The strength of Fatty

The strength of Fatty...

Chu Mang fumed upon hearing her story. A man who shunned power, seeking freedom, still faced such a tragedy.

Fan Le squinted, "Ye Xi, does the King's Consort's brother know who your mother was?"

"I'm not certain," Ye Xi replied, sensing Fan Le's intrigue.

"Well, your mother must have revealed her identity, yet he pursued his heinous act. It might not be as straightforward as you think," Fan Le mused.

"Are you suggesting he might have acted on King Yi's orders? But... my father killed him," Ye Xi wiped her tears, sighing. "I apologize for my outburst. Wentian, Chu Mang, Fan Le, please leave. My family's feud might entangle you. The young lord earlier was King Yi's second son."

"Silly, don't worry. Chu Mang is a High Prince, too. His brother is an Emperor," Qin Wentian reassured. Qiyun, a small country under the Ouyang Aristocrat Clan, held little significance to him.

From the Moon Continent's perspective, annihilating Qiyun was a trivial task.

Ye Xi glanced skeptically at Chu Mang. "Is that true, Big Bro Chu Mang?"

"Yeah, Wentian granted my brother the throne, and he commanded me to wander," Chu Mang affirmed. Ye Xi was perplexed but didn't delve further. As their conversation flowed, the mood lifted.

Qin Wentian, Chu Mang, and Fan Le seemed ordinary. Qin Wentian exuded calmness, Fan Le was playfully audacious but kind, and Chu Mang was a straightforward softie. Laughter had long evaded Ye Xi, until now.

...

The sun's rays painted the dawn, signaling a new day. The weather was fine, and guards already stood at the rampart's foremost platforms. Hushed discussions enveloped the crowd.

"Let's go, Wentian," Ye Xi tugged his sleeve, but he remained seated, smiling at her. "Will your father be here today?"

"Yes, his highness treats him well, employing him as a bodyguard. He'll likely attend," Ye Xi nodded.

"You'll reunite with your father. Why leave?" Qin Wentian grinned. Yet, a faint unease lingered in Ye Xi's heart.

"Sleeping God, don't stay there. We're not allowed near the front," a well-intentioned voice from the crowd advised.

"Don't you all grasp the situation? The High Princes frequent this place every year to study the depictions. It's a significant matter for them, so defying them means death."

"Thank you all, but… isn't that guy over there too?" Qin Wentian gestured to a figure nearby. A solitary swordsman, his rusty blade on his back, was engrossed in his own understanding.

The crowd exchanged amused glances. Was Sleeping God still napping? Even the High Princes respected the swordsman, an absurd comparison for Qin Wentian.

"Brother Wentian, that's 'Thirteen', Qiyun's top swordsman. His Sword Mandate is at the Transformation Boundary of the first level," Ye Xi whispered. Qin Wentian marveled at the young swordsman's prowess, his sixth-level Yuanfu cultivation combined with a high-level Mandate.

"Impressive. Similar talent but a vast disparity," Fatty chimed in. Ye Xi rolled her eyes, Fatty was great at one thing—self-praise.

A group of thirty to forty approached the platforms. The second son of King Yi, leading them, scowled at the rampart. Defying his order from yesterday, Qin Wentian and co. remained.

"Didn't I tell you to scram?" The young man fumed, his killing intent palpable. "Ye Xi, don't think I won't harm you because of his highness."

"Why can't we stay here?" Fan Le asked innocently.

"Without the High Princes, you'd be dead by now. I'll be generous—ten breaths to flee," the young man spat, bodyguards closing in on Qin Wentian's group.

Finally, the High Princes arrived. Amid guards, they radiated authority. A middle-aged man detached from one High Prince, addressing Ye Xi, "Xi'er, leave at once."

"Father." Ye Xi's head bowed, then turned to Qin Wentian. "Let's go, Brother Wentian."

"Why move? Names aren't etched here. This spot suits us best for studying. Let's stay," Qin Wentian grinned, unfazed by the young lord's anger.

"You scum!" The young man fumed at Qin Wentian's group. They seemingly intended to occupy the High Princes' seats.

Even swordsman 'Thirteen' occupied a less conspicuous platform, a sign of respect to Qiyun's High Princes.

"Brother Thirteen," a voice intoned.

In that moment, a High Prince's voice rang out. Thirteen's gaze shifted, acknowledging, "Your Highness."

"Brother Thirteen, your dedication shames me. I hope your breakthrough to the Heavenly Dipper Realm is successful." The High Prince's praise flowed, met with Thirteen's humble response, "I'll do my best. Thank you for your kind wishes."

Turning to Ye Xi, the High Prince called, "Uncle Ye, your daughter has grown. Call her over."

Ye Xi's father hesitated, then beckoned, "Ye Xi, come here."

Ye Xi glanced at her father, then at her companions. "Father, these are my friends: Brother Wentian, Big Bro Chu Mang, and Fan Le."

"Enough of this stubbornness," Ye Xi's father reprimanded, addressing Qin Wentian's group, "Ye Xi is impulsive. Could you please leave?"

Uncle Ye, this rampart is open to all. Why should we leave?" Fan Le smirked.

"Don't harm my daughter," the High Prince ordered nonchalantly, indicating a deadly threat to Qin Wentian's group.

The young man understood. Three others joined him, exuding lethal intent.

"We warned you of the High Princes' visit, yet you court death," the young man declared coldly. Sending three fifth-level Yuanfu guards was more than enough to crush Qin Wentian's young group.

Spectators sighed—a tragic end for Sleeping God and Axe Demon, known for their humor during shared cultivation.

"Brother Mang, they want us gone. What's your plan?" Fan Le asked with a cold glint in his eyes.

"Want to handle it or should I?" Chu Mang asked bluntly.

"Let me handle this one. No need for you yet." Fan Le grinned, raising his Arrow-type Astral Souls as a bow of Astral Light appeared.

Onlookers stared. Did the chubby guy intend to fight head-on? Against three fifth-level Yuanfu cultivators?

"Suicidal," a guard muttered. One charged at Fan Le, fist like a boulder rolling down a mountain, its impact monstrous.

Yet, in the same breath, Fan Le unleashed a golden, lightning-quick arrow ablaze with relentless flames.

A swift, remarkable swiftness, Fan Le had mastered the first tier of Insta-shot, the Mandate of Arrows.

At the Advanced Boundary, Insta-shot augmented an ordinary arrow's velocity by a factor of four. In battles, where speed translated to strength, archers thrived.

"Chi!" A crisp crack sliced through the air. The guard's fist attack disintegrated as the arrow sped towards him. He felt the attack's potency, his Astral Soul reinforcing his skin into stone.

BOOM! The arrow struck, forcing the guard back despite his enhanced defense. Astonishingly, Fan Le had managed to wound him.

Simultaneously, the second and third arrows breached spacetime, hitting the guard's forehead and igniting an incendiary blaze, turning him into ashes.

Though the narrative took time, the battle unfolded in an instant. The other two guards stood stupefied as their comrade turned to ash. Capitalizing on their distraction, Fan Le grinned shamelessly and unleashed two more arrows. Golden lightning streaks surged forth, eradicating the remaining two guards within moments. Three fifth-level Yuanfu cultivators had fallen.

The crowd remained in stunned silence, witnessing the spectacle unfold.

Fan Le's power matched that of his opponents, yet his Mandate's essence was amplified by his innate bloodline.

Fan Le didn't lower his bow, nocking another arrow aimed directly at the young lord, son of King Yi.

A mischievous grin curled on his lips, a devilish smile that sent shivers down spines. The young lord's face turned pale as their gazes locked.