The Truth Revealed

The Truth Revealed...

Qin Wentian's words lashed out like whips, cutting through the air with harshness as he degraded the group of fourth-ranked Grandmasters before him, treating them as if they were mere trash. It was as though he had intentionally ignited the flames of their temper.

Who were these individuals? They were esteemed figures wherever they went in the realm of Grand Xia, treated with the highest respect. But here they stood, publicly scolded and belittled by a young lad not even twenty years of age. How could their hearts remain unshaken?

Yet, despite the torrent of his derision, they maintained their silence. None among them rose to his provocation, and the crowd surrounding them refrained from erupting in anger. When they had coerced Ghaus to engage, it was a mere experimental ploy, testing the waters of the formation.

Ghaus's demise hadn't provoked any sympathy from them. On the contrary, his death provided them with invaluable information. It revealed the enigmatic nature of the illusory formation, which concealed numerous traps within its layers. Although the traps themselves were third-ranked, the formation itself had such a potent camouflage that even their keen senses couldn't detect them. Thus, the strength of their perception was rendered useless against these hidden hazards. In essence, their mastery was inconsequential when they couldn't perceive the danger before them. No matter how skilled or experienced they were, these traps were designed to counteract even their expertise.

These were all aged individuals who had spent a century or more on this earth. The implications were clear: they had to exercise extreme caution.

While the demise of others didn't stir their emotions, their own lives held immense value. They would never gamble unless they were utterly confident in their success. Even if Qin Wentian baited them with contemptuous remarks, they wouldn't budge.

"Why such cruelty, young man?" Eccentric Song pondered, stroking his beard as he coolly remarked, "Perhaps you've gained insights from the ancient scroll, but do you truly believe you possess the credentials to be so audacious in our presence?"

"We held back earlier, giving you a chance. But your recklessness has truly surpassed our expectations. Can you fathom the extent of your impetuosity? If any one of us fourth-ranked Grandmasters employed our fourth-ranked Inscriptions to end your life, could you withstand the onslaught?"

Eccentric Song chuckled, sharing meaningful glances with his fellow Grandmasters.

The weight of years was directly proportional to one's experience. There was no need for them to neutralize Qin Wentian's formation. They could craft fourth-ranked Inscriptions with the sole purpose of terminating him. A straightforward solution, devoid of risks.

Bailu Yi, in a gesture of contempt, regarded the fourth-ranked Grandmasters with disdain. Not one had the audacity to step forward and disable the formation, and now Eccentric Song was attempting to rationalize their hesitancy with a slew of excuses. How laughable.

And what was even more absurd than their reluctance to dismantle the formation was their intention to gang up on a young man by launching fourth-ranked Inscriptions from a distance.

Bailu Yi's remark hung in the air, largely disregarded by those present.

"Old Liang, the lad here has dispatched your guards. Therefore, it's only fitting that you be the one to end his life," suggested the black-faced, middle-aged man, directing his gaze at Old Liang. The man continued, "My Puppets shall serve as your defenders."

While he had constructed a few third-ranked Puppets, his ultimate aspiration was to forge fourth-ranked ones. The Ascendant's ancient scroll stood as a prime opportunity to fulfill his dream.

"I will inscribe a defensive formation to ensure your safety," Eccentric Song chimed in. Old Liang's eyes gleamed with an enigmatic emotion, finally nodding in agreement.

From this, Qin Wentian deduced that, aside from Fenrir, only these three Grandmasters were of the fourth rank. He remained uncertain whether the other Heavenly Dipper Sovereign among them was a fourth-ranked Divine Inscriptionist as well.

This specific Heavenly Dipper Sovereign and Fenrir stood as the most formidable individuals present. Eccentric Song and the others' deferential behavior toward the Heavenly Dipper Sovereign hinted at their underlying apprehension. They hadn't dared to involve him in their actions since the outset.

As for the remainder of the attendees, they were likely disciples or guards affiliated with Eccentric Song, Old Liang, and the black-faced, middle-aged man. Nevertheless, Qin Wentian couldn't definitively determine if any other concealed fourth-ranked Grandmasters were among the gathering.

With great caution, Old Liang inched closer, his sunken eyes locked onto Qin Wentian. A gravity had settled over his expression; he no longer dared to underestimate his adversary.

