Chapter 650: The Start of the Hunt
The ninth prince sighed. "Unfortunately, the winner every year is the crown prince."
"Don't worry. You'll be the victor this time."
According to the ninth prince, there was no need to hand over the entire lifeform as proof that it had been hunted; only the head was enough.
Zhang Lie's lips curled up in a smile. In that case, he would be able to fill up essentially all his gene fragments during this hunt.
"Master, my father wants to meet you during the hunt. Will that be alright with you?"
"Very well."
The ninth prince nodded.
Zhang Lie put both hands behind his head and leaned back. "I have to say, your quarters are the worst ones in the palace. I suppose I'll have to make do for a few days, just in case anything happens to you."
The ninth prince was overjoyed. "I'll have a room prepared for you immediately, Master!"
There were no maids around this part of the palace, and the ninth prince had personally fixed his roof when it needed fixing. Indeed, he did all the chores around his quarters.
Was this the due treatment afforded a prince? The ninth prince didn't mind; he had grown used to it since the past. While his mother was alive, she had been the one doing all the chores, and the ninth prince had learned from the very best. He even rather enjoyed doing these chores, because they gave him fond memories of his mother.
Meanwhile, the Wang clan head brought the killing blade back to the Wang clan.
"What do you think, Jian Mo? I can't believe Wang Jian would perish so easily, especially given his talent."
Jian Mo hefted the blade, out of which killing intent surged. As his eyes gleamed, that killing intent suddenly shrunk back and disappeared within the blade. He inspected the blade carefully. "Wang Jian was killed in a single blow without being able to retaliate."
The Wang clan head frowned. "Did the king of the realm himself strike at Wang Jian?"
Right as he spoke, however, he shook his head. "No, it can't be. If that were the case, he would have taken down the Wang clan."
"Who, then?"
The Wang clan head sighed. "A man I've never seen or heard of."
"A foreigner?"
"It's very likely." The Wang clan head scrutinized Jian Mo carefully. "How do you view your chances?"
"There's no one in this world whom I, Wang Mo, can't kill." Jian Mo's body overflowed with killing intent so strong and so condensed that it seemed to waft up from his body, forming a demonic sword behind his back.
Even the Wang clan head had a momentary look of fear. The man in front of him, who was known as Jian Mo and whose given name was Wang Mo, had been the previous bladewielder of the Wang clan. While he was active, the name of the Wang clan had soared to especially great heights, striking fear in all its enemies.
The Wang clan head's eyes narrowed. "Someone who dares kill a Wang bladewielder cannot go unpunished. I'll leave you to reclaim the ninth prince and his master's heads."
"As you know, no prey has ever been able to escape my clutches."
As the hunt drew near, Zhang Lie and the ninth prince headed toward the designated location. Hills stretched out as far as the eye could see, and a strange power seemed to permeate the air.
This power was a manifestation of natural law, but Zhang Lie's strength hadn't developed to the extent that he would be able to do anything more than sense it—for the moment, he wouldn't be able to understand the foreign power deeply.
The royal hunt was so massive an affair that the princes, their aides, the court officials, and the support staff combined constituted thousands of men. The king of the realm, however, didn't make an appearance. He remained ensconced in a golden tent.
Each of the princes brought their own followers. The crown prince had so many they could have doubled as a military battalion; apparently, he would be simultaneously participating in the hunt and guarding the king of the realm.
The second prince arrived with the Jindao clan. This was the first time Zhang Lie had met them; they were all dressed in golden armor and equipped with golden blades.
They seemed strong, but Zhang Lie couldn't help finding them rather vulgar and ostentatious given their get-up. Ignoring their outer appearance, however, they did seem to be relatively strong. Quite a few among their fighters were at a peak- or post-peak-grade level of strength.
The third prince came along with his own guards and the Wang clan. Every member of the Wang clan was equipped with a sword. One person in particular caught Zhang Lie's attention; the moment he appeared, he had been shooting death glares at Zhang Lie as though there were some great enmity between them. His body was wreathed in killing intent, so strong he had to have butchered countless humans to get to this point.
From him, Zhang Lie sensed a familiar aura, one much like Wang Jian's—the bladewielder who had stepped down the wrong path in his pursuit of the sword. The man in front of him was even further off-track than Wang Jian, so much so that Zhang Lie was surprised he was still a man rather than a demon.
The third prince told Jian Mo, "I'm very surprised the Wang clan was willing to spare you for such an occasion. Though seeing as you've been glancing at my ninth brother's direction, I suppose they have an ulterior motive for doing so."
Jian Mo laughed. "You're overthinking things, prince. I am ever your aide."
The third prince snorted. "I care not for the Wang clan's plans. Don't you cause trouble for me—and don't forget what his majesty said. This is the Wang clan's final chance."
Jian Mo lowered his head. "I understand, prince."
This was the first time Zhang Lie had seen the fourth prince. His features were rough, his dialect vulgar. He held a great polearm in his hands.
If the third prince were a sword, he was a polearm, fierce, unbridled, and untamed. Behind him were the men of the Feng clan.
The fourth prince glanced in the third prince's direction. "To think the Wang clan has sent Jian Mo. I wonder who they're trying to kill? Do you think you have the skill to stop him?"
The final question was directed at the one-armed bodyguard standing by his side, who glared at Jian Mo with hatred in his eyes. "He was the one who chopped my other arm off."
"No, then?"
The one-armed bodyguard's voice was hoarse, as though his throat had been scraped raw. "Ten years ago, I wouldn't have been able to block his blows. Ten years hence, he will not be able to block mine."
Of all the princes, the fifth was the most gaudy by far. He was draped in satins and silks, gold and silver, jewels and gems. He gave off a palpable aura—a clear sign that he had made progress down the Wang clan's path of strength-through-wealth.
Behind him was a large group of guards, decked out much like the Jindao with gem-studded golden armor and blades. The fifth prince might not be particularly strong, but his showmanship made up for what he lacked.
When he saw Jian Mo in the third prince's retinue, he almost laughed out loud. It looked as though the Wang clan head had truly been annoyed by Wang Jian's death...
1. Jian Mo (剑魔), lit. sword-devil. A nickname or title of sorts.
2. Jindao (金刀), lit. gold-blade.
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