An elder with a flowing white beard appeared before the gathered crowd, his hair bristling with fury, his aura commanding and awe-inspiring.
He was the elder dispatched by the City Lord's Manor to oversee the Youth Arena. Since the arena's inception, his post had been largely uneventful.
After all, the City Lord's Manor stood as a towering authority within Loulan City—an institution few dared to offend openly.
Moreover, those who came to the Youth Arena were all scions of prominent families, youths of considerable status. None were expected to act so brazenly.
It was due to this elder's sudden intervention that Young Master He had been sent flying.
Now, he lay embedded in the wall, blood staining his garments, completely unconscious.
The followers who had come with him trembled from head to toe, paralyzed under the crushing aura of a high-rank Martial King, unable even to lift their heads.
Such was the might of a high-tier Martial King.
Only upon stepping into the Martial King realm could one be said to have truly embarked upon the path of cultivation in the Divine Valley Continent. Yet beyond this threshold, each step upward became a monumental endeavor.
It is precisely this difficulty that renders each level within the Martial King stage vastly distinct from the next.
"Hmph! To think someone would dare cause trouble on the grounds of the City Lord's Manor! I wonder if you've taken leave of your senses—or is there someone behind the scenes pulling the strings?"
The speaker was none other than Sikong Ran.
Gu Qingli raised a brow and glanced in his direction. That devilishly handsome face wore a mocking smile, while his dark gaze swept past Li Ke'er and Gu Qinglin, brimming with undisguised contempt and ridicule.
Though young, Sikong Ran was the eldest son of the City Lord's Manor—a figure who walked unchallenged through Loulan City, above reproach. His exceptional talent only added to his formidable reputation.
Now he stood at the entrance, his brows furrowed, voice sharp as a blade—and not a single soul dared oppose him.
Though the great hall was filled with people, a heavy silence fell over all. No one dared provoke his wrath.
Li Ke'er cast a bitter glance at Gu Qingli, who remained unscathed, cursing her luck in secret. If help had come a moment later, she would have been maimed if not killed.
"What are you saying, young master? We were merely touring Loulan City and happened upon the Youth Arena for a few friendly exchanges."
Though Young Master He had lost consciousness, his companions were still awake.
But faced with this aristocratic youth—who, despite his age, radiated such power and dominance—they dared not meet his gaze, much less challenge him.
By now, the white-bearded elder had stepped forward to stand at Sikong Ran's side.
Only then did the followers of Young Master He realize the truth: this was the heir of the City Lord's Manor. Their hearts sank further into dread.
"Step aside! Do you take me for a blind man? A duel between a One-Star Martial King and a Great Martial Warrior—what a farce! And that last move was clearly intended to kill! Could it be you were sent here to eliminate Miss Qingli?"
A shadow fell across Sikong Ran's perfectly sculpted features as his piercing gaze swept across the room, studying each face. Then, with a faint curl of his lips, he offered a cold, derisive smile.
"Unable to win on your own, so you resort to dragging in a washed-up One-Star Martial King, already past his prime, to do your dirty work?"
His words struck with ruthless precision—sharp, incisive, and utterly unforgiving.