"Is that so? But the Third Prince does have one more leaf than you. If I'm not mistaken, the more leaves one has, the higher one's status. So it would seem you truly are inferior to the Third Prince."
"That's… that's because this prince's cultivation is lacking. Yes, that's exactly it. This prince simply isn't willing to cultivate, which is why I only have eight leaves. If one day this prince possessed cultivation on par with the Third's, a mere nine leaves would be child's play."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Yang Kai wore an expression of pure disdain. "I doubt it. One can judge a man by the smallest details. The way you carry yourself, Your Highness — if I were the Human Emperor, I wouldn't favor you either. When the time comes to pass on the throne, I'd certainly consider the Third Prince. He's a dragon among men, with impressive cultivation and a generous demeanor. How could you possibly compare?"
"You… shut your mouth!" Fu Shu was so enraged by Yang Kai that his face flushed crimson. Baring his claws and teeth, he lunged forward, relying on the Sacred Tree's protection to fight with reckless abandon.
Though Yang Kai kept talking, his hands never stopped moving — he launched furious attacks at various points across Fu Shu's body, but couldn't breach that green light's defense at all. Meanwhile, the Crown Prince's attacks against him were little more than tickling; Yang Kai could ignore them completely.
For a moment the two of them were brawling like street thugs, except neither could put the other down. Every attack vanished without a trace.
The goateed elder sighed, unable to watch any longer. He spoke up: "Your Highness, why bother with his words? Just use the Sacred Art. Your cultivation and strength are both inferior to his — only the Sacred Art can wash away this shame."
Yang Kai turned his head and snorted coldly: "Old man, keep yapping and see if I don't knock your teeth out."
The goateed elder said earnestly: "Young people should know how to respect their elders."
"That depends on who we're talking about. Someone like you who goes around posturing — I'd have to beat down dozens like you every day."
As they spoke, Fu Shu's incantation had already begun again. Heeded the goateed elder's advice, he'd stopped wasting energy grappling with Yang Kai and instead cast a Bloodlust Art upon himself. The fear and apprehension in his eyes quickly vanished, replaced instantly by rage and frenzied excitement. He laughed wildly, as though no one else existed, and snarled: "You dare offend this prince, brat? I'll make you die! After I kill you, I'll take good care of that beautiful woman of yours."
The Bloodlust Art could affect one's rationality and impair judgment, but there was no denying that in certain situations it served a powerful purpose.
Fu Shu's fear and timidity were crushed under the Bloodlust Art's influence. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Yang Kai as though he'd become an entirely different person. He bellowed: "Bind!"
An invisible force surged forward from the void like a wave, wrapping around Yang Kai's raised fist.
Yang Kai's fist simply could not come down. No matter how he struggled, it remained frozen in midair.
He could feel an invisible power gripping his fist — and the harder he tried to attack, the stronger that restraining force became. Yang Kai's expression turned grim. The Crown Prince Fu Shu was merely at the third level of the Dao Source Realm, yet he could achieve something like this through the so-called Sacred Art. It exceeded all his expectations and made him far more wary of this altered form of witchcraft.
Ordinary witchcraft could never produce such an effect, nor accomplish something so inconceivable. It had always been Yang Kai who crossed realms to slay his enemies — this was the first time someone weaker than him had landed the opening blow.
He drifted backward, encountering no further obstruction, and easily widened the gap between himself and Fu Shu.
Having succeeded with that strike, Fu Shu's confidence surged. He laughed arrogantly: "Run! Let's see where you can run! Come, sword!"
He extended his hand in a beckoning gesture, and a burst of emerald-green luminescence suddenly erupted from the void. The glow was identical in color to the energy shielding Fu Shu. It coalesced rapidly in midair, taking the form of a colossal sword that seemed capable of splitting the heavens.
Fu Shu pointed a finger, and the great sword slashed down toward Yang Kai.
Yang Kai's pupils contracted. He instinctively sensed the power behind this strike. The Laws of Space surged within him, and in the blink of an eye several Moon Blades shot forward to intercept.
With a deafening rumble, the emerald sword swept onward with unstoppable force, obliterating every Moon Blade in its path. However, after cutting through the final blade, it too suddenly disintegrated.
Fu Shu's body shuddered, and two streams of blood trickled from beneath his nostrils. He paid them no mind, raising both hands overhead and roaring: "Again!"
Another burst of emerald light bloomed. Another titanic green sword materialized.
Yang Kai gazed thoughtfully in a certain direction.
After several attempts, he'd finally caught a subtle trace: every time Fu Shu performed the Sacred Art, it seemed to resonate with something in that direction. The resonance was faint — were it not for the extraordinary power of Yang Kai's divine sense, he never would have detected it.
There was no way Fu Shu, a mere third-level Dao Source Realm cultivator, could match him in combat. The only reason he could achieve this was because he was borrowing power.
The power of the Sacred Tree!
And the direction of that resonance — that was surely where the Sacred Tree lay.
He wanted to see for himself what exactly this so-called Sacred Tree was, that it could possess such a miraculous ability to transform the mundane into the extraordinary.
His divine sense erupted outward in a tidal wave, causing the void to hum and buzz. The goateed elder's face changed yet again.
In an instant, everything within Human Emperor City was imprinted upon Yang Kai's mind, as though the most skilled of painters had rendered a portrait in his head — every detail vivid and precise. His divine sense pushed onward, and his vision reached ever further.
Suddenly a barrier appeared in his path. Caught off guard, Yang Kai's divine sense slammed into it, leaving him momentarily dizzy and disoriented.
At that very moment, the emerald sword descended — slashing squarely onto Yang Kai's shoulder, sending blood spraying in all directions.