece on their board.
His appearance had only caused the game to play out a little earlier than planned.
Even if Chen hadn't exposed the tampering, they would've found another way to force Sun Xiangzong's fall. And if the Grand Commander chose silence, he would've lost Liangzhou entirely.
…
"Hmm."
Grand Commander Sun looked at the kneeling officers before him and spoke slowly. "Where is Ning Changqun?"
"Present, my lord!"
Ning Changqun stepped forward, his voice clear and firm. "I had no knowledge of this matter. I beg the Grand Commander to investigate freely and punish the guilty as you see fit."
"Zou Gengdao."
Sun Xiangzong's tone was calm, almost gentle. "Tell me—why did you do this?"
"No need to explain!"
Zou Gengdao said boldly, his voice loud and steady. "I acted alone. Kill me or cut me down as you please, Grand Commander!"
"Child, no need to rush."
Sun Xiangzong, in his simple coarse robe, looked nothing like a mighty commander. His voice was that of a patient old man. "Everything has a reason. Did you have a grudge with the young man named Chen? Or were you ordered—or perhaps threatened—by someone else? Speak the truth. You may not have to die."
Zou Gengdao turned his head to the side and shut his mouth tight, pretending not to hear a thing.
"You all," Sun Xiangzong's gaze swept across the rest of them, "have nothing to say either?"
Silence.
More than thirty men kneeled on the ground and not one uttered a sound.
"Outrageous!"
Inspector Hou barked angrily, his sharp voice cutting through the still air. "The Grand Commander is speaking to you! Are you deaf? Say something! Do you all have such a strong death wish? Speak! Maybe you'll still have a chance to live!"
Still, not a single man spoke.
The entire martial arena was silent as death.
At this moment, the supreme commander of Liangzhou—the founder of the Eight Great Camps—stood before his own soldiers and could not even get an answer.
Over thirty kneeling officers—all of them ready to die—showed neither fear nor the slightest trace of respect.
"Impudent!"
Meng Guangxin roared, snatching up a crescent halberd. "You bastards—tired of living, are you? How dare you show such disrespect to my master!"
"Fifth Brother."
Fang Qingyun reached out from his wheelchair and stopped him, giving him a subtle look. Meng Guangxin hesitated, then forced himself to lower the weapon, his face livid with restrained fury.
The other disciples were no better—their faces were pale and grim.
A commander ignored by his men—this was worse than losing a battle. It was a direct, public blow to his prestige.
"These men were chosen on purpose!"
Sun Buqi recognized them immediately. "They're all the ones Ning Changqun brought from the capital! Of course they won't listen to my father. This was meant to humiliate him from the start!"
But Sun Xiangzong's expression remained calm. "No one wants to speak?"
"Don't blame them, Grand Commander," Ning Changqun said smoothly. "They've been under my command for too long. They only recognize my orders. Allow me to question them."
He turned toward his men. "When the Grand Commander asks you something, you answer!"
And sure enough, the moment he spoke, the silence broke.
"Reporting to General Ning!"
Zou Gengdao's voice boomed like thunder as he knelt. "Not long ago, we had a quarrel with that man surnamed Chen. We found him displeasing to the eye, so we tried to block him in the formation—to ruin his chances!"
"Just that?" Ning Changqun's tone grew sharp as his eyes swept over the others. "Is that true?"
"Reporting to General Ning—it's true!"
Ning's voice hardened, full of authority. "Then answer this—what punishment should you receive for such behavior?"
"Death!"
"We willingly die to atone!"
"Well said—then die!"
"Crack!"
Ning Changqun raised his massive mountain-splitting axe and with one clean stroke took off Zou Gengdao's head. The man didn't even flinch—he had already stretched out his neck, waiting for the blade.
At Ning's glance, a squad of his subordinates came forward and handed each kneeling officer a standard Liangzhou Yanling Saber.
"What are you waiting for? Do you need me to do it for you?"
"No need, General!"
Without hesitation, the men picked up the sabers. In perfect unison, as if it had been drilled into their very bones, they slashed their own throats and collapsed one after another.
Blood spurted like a fountain, pooling on the ground in a spreading crimson lake.
Such absolute obedience—such awe-inspiring authority.
In that instant, more than 100,000 soldiers looked on in stunned silence.
What kind of commander possessed such control—that his soldiers would obey a death order without hesitation, without even blinking?
