Chapter 101: At the Slightest Disagreement

"The Overlord?"

As soon as the old man known as Heart-Sword spoke these words, a commotion rippled through the crowd, sparking varied reactions.

"Is this the Overlord who went into seclusion?"
"Who is the Overlord?"
"He is so handsome... even I feel my heart flutter..."
"I never expected the Overlord to appear here..."

It seemed some strange comments had snuck into the mix, but that was of little consequence.

Yan Chuanming smiled. "Heart-Sword, it is rare that you still recognize me."

The old man, Heart-Sword, sighed helplessly. "The Overlord’s prestige is renowned far and wide; how could I dare forget?"

Meanwhile, among the crowd of martial artists, those with less experience finally learned who he was from the seasoned veterans nearby.

As for the assassin clan, both factions knew exactly who the Overlord was. Though they lived in seclusion, they were well-informed about the world outside. Because of this, their reactions were starkly different.

Leng Mujun’s side was overjoyed. The middle-aged man who had spoken to her earlier exclaimed, "Miss, I never imagined that your travels would lead you to befriend the Overlord!" Leng Mujun breathed a sigh of relief. "I honestly didn't think his reputation alone could cow so many people."

The situation on Leng Muge’s side, however, was far more uncomfortable.

The young man in black gritted his teeth. "The Overlord, Yan Chuanming... how could someone like him suddenly show up?"

At this moment, another elder stepped out beside Heart-Sword; it was the Night King, whom Yan Chuanming had just addressed by name.

"Overlord, I dare to ask—"

"Hmm?" Yan Chuanming raised an eyebrow and brushed the dust from his black garments, cutting him off. "I am standing here; who gave you permission to call yourself a King?"

While titles containing the word "King" were not exactly rare in the martial arts world, Yan Chuanming was an exception—he had referred to himself as "this young master" since he first debuted. His words were a product of his temper, but they also dealt a severe blow to the Night King’s pride.

True to form, the Night King lowered his head sharply, his nose wrinkling as he spoke slowly, "Overlord, I venture to ask, this young man beside you..."

Yan Chuanming smiled and glanced at Yue Zhe. Yue Zhe offered a faint smile of his own. Moving the hand he had been using to shield Leng Mujun, he pushed her slightly further behind him, stepped forward, and held his head high. "Yue Zhe."

Technically, Yue Zhe had not truly stepped into the chaos of the martial world, and he should have referred to himself as a "junior." However, none of them came from lowly backgrounds; they had been arrogant since childhood. While they might call an elder "senior" in casual circumstances, they would never do so when facing enemies.

"Is this how you speak to your seniors in the martial world?" a young man behind the Night King interjected, moving to step forward.

"Disciple, show some respect!" To the youth's disbelief, the Night King blocked him and shoved him back.

"Master! You can tolerate such disrespect?"

The Night King did not answer. The young man looked at his master, glared fiercely at Yue Zhe, and retreated.

As the saying goes, the older one gets in the martial arts world, the more cautious they become. This was no empty platitude. It didn't mean veteran experts were cowards; it simply meant they knew what could be done and what could not. Seeing Yue Zhe, the Night King had clearly realized something.

"Surname Yue, dual blades..." the Night King mused to himself before speaking again. "May I ask, young hero, who is your father?"

Yue Zhe’s lips curled upward. "The Dragon-Phoenix Blade, Yue Yuncheng!"

"It really is..." The Night King bit his lip instinctively. "This situation is going to be hard to resolve."

Perhaps Yan Chuanming was a figure relatable to the common martial artist, but in the eyes of those with even a modicum of experience, the name Yue Yuncheng was truly legendary.

"The son of the Great Hero Yue?" The middle-aged man was even more delighted. "Miss, how did you come to know these two, and how did you manage to bring them together?"

Leng Mujun looked at Yue Zhe, her cold face suddenly flushing. She coughed lightly and said, "The two of them have always been close friends; as for the rest, we can discuss it later."

Leng Mujun’s voice was soft, but the hearing of those present was keen, and they caught most of it.

"You two are close friends?" Heart-Sword blurted out.

Just then, another voice drifted from the direction where Yue Zhe and Yan Chuanming had arrived.

"To be precise, they are sworn brothers!"

Everyone looked toward the sound and saw three youths standing on the hillside. One carried a long bow and looked heroic, one wore flowing white robes and appeared gentle, and the third was cold-faced and sturdy. They were watching the scene below.

"Who goes there?" the Night King barked.

The youth with the bow was about to speak, but the youth in white held out a hand to stop him, smiling. "Let me."

The youth in white stepped forward and cupped his hands toward the crowd below. "I am Liu Zhichang's grandson, Liu Zhi; this is my servant, Liu Yuan; and this is Feng Shuichen."

These names were not widely known to the average martial artist. However, the seasoned Heart-Sword and Night King exchanged a look shortly after, both exclaiming in shock, "The Military Ghost, Liu Su?" "The Guardian of Xiyang, Feng Shuichen?"

