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

Wu Zetian loosened her grip on the hilt of the sword.

Qin Lin'an peeked out from behind the book, nodded, and his nod conveyed approval.

The sword formation of the four great sword masters unfolded again, and the fallen leaves within the formation began to resume their original trajectories.

Dongfang Weiwo sheathed his sword, the dark golden light receding and fading into silence between the hilt and the scabbard.

His gaze swept over the empty dragon-carved chair below the stage, lingering for only a moment before moving away. The Great Dragon Head wouldn't be coming.

Everyone knows that the Grand Leader of the Azure Dragon Society has always been a legendary figure. Today, the Young Leader is acting on his behalf, leaving the chair empty. And it is precisely this vacancy that lets everyone know that the Azure Dragon Society has not yet revealed all its cards.

He spoke. His voice was slightly heavier than before, like a piece of iron that had just been quenched and pulled from the water, still steaming.

"First, I have slain the Underworld Emperor. The source of the Demon-Devouring Bloodline is severed, and the backlash from the sealing power of the Northern Stone Gate has been resolved. From this day forward, the Dongfang family bloodline will no longer be coveted or exploited by anyone."

As soon as he finished speaking, a low gasp of surprise erupted from the audience.

When the Underworld Emperor was alive, he stirred up trouble among all the forces. He held the remnants of the Heavenly Demon Sect, which had existed for three hundred years, in his hands as pawns. The assassination attempt on Qin Muzhi is still a dark sword hanging over the imperial city.

Some say he's been dead for three hundred years, while others believe he's still hiding in some crack in the ground, waiting to rise again.

The young man before me now says, "I have slain the Underworld Emperor," as casually as "I had a bowl of porridge this morning."

But no one doubted it. Ye Xingchen had just tested his sword.

Li Chenzhou, sitting on the side of the platform, maintained his aura as a half-step Celestial Being from beginning to end without moving.

The lingering dark gold gleam of the Frostbite Sword still left three fine scratches on the table. Everyone was silently processing the news.

"second."

Dongfang Weiwo paused for a moment, his dark golden eyes reflecting the light of the lake and sky.

"I know the whereabouts of Demon God Lü. He has left the Eastern Continent and headed to the Central Continent. The fragments of the Tianxuan Continent will completely merge within six months, at which time the spiritual energy tide will erupt completely. The Eastern Continent will no longer be a borderland, but part of the entire continent. The demons of the Southern Frontier Continent will be able to invade simultaneously through all the broken passages, no longer confined to a corner of the East Sea."

As he stopped, a breeze suddenly rose over the lake.

The wind came out of nowhere—there's no wind direction in Yangzhou at midday, and no season in Yangzhou has ever seen such a wind sweep across the entire lake at this time of year. The wind came from the west, skimming the water's surface and flattening the ripples around the island in the center of the lake by half a foot.

"If you all wish to survive that day—" Dongfang Weiwo continued, then suddenly stopped.

His gaze abruptly shifted westward. At the same instant, Li Chenzhou stood up from his chair.

The aura of a half-step celestial being was suddenly released, and the black wooden chair split in two the moment he stood up, with the backrest and seat falling to the left and right respectively.

The gust of wind that had swept across the lake suddenly stopped in mid-air. A black figure appeared silently from the direction the wind had come from. He stood on the water as if he were standing on flat ground, wrapped in a hooded black cloak, the hood pulled low to cover most of his face.

But on the part of the person's lower jaw that was only exposed, the bluish-gray skin texture was clearly visible—not the texture of human skin, but a texture of some kind of scales mixed with keratin.

"The young dragon of the East."

The man's voice was sharp and harsh, like two dry stone slabs rubbing together. "I'll ask on behalf of my master—why weren't any guests from the Southern Frontier invited to the Yangzhou Sword Tournament?"

His right hand rose from under his black cloak.

He held a ball of dark green light in his palm. Inside the ball, hundreds of fine lines surged, each line being a piece of corrosive demonic energy compressed to its limit.

The moment the ball of light left his hand, it transformed into a dark green serpent of light, hurtling straight towards the center of the dueling platform—its target being Wangwo, who stood three steps behind Dongfang Weiwo.

No one expected it.

Just as everyone was waiting for Dongfang Weiwo to announce the ceasefire agreement, the man in black made his move the instant that everyone's attention was drawn to the news about Lu Moshen.

The light serpent moved at an almost instantaneous speed, its body covered in a layer of thorny demonic energy, resembling a venomous python covered in barbs.