That was not discipline. That was devotion beyond life and death.
Even a commoner could see what kind of terrifying power such an army would hold.
Only a young Sun Xiangzong had once commanded men like this.
Yes—a young Sun Xiangzong.
Now, he was old.
Before the eyes of 100,000, one truth became clear as day.
Sun Xiangzong's commands no longer held weight. Ning Changqun's did.
The river's new waves had already overtaken the old. A new hero had risen.
Ning Changqun—had become the new Sun Xiangzong.
"Ah…"
The sigh rippled across the crowd.
Not only the tens of thousands of soldiers but also the high-ranking nobles and officials from the three northwestern provinces—and even envoys from the capital—all watched in silence, shaking their heads.
No one cared whether these men's reasons against Chen Sanshi were true or not. What mattered was clear to all: Sun Xiangzong was finished. His retirement was inevitable.
The tides of power had already shifted.
"Grand Commander!"
Ning Changqun turned and cupped his fists. "The matter has been fully dealt with."
When he spoke, his tone had changed. He no longer called himself "your subordinate"—only "I."
And he hadn't asked for Sun Xiangzong's opinion even once. He'd handled everything single-handedly, as if the Grand Commander didn't even exist.
"Outrageous! I'll kill him myself!"
Meng Guangxin's teeth ground so hard they nearly broke, but once again Fang Qingyun blocked his way.
"Master, say something!" Meng shouted, pacing anxiously like a trapped beast.
But Sun Xiangzong sat back in his grand chair, tapping the armrest with a slow rhythm. His face was calm, almost serene, like an old man sitting at the theater, watching a play in silence.
"Heh…"
Governor Liu clapped his hands lightly. "What a magnificent display! This General Ning truly carries the same spirit you had in your younger days, Grand Commander."
"Yes, indeed."
Inspector Hou smiled, his words dripping with false courtesy. "With General Ning guarding the north, the Grand Commander can retire in peace. Even if war breaks out after the army expands, this humble servant believes General Ning would make an excellent deputy—someone worthy to assist the Grand Commander."
…
"Your Highness, brilliant move!"
Yin Hanwen and the others finally saw the full picture.
Just by sacrificing a few thousand-commanders and hundred-commanders, they had achieved a devastating result!
Cao Fan's lips curved into a confident smile.
After today, half of the morale within the Eight Great Camps would crumble on its own. Who knew how much trouble that would cause their rivals?
Once Sun Xiangzong's prestige collapsed, and after Cao Fan seized the top rank in the Elite Selection, the old commander would have no choice but to obediently hand over the method to break through beyond the Martial Saint realm.
In the end, everything under heaven would belong to the Cao family.
"This is excellent. I also agree that General Ning could serve as deputy," Governor Liu said, feigning thoughtfulness. "It will temper him while easing the Grand Commander's burdens. What does the Grand Commander think?"
However—
Just when everyone thought the matter had finally come to an end, the long-silent Sun Xiangzong spoke again.
"Good," he said slowly, tapping his finger rhythmically on the armrest. "A fine, thunderous display indeed. But tell me, Ning Changqun—did this old man ever once say they were to be executed?"
"They were guilty beyond doubt!" Ning Changqun replied confidently. "I only acted to spare the Grand Commander further worry."
"General Ning."
Fang Qingyun wheeled himself forward and spoke evenly. "Your actions don't look like you were easing burdens. They look more like someone in a hurry to silence witnesses before trouble could arise."
"General Fang?"
Ning Changqun froze for an instant before sneering. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing much."
Fang Qingyun's voice was cold. "Even if it wasn't to cover your tracks, executing so many soldiers without your commander's approval—what crime is that? And tell me, since these men all served directly under your banner, if they're guilty of a capital offense, shouldn't you, their commanding officer, bear some responsibility?"
Ning Changqun snorted. "I already said—I knew nothing of this!"
"Whether you knew or not," Fang Qingyun said sharply, "isn't for you to decide. Second Brother, Seventh Brother—bring them out."
As soon as he spoke, two more generals appeared, dragging a bloodied vice general into the open.
It was Ning Changqun's deputy—Shen Chang.
Kneeling on the ground, covered in wounds, he gasped out, "It was General Ning's order. I only followed instructions."
"What?!"
The crowd erupted.
So Ning Changqun had slaughtered those men to cover his own tracks after all?
