“Little Shi, are you speaking to me?” Outside the palace walls, a middle-aged Daoist nun stood in ethereal moon-white robes, her demeanor cold and aloof, holding a horsetail whisk with an air of transcendent grace. The towering city walls, thick and imposing, bore witness to the tense atmosphere as every warrior atop them paled. After the legendary battle of the Twin Stones, the title “Little Shi” had become a term of endearment and praise. Yet this Daoist nun, haughty and overbearing, used it now—after Shi Hao had ascended as the Human Emperor—as nothing short of disdain. The way she uttered it, as if calling him “Little Li” or “Little Wu,” and earlier even referring to him as “child,” dripped with arrogance, as though she looked down upon him from on high.
“Daoist nun, are you provoking me?” Shi Hao’s voice boomed from within the palace, majestic yet laced with a chilling edge.
“Little Shi, why not come out and meet me?” the middle-aged Daoist nun said.
“Daoist nun, cease your insolence! Do not speak so recklessly and disrespect the Human Emperor!” a general roared. To address the newly crowned emperor in such a manner was outright contempt, something none of the warriors could tolerate. This was their nation’s sovereign—no outsider would be permitted such disrespect.
“Oh? Is this not how the world addresses him? Such a dazzling young man surely merits such praise. I, too, find it fitting,” the Daoist nun replied flatly, standing unmoved before the walls.
“You—how dare you!” Another general bellowed, ordering all archers on the walls to nock their massive black bows with crimson-tipped arrows, their shafts inscribed with glowing runes. These were Spirit-Piercing Arrows, specially forged to slay mighty cultivators—capable of piercing through savage beasts and felling kings. Though few in number, their release could darken the heavens.
“Such discourtesy to a guest, drawing bows against me—are you forcing me to defend myself?” the Daoist nun said coldly. As she stood, wisps of white mist coiled around her, exuding an overwhelming aura. The unmistakable pressure of a Venerable erupted, shaking the world in an instant.
The warriors on the walls shuddered, overwhelmed by the sheer might of a Venerable—a chasm of power they could never hope to bridge. A silver ripple emanated from the Daoist nun, expanding rapidly like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf the entire wall in deafening force.
“Audacity!” A thunderous roar split the air like a divine blade, intercepting the silver ripple and scattering it into nothingness.
From within the palace, Shi Hao strode forth on a path of white jade, clad in golden battle armor, the Divine Halberd of the Nation strapped to his back and a sacred sword in hand. His eyes blazed like twin torches, his presence awe-inspiring. With a creak, the vermilion gates swung open, and Shi Hao stepped out, locking his gaze onto the Daoist nun.
“Little Shi, I come on behalf of the Heaven Mending Sect. Though you are a nation’s emperor, is this how you treat a guest? Should you not invite me into your palace?” the Daoist nun said.
“If I allowed you in, would you dare enter?” Shi Hao retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.
The Daoist nun, a Venerable who had roamed the world for decades and faced countless mighty figures, felt her eyes frost over at the young man’s arrogance. The name “Little Shi” had spread far beyond these lands, especially after his coronation, yet she remained haughty—for she was a Venerable of centuries, and he was but a youth.
“To become an emperor at such a tender age is no small feat. But do not forget—the world is vast, and talents abound. You should hold some reverence, especially for your elders,” she chided.
“Do I need you to teach me?” Shi Hao replied curtly.
The Daoist nun’s expression darkened. From the start, this youth had spoken little—a silent arrogance, as though he looked down upon her.
“Young man, you are too insolent! Even as an emperor, you cannot slight a Venerable so—and your throne is precarious at best. How dare you be so brazen?!” she snapped.
“Instead of reflecting on yourself, you blame me for disrespect? If you seek death, I shall grant it. If not—begone!” Shi Hao said icily.
Not only were the generals on the walls stunned, but the Daoist nun herself paled with fury. Such directness, such utter disregard for her dignity—this young emperor had remained unshaken, treating her as nothing.
