“You’re quite something,” Yang Hao rarely praised others, but this time he was almost bursting with admiration. “Knowing that you’re about to be eliminated, yet still so calm—you’ve got my youthful flair! Want to call me godfather? I could teach you a few more tricks. Maybe in a hundred years or so, you might even master my composure when mountains collapse before you and I don’t even blink.”
“Pfft, composure!” Hun Yuanzi coldly shot back.
“Now wait,” Yang Hao slapped his head, suddenly recalling something. “Those old bastards from the Three Crystal Seas—none of them are any good. They threw me into a godforsaken black hole, nearly killing me and my master. Why the hell should we help them fight?”
“You won’t help?” Long Yun was astonished, his brain struggling to catch up.
“That’s right—don’t help!” Yang Hao stamped his foot decisively before turning to Luo Dongjie with a wave. “Son, why don’t you all go ahead first? Fly fast and don’t let the Three Crystal Seas catch up. We can meet again sometime, have tea, chase girls, that sort of thing.”
Since Yang Hao’s arrival, the atmosphere inside the spaceship had completely changed—what had been a tense situation about to explode had fallen apart. But even someone as calculating as Luo Dongjie couldn’t quite process Yang Hao’s sudden shift in attitude.
“Are you really letting us go?” Luo Dongjie took a deep breath. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll report your rebellion to the Empire?”
Yang Hao shook his head repeatedly. “Afraid? Of course not! Afraid of what? It was the Three Crystal Seas who rebelled, not me. I’m completely loyal to the Empire—utterly sincere! If they gave me the rank of Rear Admiral or something, I’d head straight to Earth to start work and let the Three Crystal Seas dance around on their own.”
“Leader Yang Hao!” The outer Mongol detachment’s Lei was still standing there, unable to bear it any longer. “Don’t forget—you’re the leader of the Anti-Empire Alliance. You’re supposed to lead us in resisting the Galactic Empire!”
“What kind of leader am I?” The mention of this only made Yang Hao angrier. “A leader who’s been betrayed, sent to die by you lot? Forget that! If I were the leader, my first order would be to disband the Anti-Empire Alliance. Everyone should go home, find their mothers, and stop bothering me!”
Lei had no retort. He simply didn’t understand Yang Hao’s personality and actually thought Yang might be defecting to the Empire. His anxiety was written all over his face as he schemed how to relay this information back to the Three Crystal Seas.
But most of the people in the cabin were Yang Hao’s loyal followers. They were so familiar with his chaotic thoughts and bizarre speech patterns that they knew he was just pulling a psychological stunt—confusing the enemy to achieve victory without fighting.
Long Yun, ever composed, had already caught on. “Captain, we can’t let them go.”
“Can’t let them go? Why not?” Yang Hao feigned deep sorrow. “Do they have a vendetta against me? Did they steal my wife?”
“They captured Amanda!” XII blurted out impatiently. “That Luo Dongjie is Amanda’s fiancé—he kidnapped the former master as a hostage!”
“What!!!” Yang Hao nearly jumped up—half genuinely shocked, half theatrically so. “So this pretty boy ‘son’ of mine is my love rival too? Daring to steal my woman—do you even want to live?”
“So are you letting them go or not?” Ling Ziyun sneered.
“Not letting go! Of course not!” Yang Hao quickly changed his tune, pointing with righteous indignation at Luo Dongjie. “Please be sure to mention this when you report to the Empire—that the Sunset Fleet was destroyed at the edge of the Three Crystal Seas because Major Luo Dongjie stole Yang Hao’s woman!”
Luo Dongjie was practically seething!
He had originally assumed that when he finally faced Yang Hao head-on, he would have the upper hand. Among people his age, he had yet to meet anyone more cunning or more mature than himself.
But now, Yang Hao’s few words had completely deflated Luo Dongjie’s momentum and placed him in an extremely awkward position—making it seem as though the entire conflict had erupted merely over a woman. This also cast serious doubt on the authenticity of the rebellion in the Three Crystal Seas.
In short, Yang Hao’s apparent nonsense was, in fact, highly effective.
Luo Dongjie was furious, but not rattled. As a fleet commander and a battle-hardened general, he would never allow himself to lose composure so easily. He still had his trump card.
“History is written by the victor,” Luo Dongjie said steadily. “Whether it’s the Sunset Fleet’s end or the doom of the Dreadnought, remains to be seen.”
“But I feel pretty certain about it,” Yang Hao smiled cheerfully. “You’re in a dangerous situation right now—on my ship, surrounded by my people. How do you plan to win? Just with those few?”
Yang Hao pointed toward Ling Ziyun and several others who had been gravely injured and were barely standing. Although they could still move, they were clearly no longer capable of fighting. Ling Ziyun couldn’t help but regret her overconfidence—she had assumed Yang Hao was still as weak as before, so she hadn’t brought Mist’s Ten Masters this time. Otherwise, not just one Yang Hao, but an entire ship full of Yang Haos wouldn’t have stood a chance. Now she found herself in such a pitiful state.