The lofty impression he'd just created moments ago instantly shattered, his image plummeting like a stone.
"Shen Chang, you—!"
Ning Changqun hadn't expected this at all, but he recovered quickly. "General Fang, I have no grudge against you. Why would you join hands with this shameless liar to frame me?
"You think I'd waste my time plotting against some minor Tempering Organ officer in the Selection? If I were really behind this, do you think my men would have died so willingly?"
"That's because—"
Shen Chang's voice shook, blood dripping from his lips. "Because he imprisoned their families! He said if the plan succeeded, he'd grant them wealth and titles. If it failed, their families would be executed. That's why they all went to their deaths without hesitation!"
"Lies!"
Ning Changqun roared, his voice booming like thunder. "And you expect anyone to believe that?"
"Well said—empty words mean nothing," said the Seventh Brother coolly. "Bring them in!"
"Clatter—clatter—"
A group of armored soldiers escorted a crowd of terrified family members into the arena.
When they saw the bodies sprawled across the ground, the wives and children broke into uncontrollable sobs, their cries echoing through the field.
Fang Qingyun narrowed his eyes. "Now, what else do you have to deny?"
"Nicely done, Ning Changqun. This monkey show you've put on—it's been a long time since I've seen such a fine performance."
Sun Xiangzong's voice was calm, almost casual. "But disrupting the Selection and killing soldiers without orders—both are capital crimes."
His tone hadn't changed from before, but Ning Changqun suddenly felt a crushing weight pressing down on him.
"Slander! Grand Commander, this is slander!"
Ning turned toward the wailing families and shouted, "You! Tell them! Did I ever threaten or imprison you? Speak!"
"Wuu… wuu…"
"No, General Ning never threatened us!" the family members cried as they wept. Their trembling bodies and fearful glances made it obvious—they didn't dare to speak the truth.
"Grand Commander, you see?" Ning Changqun said quickly. "Their wives wouldn't say a single bad word about me! I never tampered with the Selection!
"As for my men, yes, I failed in supervision. I'm willing to accept punishment—solitary confinement, flogging, anything you deem fit!"
He looked around, face stiff, calculating rapidly.
They had prepared this scheme for so long—yet somehow, the old fox had seen through it. Otherwise, how could he have brought the families here so quickly?
"Gentlemen," Sun Xiangzong said, turning his eyes toward Governor Liu and Inspector Hou, "how should this matter be handled?"
"Grand Commander!"
Governor Liu immediately stood up. "This matter is grave. The families did not accuse him. We can investigate carefully later—there's no need to rush into a verdict."
"Yes, Grand Commander," Inspector Hou added quickly, rising to his feet. "No need to act hastily. We can resolve this privately, slowly."
Neither of them had expected Sun Xiangzong to be this well-prepared.
But that was fine. They could still win.
Even if everything was exposed—even if everyone knew Ning Changqun was the true culprit—so what?
"Suppress the matter. At most, just transfer Ning Changqun elsewhere later."
Even if things were smoothed over like that, it would still destroy Sun Xiangzong's authority. It would prove he could no longer enforce justice—how could such a man claim to rule an army?
Sun Xiangzong's calm voice cut through the murmurs. "It was you two," he said, looking at Governor Liu and Inspector Hou. "You insisted this must be handled publicly. Now, in front of all these people, you want to go back on your word?"
Then, without raising his tone, he uttered just two words: "Execute him."
The words hit harder than thunder.
Not only Ning Changqun—everyone around him froze in shock.
The investigation wasn't even finished!
And yet he wanted to kill?
This wasn't some random officer. This was a Martial Champion, a Martial Saint personally appointed by the Emperor!
As the order fell, Meng Guangxin, Second Brother, and Seventh Brother immediately moved forward. Their blades gleamed coldly—they'd been waiting for this moment far too long.
"You can't kill him!"
Governor Liu's voice rose, his tone suddenly sharp. "Grand Commander Sun, at worst this is negligence—dereliction of duty! How could it possibly be punishable by death?"
"That's right," Inspector Hou added quickly, his voice edged with warning. "Grand Commander Sun, General Ning isn't someone you can just execute on a whim!"
But no matter what they said, the three generals didn't stop. They had already drawn their weapons.
And far away, a new figure appeared, holding a long Fangtian halberd—Lü Ji, the other Martial Saint of Liangzhou.
