Chapter 20: An Unexpected Weapon (2)
Several people echoed the man in the purple robe, joining in the laughter. Their gazes toward Yan Chuan were filled with disdain.
The senior disciple in the black robe, however, merely furrowed his brows, his expression unchanged.
Yan Chuan narrowed his eyes, fixing them on the purple-robed man who had just mocked him.
"And who are you?" Yan Chuan asked again.
"Who am I? Have you forgotten even me?" the man in the purple robe replied with a wicked grin.
"This is Senior Brother Feng Shao, the grandson of the current sect master," someone nearby quickly introduced.
"Feng Shao?" Yan Chuan raised an eyebrow.
"What did you say?" Feng Shao’s face turned cold.
Ignoring him, Yan Chuan turned to the black-robed senior disciple. "And you, who might you be?"
The senior disciple named Jiang Nan looked slightly surprised. "My name is Jiang Nan. Though your father did what was deemed disgraceful, I still respect him. Rest assured, we’re merely passing through and happened to meet by chance. I won’t make things difficult for you."
"Disgraceful? Hah. My father’s actions are not for outsiders to judge," Yan Chuan replied coldly.
"Watch your tone, Yan Chuan! Your father consorted with a demoness, leaving our sect gravely wounded, and sired a bastard like you, bringing shame upon us. If not for my grandfather’s mercy, you’d not be alive today. Senior Brother Jiang Nan is the top disciple among the third generation—what right have you to speak so? You little bastard!" Feng Shao snapped.
"Enough!" Huo Guang barked in anger.
A chorus of harsh clicks rang out as the soldiers raised their bows and spears.
The prince had been insulted, and the soldiers immediately bristled, weapons at the ready.
Yan Chuan waved his hand, stopping Huo Guang in his tracks.
"Hahaha, little bastard! Back when your father was alive, you could throw your weight around. But now? With just these few?" Feng Shao sneered.
Then, taking a deep breath, Feng Shao let out a thunderous roar. A tremendous wave of sound swept toward Yan Chuan’s troops.
Within the confines of the canyon, the roar seemed magnified many times over.
A rumble shook the air like a mighty wind, and the weaker soldiers staggered, barely able to grip their spears. Yan Chuan’s robes whipped violently around him as the force, mostly directed at him, surged forward.
Bracing himself, Yan Chuan steadied his feet, stamping down hard enough to leave an inch-deep imprint in the earth, not moving an inch more.
"Well done!" several voices called out, praising Feng Shao. He looked all the more pleased with himself.
Senior Brother Jiang Nan, however, merely looked on, as though tacitly approving, but did not intervene.
"The Essence Stage? He’s refined his essence energy?" Huo Guang’s face changed.
The Essence Stage—wasn’t that the realm of the immortals? No one in the entire Great Yan Kingdom had reached it, and yet here it was, right before their eyes?
"So, what do you think, little bastard?" Feng Shao said triumphantly.
"Nothing impressive," Yan Chuan replied coldly, full of disdain.
"What did you say?" Feng Shao’s tone chilled.
"Hmm?" Even Jiang Nan showed a hint of surprise.
"Feng Shao, from the way you target me at every turn, I suppose that back when my father was alive, you must have suffered at my hands quite often? Seven years have passed, and you’re still holding a grudge?" Yan Chuan said with a faint smile.
Feng Shao’s expression darkened—Yan Chuan had hit the mark.
"Hahaha! Seven years, little bastard! This is not the past. I am already an Essence Stage expert, and you? In the mundane world, I bet you’re still struggling at the Strength Stage!" Feng Shao sneered.
"Oh? Care to test that theory?" Yan Chuan’s eyes narrowed.
On the opposite side, several people looked surprised.
What did Yan Chuan mean by that? Could he be at the Essence Stage, too? Impossible. What resources were there in the mundane world? He’d have had nothing to cultivate with, and the sect had long since seized everything his father left behind. Essence Stage? Impossible!