In response, Qin Wentian let out a chuckle, finding amusement in their wariness. "I, Qin, shall remain seated, awaiting whatever comes."

With that, he settled into a cross-legged position, closing his eyes as though the events transpiring outside the formation were no longer of concern to him.

"This lad is certainly sly, Old Liang. Don't be taken in by his facade," cautioned the black-faced, middle-aged man. He summoned a Puppet to serve as Old Liang's safeguard, paving the way forward.

Old Liang maximized his perception and forcefully stamped on the ground. Each step he took brought forth radiant runic imprints. This fourth-ranked Grandmaster was about to initiate his inscription.

Despite his preparations, Old Liang hesitated to close in, opting instead to maintain a cautious distance from Qin Wentian.

After a while, a surge of formidable energy surged from the inscription Old Liang was crafting. With his vast experience as a fourth-ranked Grandmaster, he needed merely two hours to inscribe a flawless fourth-ranked symbol.

However, an hour later, Qin Wentian remained serenely meditating with closed eyes. A wicked gleam glinted within Old Liang's eyes—this youth was inviting death.

Without sparing another glance at Qin Wentian, Old Liang poured his concentration into his work. The overwhelming aura emanating from his inscription intensified.

"Far too slow," Qin Wentian muttered. He slammed his palm onto the ground, and instantly, the illusory shape of a double-headed flood dragon materialized. Roaring with fury, the flood dragon transformed into a streak of light, hurtling toward Old Liang. Observing this, the black-faced, middle-aged man coldly harrumphed. He had been closely monitoring Qin Wentian and swiftly summoned a Puppet to interpose itself in front of Old Liang, ready to intercept the attack.

"BOOM!" With another forceful stomp, Qin Wentian conjured a multitude of arrows, aiming them at Old Liang and locking him in place.

Old Liang's disdain was palpable—these assaults were but juvenile tricks. He crushed the ground beneath him, forging a shield from the radiance of Divine Inscriptions. However, in the next instant, a second demon-like dragon loomed before him, charging with explosive speed. The two-headed flood dragon surged forward, forcing the guarding Puppet to retreat.

With a scaly claw, the demon-like dragon lashed out, compelling Old Liang to recoil. The rending sounds signaled the disintegration of his light shield.

"Back off!" The black-faced man bellowed as he witnessed Qin Wentian's relentless assault on Old Liang. He summoned a fearsome shadowy lance and charged forward, thrusting at the demon-like dragon. The lance bore an indescribable power. Yet again, another colossal black dragon emerged, its claw sweeping through the air and effortlessly dispelling the manifestation of the demon-like dragon.

No doubt remained—the lance in question was a fourth-ranked Divine Weapon.

As the remnants of the demon-like dragon vanished, Old Liang's complexion turned a pallid shade. His earlier efforts had gone to waste, as the inscription process of his fourth-ranked symbol was disrupted midway. The intricate web of runic outlines wavered and untangled, dissolving into nothingness. Qin Wentian's objective had been achieved.

"Enough of this delay. Let's unite and put an end to this impudent child," the black-faced, middle-aged man commanded with a firm swing of his shadowy lance. The very thought spurred the manifestation of that formidable black dragon once more, a resounding explosion accompanying its emergence. The dragon's forceful charge collided with the numerous Divine Inscription ramparts, triggering their automatic activation. However, the black-faced man's assault was futile against Qin Wentian's formation.

Three days had been spent by Qin Wentian to construct this intricate Grand Formation. Ever since his encounter with Bailu Tong, he foresaw impending trouble. As anticipated, a group of fourth-ranked Grandmasters descended like scavengers on a potential prize.

Old Liang's eyes narrowed in response to the black-faced man's words. He had narrowly escaped death, and if the man had already devised such a plan, why hadn't he proposed it sooner?

Eccentric Song stroked his beard, a glint of sharpness flickering in his eyes. The other Heavenly Dipper Sovereign stood by, wordless, as if merely a spectator to the unfolding drama.

"What's your intention?" Eccentric Song addressed the question to the Sovereign, his tone respectful yet tinged with a hint of trepidation. This individual, like Fenrir, was both a Heavenly Dipper Sovereign and a fourth-ranked Grandmaster.