He remained motionless, hands clasped in selfless devotion. He saw it, but he did not flinch. At that moment, the smile on the young monk's lips transformed into genuine compassion—not confrontational compassion, but compassion that used himself as a shield.

But Dongfang Weiwo is faster than him.

The Frostbite Sword was drawn a second time. This time, the sound of the sword being drawn was sharp, carrying the anger that only comes after being offended.

A dark golden sword light burst forth from the scabbard. As the sword blade slashed towards the middle of the dark green light snake, the snake's body suddenly exploded—the light snake split into hundreds of hair-thin green lines the instant it was severed, like an exploding swarm of snakes continuing to rush towards Wangwo from all directions.

The pupils of the man in black shrank to vertical slits.

He saw the sealing patterns operating on the dark gold shield—it was pure demon-sealing bloodline power, incompatible with any acquired cultivation techniques, relying solely on the power of the bloodline's origin to activate it, making it the natural nemesis of all demonic energy.

"The power to seal demons..." The man in black uttered these three words as if he were reading his own obituary.

Dongfang Weiwo had already withdrawn his sword stance with his right hand. While maintaining the shield with his left hand, the tip of his sword pointed towards the lake. A dark golden sword light shot out from the tip of the sword, sliding out horizontally along the lake surface. The force of the sword light pressed a three-foot-deep chasm into the lake water where it passed, and the waves on both sides of the chasm rolled out like walls.

The sword's edge drew a straight golden line on the lake's surface, piercing through the black-clad man's left shoulder with unavoidable speed.

The man in black let out a sharp roar, and a cloud of black blood mist sprayed from his left shoulder.

Wrapped in a black cloak, he slid backwards for several dozen feet across the lake, his boots carving out two white streaks in the water.

He did not continue to attack—his left hand could no longer be raised, and a dark golden light was spreading from the wound on his left shoulder into his chest cavity, like a vine taking root.

He gritted his teeth and glared at Dongfang Weiwo before falling backward and sinking into the water. After a moment of turmoil, the lake returned to calm, leaving only a small pool of diluting black blood slowly spreading.

From the moment he made his move to his disappearance, it took less than twenty breaths.

On the dueling platform, everyone stood. No one spoke.

Ye Xingchen opened his eyes, his grip on the sword tighter than before.

Wu Zetian's sword was fully drawn, its dark blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Qin Lin'an closed the book and tucked it into his sleeve, his leisurely expression completely vanishing. The sword formation of the Four Great Sword Masters had shifted from defense to offense, with their four sword intents radiating outwards to form a perception circle with a radius of thirty feet.

Lost in thought, he looked down at the dark gold shield in front of him that was gradually fading away.

He looked at it for three breaths, then raised his head and bowed respectfully with his palms together towards Dongfang Weiwo's retreating figure. The bow was performed very formally, without a smile.

Gui Yuan spoke. His voice remained flat, but beneath that flatness lay a layer of coldness: "The scouts from the Southern Frontier have already reached Yangzhou. They've been watching."

Dongfang Weiwo sheathed his sword and turned around.

As he surveyed the room, his dark golden gaze was deeper and more steady than before. His eyes swept over the dragon-carved chair that had remained empty—everyone was looking at him, no one was looking at that chair anymore.

Although the eldest dragon leader did not come, the young dragon leader had already made it clear to everyone that he was the one who conveyed the will of the Azure Dragon Society and wielded its blade.

"So—" he said, his voice piercing through the lake, through the suppressed gasps of the crowd, and through the rapidly calculating thoughts in the minds of every prodigy.

"From this day forward, all forces shall cease hostilities. Any grudges shall be settled in six months. Within six months, anyone who dares to launch an attack on another shall be considered an enemy of the Azure Dragon Society."

The aura of a Grandmaster at the peak of the ninth level, combined with the natural suppressive attribute of the Demon-Sealing Bloodline, made the high-level Grandmaster prodigies on the stage feel a weight on their shoulders. The calm waters of the lake rippled again, spreading out in circles to the shore, crashing against the roots of the weeping willows with soft, rustling sounds.

Ye Xingchen was the first to speak. He stood up cleanly and swiftly, hoisting the broken sword onto his right shoulder.

"Six months, right? I won't fight then." He added, "But after six months, I'll test your sword again."

Wu Zetian slung the long sword over her left shoulder, glanced at Dongfang Weiwo, snorted, and said nothing. But the sword was already sheathed; the sound of it being sheathed was her answer.