Only then did Governor Liu and Inspector Hou realize—
This wasn't a bluff.
He really intended to kill.
Madness!
The court had spent decades cultivating a single Martial Saint. How many years? How many resources?
And this one—loyal, obedient—now about to be cut down!
"Sun Xiangzong, you've gone insane!" Governor Liu shouted, his voice trembling with disbelief. "You're going to execute someone without proof? Aren't you afraid His Majesty will hear of this? That's a general sent from the capital!"
"Sun Xiangzong!"
Ning Changqun finally tore off his facade, rage boiling over. "You dare kill me without evidence? Do you even know who I am?
"I was the Martial Champion of the forty-second year of Longqing, chosen by the Emperor himself!
"I am one of the few Martial Saints in all the realm!
"What gives you the right to kill me?"
"Martial Saint?"
Sun Xiangzong's finger stopped tapping the armrest.
Then—he laughed.
The old man, under the gaze of more than 100,000 people, laughed softly, calmly, as if the world's ridicule meant nothing.
But when the laughter stopped—
"Champion?" he said. "What does that amount to?"
The voice that followed no longer belonged to an old man. Each syllable carried the killing aura of a hundred years of war. Every word was heavy with the weight of commanding armies and slaughtering nations.
Tens of thousands in the arena suddenly found it hard to breathe.
"Martial Saint?" Sun Xiangzong continued. "And what of it?"
"..."
Ning Changqun swallowed hard, his throat dry.
Everyone knew the Grand Commander's years were numbered. Yet that dying old man, with just his presence, crushed the heart of a living Martial Saint until his mind went blank.
"Empty bluff!"
"Sun Xiangzong!"
Fear and instinct exploded inside Ning Changqun, twisting into desperate fury. He gripped his giant axe tightly. "If I remember right, you haven't fought with your own hands in more than ten years, have you? You used to look down on Martial Saints—but now?
"Can you still beat one? Or maybe… you aren't even one anymore!"
Yes.
Everyone remembered.
Sun Xiangzong hadn't fought in front of anyone for fifteen years.
In that time, he had grown weaker, older, like a dying flame flickering in the wind.
"Boom!"
Ning Changqun's aura erupted. Power surged like a tidal wave, tangible and crushing. The corpses at his feet burst apart into blood and pulp under the force.
A true Martial Saint's power.
"Let's see how much strength you've got left!"
The shockwave alone sent Meng Guangxin, Second Brother, and Seventh Brother—none of them Martial Saints—flying back more than ten zhang.
The first disciple, Lü Ji, was still some distance away, charging toward the platform.
In an instant, Ning Changqun appeared before Sun Xiangzong, his massive mountain axe descending like the hand of a god. The stone platform exploded into rubble, sending armored soldiers flying.
Governor Liu and Inspector Hou barely managed to leap back, faces pale, as if the sky itself was being torn apart.
The power split the air like creation itself—enough to cleave the entire camp, perhaps even the whole city of Liangzhou, in two.
The blast swept out for hundreds of meters, a roaring hurricane shredding banners, shaking bones, making ears bleed. Many tried to flee, but it was far too late.
Then—
The old man in the coarse robe raised one hand.
No one saw when it appeared, but a silver dragon coiled around his arm, gleaming with light.
The winds died.
The world fell silent.
No one saw what happened next.
They only saw the aftermath.
The entire body of the Martial Saint Ning Changqun was gone—completely devoured by that silver dragon. Only scraps of flesh and bone fell like rain, scattering across the shattered ground.
Yet none of it touched the old man. An invisible force shielded him, leaving his coarse robe spotless, untainted by even a drop of blood.
Standing amid the carnage, he looked like a divine figure descended from the heavens—unmatched, unshakable.
In that instant, the hundreds of thousands present remembered what the name Sun Xiangzong truly meant.
They remembered how the Grand Commander once shattered 2,200 suits of armor alone in battle.
They remembered the fifty-seventh year of Longqing, when a Martial Saint—the Minister of War himself—died within the palace, beneath the Emperor's very gaze.
That Martial Saint had fallen to this same man.
Yes, Sun Xiangzong was old.
But he was still alive.
And as long as he still drew breath—
He remained the same man who had shaken the world, the man whose spear made the barbarians tremble for forty years, the first and greatest human spear saint beneath the heavens—
Sun Xiangzong.