Ling Ziyun glanced back, waiting for Luo Dongjie to give the retreat order. Although they were on Yang Hao’s turf, she still had confidence in escaping if needed—she had escaped from this spaceship before.
But Luo Dongjie remained still, even displaying a calm, scholarly demeanor. His general’s uniform was spotless and dazzling, his sword gleaming. The only thing that sent chills down one’s spine was the murderous, bloodthirsty glint in his eyes—he showed no sign of retreat.
“A thug who made his fortune selling aphrodisiacs dares to challenge the mighty Galactic Empire?” Luo Dongjie spat out venomously. “Aphrodisiac cultivation! Hmph!”
“The Alchemical and Sword Cultivation Sect!” Yang Hao’s voice dropped low, his expression darkening. “Only I can call it that. To you, it’s the greatest and most incredible cultivation school in the universe—the Alchemical and Sword Cultivation Sect!”
“Aphrodisiac Sect! And a low-class one at that!” Luo Dongjie’s lips curled into a sneer.
“Choose your way to die, kid!” Hun Yuanzi could no longer contain himself, roaring from within Yang Hao’s dantian and startling everyone.
“I came prepared,” Luo Dongjie said confidently, “whether you’re Yang Hao or the Aphrodisiac Sect. Allow me to introduce someone to you—the greatest swordsman in the universe, the finest blade master, a master capable of killing you all.”
A master!
The universe is vast and lonely, filled with countless secrets. How many cultivators, sects, and schools exist within its dark-blue skies—some coexisting, others clashing, living and dying in endless cycles.
Yet how many dare to call themselves masters, and how many dare to claim to be the greatest swordsman?
Those once hailed as the strongest had long been hunted down and killed. The once-brilliant stars had fallen one by one. This is an age of rising heroes, where the glory of swordsmen may have faded, but new masters continue to emerge. No one can claim to stand at the peak of the universe and call themselves the strongest.
Yet Luo Dongjie spoke of this swordsman not with praise, but as a simple fact. He casually gestured toward a corner of the cabin.
That was when he appeared.
Or rather, that was when people finally noticed him.
He must have been sitting in that obvious corner of the spaceship all along, yet somehow remained unnoticed. He had coldly watched the conflict and battles unfold inside the cabin, silently observing Yang Hao’s godlike entrance without making a move. He was like a lurking lone wolf, motionless until the moment came.
Only when Luo Dongjie drew everyone’s gaze toward him did he finally show a hint of reluctance, taking a swig of wine before standing up and stepping into the light—both literal and metaphorical.
He was a drunkard, a ragged swordsman with a beard, wearing tattered clothes and carrying a rusty sword at his waist. He staggered as though he might collapse at any moment.
But no one dared to underestimate him, nor his sword—even though it had long lost its edge, even though it hung carelessly at his side. The aura of a swordsman still radiated from him, blindingly intense.
For he was the greatest wandering swordsman in the universe—the once-young Grand Sword Master, and the hero who had single-handedly severed an Imperial warship during the Outer Mongol campaign.
Situ Hai.
“Just call me Drunken Cat Situ,” Situ Hai chuckled bitterly, taking another swig.
Yang Hao fell silent. He might have even felt a flicker of fear deep inside, but he still stood firm, maintaining his stoic silence. Yang Hao had fought Situ Hai before, and one real battle was worth a thousand rumors. He knew all too well the gap between them.
The first time they met, Situ Hai had effortlessly countered the Aurora Technique with a single, seemingly effortless strike that nearly cost Yang Hao his life.
The second time, in the Bear Sanctum, Situ Hai had struck again. That time, he seemed even stronger, having mastered the Eleventh Sword—an unnamed technique that instantly shattered Yang Hao’s will to fight. He nearly died under Situ Hai’s blade, saved only by the timely arrival of Elder Hertz.
Such a master could indeed be considered the finest swordsman in the universe. His swordsmanship had long transcended mere technique—it had become a force, a form of control.
Besides Yang Hao, two others reacted most intensely. One was naturally Long Yun, who had once been Situ Hai’s closest friend and brother. Yet Situ Hai had run off with Long Yun’s wife and later abandoned her. Every time Long Yun saw Situ Hai, his eyes burned with rage, his teeth grinding audibly.
The other was Lei, the captain of the Third Outer Mongol Brigade. He was the one whose expression was the most anguished—not only tearful but trembling with emotion, nearly fainting.
It wasn’t hard to understand. Situ Hai was most famous for renouncing his title as Grand Sword Master of the Galactic Empire to become a wandering swordsman who saved countless planets in the outer territories. Alongside Elder Hertz, Situ Hai had once fought the Imperial fleet in a legendary battle in the Outer Mongol Left Spiral Arm, destroying the entire fleet with just the two of them. Since then, most of the rebel groups wandering the outer territories had taken the name “Outer Mongol,” and Lei was Situ Hai’s most devoted admirer.
Yet now, Lei was staring at a drunken Situ Hai—a fallen hero serving the Empire, seemingly lost to oblivion. How could he bear it?
“Who are you! Who the hell are you!!” Lei practically roared at Situ Hai.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage