Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

On the shores of the East China Sea, the night wind suddenly picked up.

The waves crashed against the rocks with a deep, rumbling sound, as if rehearsing for the approaching storm. Thousands of flags on the shore fluttered in the gale, casting swaying shadows in the light of the torches.

The news that Dongfang Weiwo had obtained the inheritance of the Celestials was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up huge waves.

The various forces that had already begun packing their bags and preparing to leave stopped their actions almost simultaneously.

Countless gazes, burning with greed, shot towards the Weeping Blood Marquis's camp like a thousand sharp arrows. Those gazes contained shock, jealousy, covetousness, and murderous intent, weaving together an invisible net that firmly trapped Dongfang Weiwo.

A suffocating sense of oppression filled the air.

The Wanfo Temple faction was the first to make a move.

Master Liaoyin slowly rose to his feet. He was tall and imposing, his golden robe fluttering in the night wind, like an angry Vajra emerging from a Buddhist shrine. A faint Buddhist light emanated from him, but it was no longer peaceful and warm; instead, it carried an aggressive and oppressive aura, like an invisible mountain pressing down on the Weeping Blood Marquis's residence.

He clasped his hands together, chanting a Buddhist mantra in a low voice that was loud and resonant, echoing throughout every corner of the venue.

"Amitabha."

This Buddhist chant contained the power of a Grandmaster at the peak of the ninth level, causing many of those with weaker cultivation levels to experience ringing in their ears and surging blood.

"The inheritance of the Heavenly Lineage is of paramount importance. Although Benefactor Dongfang has ascended to the top through his own strength, such an opportunity concerns the fate of the world. For the sake of all living beings, Wanfo Temple earnestly requests Benefactor Dongfang to hand over the inheritance so that all major powers may jointly consider it, lest it fall into the hands of those with wicked intentions."

He spoke politely, even with a compassionate smile on his face. But the meaning behind his words was crystal clear—

Hand over the inheritance, or Wanfo Temple will not let this go.

Behind him, several martial monks from Wanfo Temple had already gripped their vajras tightly, their sharp gazes fixed on the direction of the Weeping Blood Marquis's residence.

The selfless young monk stood behind Yin, his eyes lowered, his prayer beads spinning much faster than usual. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only sighed silently and continued spinning the prayer beads.

Dongfang Mingyue was furious on the spot.

She drew her long sword from her waist with a "whoosh," the tip pointing directly at Master Yin, her eyes practically spitting fire with rage.

"What do you mean, you old bald monk! My brother earned this inheritance through his own abilities, why should I hand it over to you! Your Wanfo Temple always talks about compassion, but now that you've seen the treasure, you're showing your true colors?"

She cursed without any restraint, the cold glint of the knife reflecting on her flushed face.

Master Liaoyin remained unfazed, even shaking his head slightly with an expression of "disappointment": "Please calm down, female benefactor. This old monk does not covet the inheritance, but only thinks of the common people. If the celestial inheritance falls into the hands of those with wicked intentions, the consequences will be unimaginable. This old monk is willing to guarantee with the eternal reputation of Wanfo Temple that the inheritance will be jointly examined by all parties, and will absolutely not be embezzled."

"Reputation?" Dongfang Mingyue sneered. "You've abandoned all shame, and you still want to talk to me about reputation?"

Master Liaoyin frowned slightly, ignoring Dongfang Mingyue and turning his gaze back to Dongfang Weiwo.

The Heavenly Demon Sect followed closely behind.

A sinister voice rang out from the shadows, like the hooting of an owl, sharp and piercing, sending chills down one's spine.

"Wanfo Temple is indeed a bunch of hypocrites. They just robbed, so why talk about the common people? Their hypocrisy makes me want to vomit."

The Blood Shadow Elder slowly emerged from the Heavenly Demon Sect's ranks. He was gaunt and emaciated, his blood-red robe billowing in the night wind like a flowing river of blood. His eyes were cloudy yet sharp, like two daggers hidden in ashes.

He walked to the front row, staring intently at Dongfang Weiwo, a cruel smile playing on his lips:

"Boy, the Heavenly Demon Sect doesn't play by those rules. I only have one sentence—hand over the Celestial Human Inheritance, and I'll spare your life. Otherwise…" He licked his dry, cracked lips, "I'll show you what it means to wish you were dead."

Before he finished speaking, his aura as a Grandmaster at the eighth level was released without any concealment. That aura carried a strong bloody smell and an evil power that devoured everything, and it crushed towards Dongfang Weiwo as if it were a tangible thing.

Dongfang Weiwo stood still, his expression unchanged. He felt the pressure as if it were just a gentle breeze blowing in his face, without even the hem of his clothes being stirred.

But the guards of the Marquis of Weeping Blood behind him had turned pale and were retreating.

"snort."

A cold snort.

An aged figure slowly emerged from the ranks of the Marquis of Weeping Blood's camp.

Dongfang Shuo, an old man from the Marquis of Weeping Blood's mansion, was usually unassuming and inconspicuous among the guards. But as he took this step, his hunched body suddenly straightened, and his cloudy old eyes on his withered face suddenly shone with a sharp light.

He took a step forward and landed in front of Dongfang Weiwo. His aged body, though seemingly frail, was like a majestic mountain, steadily blocking the Blood Shadow Elder's aura.

"This old servant is here. Who dares to touch my young master?" Dongfang Shuo's voice was hoarse, carrying the vicissitudes of time, but every word was like an iron hammer, striking the hearts of everyone present.

The Blood Shadow Elder narrowed his eyes, sized Dongfang Shuo up and down, and sneered, "A frail old dog like you dares to block my way?"

Before he finished speaking, he leaped into the air. His blood-red robe left a trail of afterimages as he pounced on his prey like a venomous snake. His withered hand struck out, demonic energy surging within the palm wind, accompanied by the shrieks of countless wronged souls, carrying an evil power that devoured everything.

This palm strike used eighty percent of its power.

Dongfang Shuo remained expressionless as he met the attack with his withered hand. His movements, though seemingly slow, perfectly blocked all of the Blood Shadow Elder's variations.

"boom!"

Their palms clashed, producing a muffled thud like a thunderclap. The shockwave rippled outwards, sending sand and gravel flying everywhere. Spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the ground beneath their feet, spreading several meters away.

Each side retreated three steps, resulting in a draw.

The Blood Shadow Elder steadied himself, his pupils suddenly contracting. He stared at Dongfang Shuo's withered hand, a look of seriousness appearing in his eyes for the first time:

"Peak of the ninth level of Grandmaster?"

These words caused an uproar in the room.

Master Liaoyin of Wanfo Temple frowned, his gaze turning grave as he looked at Dongfang Shuo. Jian Wuming, the Grand Elder of the Four Extremes Sword Sect, narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingers unconsciously twitching inside his sleeve. Chu Tianxing, the head of the Chu family, snapped his folding fan shut, his eyes flashing with a sharp light. Cao Zhengchun's previously angry expression faltered slightly, his gaze towards Dongfang Shuo now showing a hint of surprise.

Among the guards accompanying the Marquis of Weeping Blood, there was actually a Grandmaster at the peak of the ninth level.

This foundation is enough to make anyone reassess the strength of the Blood-Weeping Marquis's Mansion.