Qin Lin'an took the book out of his sleeve, turned to the page with the folded corner, glanced at it, and then closed it again.

"Unity benefits both, division harms both," he said. "I agree."

The four swordsmen exchanged a glance, and simultaneously sheathed their swords. The four sounds of sheathing were so synchronized that it seemed as if they had all been done by one person.

He chanted a Buddhist prayer, a short one, but the last syllable lingered for a breath. In that final syllable, he contained all his laughter within a single "Amitabha." Guiyuan looked back at the lake and said, "The Daoist school is inherently non-competitive," then turned his back and resumed his posture of watching the fish.

The remaining factions echoed each other's sentiments after the several prodigies made their statements.

Those family heads who were unwilling to accept their fate looked at the dark figure on the stage, at the dark gold runes in his palm, and at the indifferent gaze of Li Chenzhou, a half-step Celestial, below the stage—no one dared to utter the word "no."

But in their silence, they were also thinking about the same question: If the young leader is already like this, then who exactly is the great leader?

The sword competition in Yangzhou ended without a clear winner.

But everyone who came recognized one person—Dongfang Weiwo, the young leader of the Azure Dragon Society.

As dusk settled, a soft, orange-red glow spread across the surface of Slender West Lake, and the outline of the island in the center of the lake was sketched with a dark golden edge in the setting sun.

Envoys from all sides of the world departed the island one after another, the sounds of horses' hooves, cart tracks, and oars dissipating in all directions. The hustle and bustle of Yangzhou gradually subsided, and the streets lit up with the lights of countless homes.

Dongfang Weiwo stood on the edge of the island in the middle of the lake, looking at the lights. Three steps behind him, Li Chenzhou stood with his hands behind his back. A ray of afterglow separated the two of them.

"They're even more afraid now that the Great Dragon Head isn't coming," Li Chenzhou suddenly said.

Dongfang Wei did not turn back. "What I fear is the unseen blade."

"Your trip to Zhongzhou—" Li Chenzhou paused, "..." "The Great Dragon Head asked me to deliver a message to you."

Dongfang Weiwo turned his head to the side.

Li Chenzhou's voice was very low, so low that only the two of them could hear it:

"Someone is waiting for you on Zhongzhou Road. You'll know when you get there."

Dongfang Weiwo remained silent for two breaths, then nodded.

The Great Dragon Head will not appear. But the Great Dragon Head has been watching. The one who has never shown his true face handed the entire chessboard to the Young Dragon Head and retreated off the chessboard.

This unresolved mystery itself is a far greater pressure than any force.

The Eastern Continent has temporarily stabilized. All forces have temporarily ceased hostilities in the face of the power of the Demon Sealing and the intimidation of the Azure Dragon Society, awaiting the moment when heaven and earth merge.

Ye Xingchen tested the broken sword and was convinced of its effectiveness. Wu Zetian put the sword away.

Qin Lin'an closed the book. Wangwo and Guiyuan each expressed their opinions. And the empty dragon-carved chair looked back as everyone left.

But he knew that an even bigger storm was waiting for him in the Central Plains.

Lu Moshen is not in the Eastern Continent, nor in the Imperial Mausoleum, nor in the Northern Territory.

He was in the very center of the Tianxuan Continent, waiting for the moment when the continent would be restored to its rightful place six months later.

The fact that a scout from the Southern Frontier could infiltrate the Yangzhou Sword Tournament venue without a sound demonstrates that the Southern Frontier demons' infiltration of the Eastern Continent was earlier and deeper than anyone anticipated.

Moreover, the phrase "When heaven and earth unite, the outcome will be clear"—Dongfang Weiwo always felt that there was a half-sentence left uncarved after the words "the outcome will be clear." Was it because there wasn't enough time to carve it, or was it intentionally left uncarved?

A lake breeze swept across the arena, ruffling his long hair that reached his waist. He turned and glanced at the young, sharp faces below.

Ye Xingchen had closed his eyes again, but the smile on his lips remained. Wu Zetian rested her knife on her lap and ate a piece of dry rations. Qin Lin'an opened his book again, but was looking westward.

The sword formation of the Four Great Swordsmen had loosened, but their fingers remained on the sword hilts. Wangzai was at the corner of the platform, fiddling with prayer beads. Guiyuan was still watching the fish, but the school of fish had already dispersed.

These people are now standing under the same roof because a common threat is looming over them.

Six months later, they may be comrades fighting side by side, or they may become rivals again at some point.

But that was six months later.