Feng Shuichen smiled. "Senior Night King, you jest. I, Feng Shuichen, am not wearing my military uniform today; I am merely a traveler in the martial world."

The martial artists on the side were unmoved, but Leng Muge could no longer restrain himself.

"You two, I invited you here, not to reminisce about the past."

This was not a polite remark, and since Leng Muge was hardly a person of great standing, it naturally incited the dissatisfaction of the Night King and Heart-Sword.

"First of all, I have no old history to discuss with the Overlord... and secondly, we only have a transaction. Since when are you in a position to boss me around?" Heart-Sword retorted immediately.

The remark left Leng Muge’s face shifting between red and white. "But you should at least honor our agreement. It is time to strike."

The Night King fixed his gaze on Yan Chuanming and said coldly to Leng Muge, "The price was set for attacking this family. Now that the Overlord and his companions are here, your price... is no longer enough to make us act."

"Indeed," Heart-Sword added.

Yan Chuanming was enraged, though his expression remained calm.

"Tang Jishan, Zhao Shiyu, you dare to attack me just because the price is right? Did I not teach you a sufficient lesson back in the day?"

It was hard to imagine that an expert as formidable as Heart-Sword would have a name as poetic as "Shiyu."

The Night King sneered. "The Overlord’s martial arts are peerless. If I encountered you alone, I would certainly not dare to provoke you. But today, with dozens of us here, no matter how strong you are, you cannot fight scores of men at once, can you?" The Night King had reverted to calling himself "this King."

"Heh..." Yan Chuanming laughed softly. He unslung the long halberd from his back, his internal energy slowly circulating, a trace of bloodlust coiling around the weapon. "Do you still think I am the same Yan Chuanming who was injured while fighting you two alone back then?"

Yue Zhe’s dual blades slid quietly from their scabbards, a faint azure current swirling around him.

Liu Zhi’s servant, Liu Yuan, drew his long sword beside Yan Chuanming, while Feng Shuichen led Liu Zhi further back.

Without another word, the tension broke into violence.

Leng Muge was quick to adapt. "The two of you, the price is doubled!"

The Night King’s sneer deepened. "Good!"

He and Heart-Sword took a deep breath, exchanged a glance, and drew their respective weapons.

Heart-Sword pointed his blade directly at Yan Chuanming. "Overlord! Let me see how much your skills have truly progressed!"

"Hahahaha..." The bloodlust in Yan Chuanming’s eyes was now undisguised. "Killing you two will take ten breaths at most!"

"What?" This arrogant declaration stunned many in the crowd. Yet, neither the Night King nor Heart-Sword dared to move first; they were waiting for an opening. Yan Chuanming, for some reason, also acted uncharacteristically, standing still after his threat.

Usually, Yan Chuanming would never wait to find flaws in an opponent’s defense like others; he would have charged in immediately. This strange scene made the two veteran experts feel that something was wrong. They didn't think for a second that Yan Chuanming was afraid of a two-on-one fight—the Yan Chuanming of the past had never cared about numbers; if he wanted to fight, he fought.

However, even if they sensed it, some of the younger generation did not.

"And he calls himself the Overlord?"
"What a coward!"

Yan Chuanming naturally wouldn't waste words on such clowns, and he knew that these two were already dead men.

Suddenly, from behind Yan Chuanming, three black streaks of light shot out. The two who had mocked him, along with another martial artist, collapsed to the ground. A dark, feathered arrow was embedded in each of their foreheads. They didn't even have time to scream before they were dead.

Needless to say, it was Feng Shuichen who had struck.

These three arrows shattered the standoff completely.

Yan Chuanming’s aura of blood-red energy erupted. With a roar, he swung his halberd like a god of war, charging toward the Night King and Heart-Sword.

"Hmph..." Feeling his own blood beginning to boil, Yue Zhe glanced at Leng Mujun and flashed forward like a breeze toward the opposition.

As the two of them charged, both sides unleashed their skills in a chaotic melee. Martial artists drew their blades, assassins slipped into the shadows, and in an instant, the area was filled with dark mist and flashing steel—a truly lively affair.

"Tang Jishan," Yan Chuanming forced Heart-Sword back with a strike of his halberd, then turned and smashed it toward the Night King. As their weapons collided, he spoke. "You are a bit weak!"

With a deafening "clang," the Night King’s unusually large sword clashed with Yan Chuanming’s halberd. Ripples of force radiated from the point of impact, and the Night King was sent flying backward.

"Pfft..."

As the Night King spat out a mouthful of blood, Heart-Sword panicked. "You idiot! You know he has innate god-like strength; why are you forcing a direct clash with him!"

But Yan Chuanming possessed more than just raw power. As the Night King flew back, Yan Chuanming followed without losing a step. Before the Night King could regain his footing, he thrust his halberd deep into his chest.

"Old thing," Yan Chuanming looked at the incredulous, blood-spewing Night King. "In all these years, you haven't made any progress at all..."