“Foolish child!” she hissed.
With a flash, Shi Hao struck first. His sword traced a streak of radiance, like a falling star, yet carrying a devastating force as it slashed toward her.
“A mere Array Formation junior dares defy me?!” the Daoist nun cried. She flicked a finger, releasing a silver light that met the sword energy midair. The collision erupted like a shattered star, shaking the heavens.
Thankfully, boundless dragon qi surged from the earth, sealing the space and preventing the capital from being torn apart—for a Venerable’s casual strike could topple mountains and drain seas.
The Daoist nun’s heart quaked. How could a fifteen-year-old block her attack? This defied reason. She was a Venerable—mortal power should never rival hers!
Yet Shi Hao advanced, stepping beyond the palace gates, his body wreathed in dense dragon qi. Massive celestial dragons coiled around him, a sight both terrifying and magnificent.
“Perish!” The Daoist nun slashed her hand like a blade, unleashing a silver crescent that expanded to hundreds of feet, sweeping forth with unstoppable force.
Shi Hao’s golden sword met it head-on, erupting in blinding light like a sunburst. The clash sent shockwaves through the air, and the silver crescent shattered into nothingness.
“Imperial Dragon Qi!” the Daoist nun murmured, her eyes flashing with shock. In mere days, Little Shi had fused with the nation’s fortune, wielding this mysterious power. Without it, no matter how prodigious, he could never face a Venerable. No fifteen-year-old had ever achieved such a feat.
“Even with Imperial Dragon Qi, you are but a novice. It is borrowed strength—watch as I suppress you!” she declared, brandishing her whisk.
Silver threads exploded from it, streaking like chains from all directions to bind him.
Shi Hao’s sword hummed, releasing a surge of radiant energy. Sword beams like rainbows surged forth, clashing violently with the silver threads. The sky blazed with light, the entire capital trembling.
Only the protective arrays and surging dragon qi kept the devastation contained.
“An old hag like you dares come here with such arrogance?” Shi Hao taunted.
The Daoist nun, once a beauty who had dazzled her generation and commanded reverence as a disciple of the Heaven Mending Sect, now seethed at being dismissed by a youth. A century of cultivation could not quell her fury.
“Brat, I shall teach you respect!” she roared.
In an instant, two streaks of light shot into the clouds, their battle shaking the heavens. Winds howled, thunder roared, and the sky itself seemed to fracture under their clash.
The citizens of the capital watched in terror and awe. This was the power of a Venerable—capable of annihilating mountains and drying oceans. Yet what stunned them more was their young emperor, barely in his teens, matching such a foe.
In the cultivation world, such talent was unheard of. A fifteen-year-old dueling a Venerable? Even the three great sects’ disciples shuddered.
A sword flash—three thousand silver threads scattered. The whisk was severed. The Daoist nun faltered, now on the defensive.
“How? Little Shi shouldn’t be at the Venerable realm yet!”
“It’s the Imperial Dragon Qi—look! Those dragons around him draw power from the palace!”
The three sects’ disciples grimaced, staring skyward.
“Where is Yue Chan?” the Daoist nun finally demanded, realizing her plan to intimidate had backfired. She had come primarily to inquire about the Moon Fairy’s whereabouts, yet now found herself outmatched.
“Lower your posture and beg this emperor,” Shi Hao mocked.
“You—insolent wretch!” she spat.
Suddenly, the world trembled as Shi Hao’s sword erupted with divine might, its pressure forcing the entire city to its knees.
The Daoist nun gasped, summoning a black tortoiseshell shield, its dark radiance clashing with the sword’s holy light.
*Clang!*
The shield cracked under the golden blade’s strike, its divine essence draining as it was sent flying.
“My Profound Shield!” she cried in anguish. This treasure, said to be indestructible, a relic of a sacred tortoise, had been damaged.
Another slash—a thousand sword shadows filled the sky.
*Splat!*
The Daoist nun’s arm fell, blood spraying high. She screamed in shock and pain—wounded by a mere boy.
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