Chapter 122: Creating Friends Out of Thin Air

In the council chamber of Li Wenxin’s residence, an oppressive silence fell over the room.

What should they do now?

Originally, among the five ranks of Martial Marquis, they held an absolute advantage in three, confidently assured of victory.

But now, Li Suifeng, a Martial Marquis of the third rank, was unable to fight, and at that level, defeat was inevitable.

Martial Marquises were already scarce in number.

By tradition, neither Li Wenxin nor Li Cangqing could participate in battle.

The remaining dozen or so Martial Marquises were mostly first and second rank; those of the third rank were rare, only three in total.

With Li Suifeng injured, only two remained to fight, but their combat abilities were mediocre, far from matching the third-rank Martial Marquis on Li Wenxuan’s side.

Now, only those of the first and fifth ranks could be relied upon to secure victory; the battle was lost.

“We should send people to injure them as well!” Yang Zhihuan roared in anger, but the moment he spoke, he realized his folly.

Since Li Wenxuan had anticipated this move, he must have feared retaliation. Those set to fight were likely concealed within Li Wenxuan’s residence—how could they be harmed there?

“Gentlemen, do any of you know a Martial Marquis-level expert, someone strong enough to guarantee victory? Anyone from the second to fourth rank,” Li Wenxin asked.

They exchanged glances, racking their brains, but none could be found.

Though they knew some Martial Marquis from noble families, none were up to the task.

“Forget it. If we must lose, so be it. At worst, we’ll choose two lesser bloodline veins and reclaim victory in five years,” Li Wenxin sighed.

“I do know someone,” a voice rang out from the council chamber.

All eyes turned to Lu Yan.

“Shanchuan, you know a Martial Marquis expert?” Li Cangqing asked, a trace of hope in his expression.

Lu Yan nodded. “I have an old acquaintance, a Martial Marquis of the second rank, with formidable strength—invincible among equals for a decade.”

“Invincible among equals for ten years?” The gathered looked skeptical, though no one voiced it aloud.

Who could claim to be invincible among peers?

Setting aside other regions of the Great Chu, even within the six counties of Lingdong, masters abounded, and a powerful innate martial body might emerge at any time.

If you fancied yourself invincible with triple vitality, someone else might possess quadruple.

If you thought quadruple vitality was overwhelming, there might be one with quintuple.

Claiming a decade of invincibility might mean hiding away, never encountering a true equal.

“Shanchuan, the one Li Wenxuan will send to battle is likely Gu Yun, a sword master with a top-tier sword technique, reaching the pinnacle of mastery. Even though Uncle Suifeng is stronger, his advantage is limited. Are you confident?” Li Cangqing whispered, clarifying Gu Yun’s strength so Lu Yan could judge clearly.

“My friend is a blade master, with a top-tier blade technique, refined to the realm of transcendence,” Lu Yan replied.

The friend he spoke of was, of course, himself.

But he could not fight openly.

If he were to participate, he must do so under another identity.

Hence, he fabricated the story of an old acquaintance.

“A transcendent-level top-tier blade technique?” The crowd was shaken, expressions of surprise evident.

To cultivate a top-tier martial art to the transcendent level within the Martial Marquis realm was exceedingly difficult; very few achieved it.

Even Li Wenxuan and Li Wenxin, prodigies of the Li clan, only attained transcendent mastery of a top-tier martial art after reaching the fifth rank, their horizons broadened.

Even then, they were among the strongest few within all Martial Marquises in the six counties of Lingdong.

Grandmasters of inner qi lived long lives, so cultivating a top-tier martial art to transcendent mastery wasn’t rare, but within the second rank Martial Marquis, it was scarce.

Especially for Yang Zhihuan and Wang Dao, their eyes gleamed with excitement.

“There really is such a figure! Brother Lu, you must introduce us,” Yang Zhihuan said eagerly.

“That friend prefers solitude and avoids socializing. Were it not for a favor I owe his family, I doubt I could persuade him, and even then, only once,” Lu Yan smiled wryly.

“With a transcendent top-tier blade technique, victory is assured. Shanchuan, please invite your friend to come. Here, let me toast you with tea,” Li Wenxin stood, raising his cup and approaching.

“Lord Wenxin, you are too courteous. It is my duty,” Lu Yan replied, raising his cup in return before taking his leave.

He exited the city gates, heading north, stopping upon entering a forested area.

“I’ll wait here a few days,” he murmured.

Meanwhile, at Li Wenxuan’s residence, Li Wenxuan inquired about Li Yue’s condition.

“Did you encounter that old Yang Zhihuan?” Li Wenxuan’s eyes briefly darkened, then returned to normal. “Go downstairs and rest.”

Li Yue took her leave.

“Father, fortunately you had a backup plan. Though Wang Dao was unharmed, Li Suifeng was injured. This battle is ours,” Li Canglin smiled.

“Order everyone not to leave the residence for the next few days, to avoid retaliation from Li Wenxin’s side,” Li Wenxuan said.

Days passed, the day of the great clan duel drawing nearer.