"Rely on your own abilities," the old man nonchalantly replied, his words dripping with arrogance.

"Very well, we shall depend on our own capabilities," Eccentric Song responded with a smile, summoning three Puppets before him. One Puppet was adorned in battle armor, constructed entirely from Divine Weapons. Its limbs bristled with menacing blades and sickles, exuding an aura of deadly sharpness.

Old Liang's heart surged with covetous desire at the sight. The old eccentric had lived for countless years, and his collection was undoubtedly reflective of his experience. A single fourth-ranked Puppet summoned by him was already a priceless treasure.

The black-faced man said naught, yet threads of shadowy darkness coiled around his lance. Its aura of power was undeniable—it was, after all, a fourth-ranked Divine Weapon.

To their eyes, Qin Wentian was a mere jesting jester whose demise was only a matter of time. Their curiosity centered on the aftermath of his death—among them, who would seize the coveted ancient scroll? This concern restrained them from unleashing their full force, reserving their strength for the impending power struggle.

Yet, astonishingly, conventional methods couldn't snuff out Qin Wentian's life. To vanquish him, they were left with no recourse but to wield their most domineering means.

Quietly cursing, Old Liang lamented his underwhelming array of treasures.

"Is this the unbridled prowess of a fourth-ranked Grandmaster?" pondered Qin Wentian, his demeanor as serene and unperturbed as before, defying the grim circumstances.

Seeing this, Bailu Yi's heart constricted. Bailu You sidled over and taunted in a low tone, "You truly think Qin Wentian has a fighting chance? These are fourth-ranked Grandmasters we're dealing with."

"Watch and see," replied Bailu Yi with tenacity, her confidence buoyed by the composure etched on Qin Wentian's face.

With a wave of Old Liang's hand, an umbrella appeared in his grip. Opening it, a golden radiance enveloped him as he aimed the umbrella's tip toward Qin Wentian. He began his cautious approach.

"Chi, chi…" The shadowy lance cleaved through space, leaving a trail of inky fissures in its wake. The surrounding terrain erupted into fragments, the black-faced man scouring for concealed traps. His eyes gleamed coldly—how could third-ranked Inscriptions, however potent, withstand the onslaught of his fourth-ranked Divine Weapon? Concealed or overt, traps would crumble under his direct approach of pure obliteration.

Old Liang's twirling umbrella emitted an unbroken spiral of golden light, sweeping the ground to expose any concealed traps as he advanced with vigilance.

As for Eccentric Song, his fourth-ranked bladed Puppet led the advance, each stride ripping the earth asunder. Upon nearing Qin Wentian, he regarded him as a lifeless corpse.

"Young one, how would you prefer to meet your end?" Eccentric Song sneered. Qin Wentian's reply was to rise from his seated position, asking softly, "Are you all really so certain?"

"Despite your veiled techniques, they crumble into insignificance before absolute might," the black-faced, middle-aged man asserted coldly, his lance swaying as he continued his advance. His words were a declaration of his path—a path of destruction, a path marked by shattered earth beneath his feet.

"Oh? Why not take a look behind you?" Qin Wentian added with an indifferent tone. The black-faced, middle-aged man condescendingly humored the request, only to be seized by disbelief the moment he turned his gaze rearward.

From the earth, argent rays of light burst forth, weaving an intricate tapestry of Divine Inscriptions. The obliterated ground held no sway over the activation of this potent formation.

In ceaseless rotation, the Divine Inscription etched itself into the earth, casting forth beams of silver luminescence that grew in intensity, converging into a swirling vortex that devoured the sunlight.

"RUMBLE!" The vortex's rapid spin tore through the very fabric of space. In a single gesture, Qin Wentian directed the immense tornado toward the three other fourth-ranked Grandmasters and himself. The gale's power swept them all into its center, whisking them away within a silver-hued realm that materialized within the formation.

The Grandmasters stood stupefied, their bodies trembling as they gazed at the youth suspended in midair. A whirlpool of emotions churned within them, shaking their souls to their core.

"Still brimming with confidence?" Qin Wentian's voice held neither anger nor hostility, just a chilling indifference. Yet, this was enough to etch a cataclysmic realization into their minds, a truth that reverberated through their hearts.

Behold the supremacy of a fourth-ranked Grandmaster!