Yet Lu Yan’s so-called friend had not appeared.

Li Cangqing and others grew increasingly anxious.

Only Li Wenxin remained calm and composed, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

Until the evening before the duel, Lu Yan arrived at Li Wenxin’s residence.

He had changed his identity and could not appear as himself simultaneously.

The later he appeared, the less chance of exposure.

“I am Xie Yan. Please inform them,” Lu Yan said at the gate, introducing himself to the guards.

They promptly reported inside, and soon Li Cangqing personally came to escort him in.

“Where is Brother Lu Shanchuan? Why didn’t he come with you?” Wang Dao asked, eyeing Lu Yan curiously.

“Brother Lu found me and we sparred briefly. Inspired, he decided to enter seclusion to refine his skills. I came ahead alone,” Lu Yan replied.

“Brother Xie, I hear your blade technique has reached the transcendent realm. Could you teach us a few moves?” Yang Zhihuan asked eagerly, itching to test his skills.

“Of course,” Lu Yan nodded.

The others quickly stepped back, giving them space.

“Please,” Yang Zhihuan drew his blade.

Lu Yan drew the black iron blade from his back.

Whoosh!

Two blades clashed.

Lu Yan wielded the Nine Heavens Blade—a fusion of nine second-tier blade techniques into a new top-tier art, never before displayed publicly, so no fear of recognition.

Yang Zhihuan suppressed his cultivation to the second rank Martial Marquis and engaged Lu Yan.

After only a few dozen moves, Yang Zhihuan was entirely on the defensive, unable to find an opening.

His defensive blade flashes were steadily compressed until, after fifty moves, his defense shattered with a loud crack, staggering back, one sleeve fluttering.

“Well fought,” Lu Yan bowed.

“Brother Xie’s blade technique is truly dazzling. I admire you,” Yang Zhihuan said, full of respect.

“Just lucky,” Lu Yan replied humbly.

“Excellent! Ha ha ha! Brother Xie, please come inside for tea,” Li Cangqing laughed heartily, feeling confident.

With Xie Yan’s help, victory was assured.

The night passed quietly.

The next day.

At the Li clan’s main estate, on the martial arena.

At the center stood a colossal fighting platform, not a temporary structure but long established, forged entirely of steel, unyieldingly tough.

Its surface was uneven, etched with countless scars of blades, swords, fists, and palms—proof of innumerable battles.

Around the arena were many seats.

Li Wenxin’s faction sat on the east side.

Li Wenxuan’s faction on the west.

“The family head has arrived!” a loud announcement echoed through the arena.

A group crossed the colonnade and took seats to the north.

At the head sat an elderly man, white-haired but spirited.

He was Li Xingyuan, the current head of the Li family.

Reportedly over two centuries old.

“Greetings, family head,” everyone rose and bowed.

“Let the duel begin,” Li Xingyuan said, palms pressed together, signaling all to sit.

“This time, we start with the fifth rank Martial Marquises. Cousin, your thoughts?” Li Wenxuan stood.

Slightly younger than Li Wenxin, he respectfully addressed him as cousin.

“Of course, as you arrange, younger cousin,” Li Wenxin smiled.

Outwardly, they appeared amicable, belying the fierce rivalry beneath.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two figures leapt from east and west sides, soaring dozens of meters onto the platform.

Without ceremony, the two fifth-rank Martial Marquises clashed fiercely.

Lu Yan watched without blinking.

The fifth rank represented the pinnacle of Martial Marquis. Their bone-space had fully opened, their bone strength robust, relentless.

Each move could leave an imprint on the steel platform.

Comparing their strength to his own, Lu Yan concluded that he was no match.

To contend with fifth-rank Martial Marquises, he would need to advance his cultivation to the third rank.

After over one hundred moves, the Martial Marquis from Li Wenxin’s side proved superior.

One palm struck his opponent, wounding him, then pressed the advantage with a relentless assault, knocking him off the platform and securing victory.

Neither side showed much expression; the outcome was expected.

Next came the fourth rank bout.

Li Wenxin sent forth Yang Zhihuan.

Li Wenxuan’s side fielded Li Changshan, the one who had tested Lu Yan before.

They were old rivals, well acquainted, striking with lethal intent.

Nine Slashes Divine Thunder Blade against Ink Jade Zombie Palm.

The Nine Slashes Divine Thunder Blade was imposing and expansive, but consumed great bone strength.

Li Changshan exploited this by engaging in a grappling contest, tying Yang Zhihuan up.

Once the Ink Jade Zombie Palm was mastered, its power extended beyond the palm; the wielder’s body became like a zombie’s—copper-skinned, iron-boned, offense and defense combined.

Moreover, the palm contained corpse poison, which seeped into Yang Zhihuan during the prolonged battle.

He struggled to attack while resisting the poison, gradually weakening.

Unwilling to concede, he fought for over two hundred moves before Li Changshan struck his chest with a palm, forcing him to cough blood and fall back.

The fourth-rank victory went to Li Wenxuan’s side.

With one win apiece, they moved to the third bout.

(End of chapter)