There was nothing in the night.
But by dawn, the quiet began to stir.
In the early morning haze, the Ye estate swelled with tension as more and more people gathered. The Ye Clan—once a pillar of Qingyue City—had long held its place among the city's elite. Though the Du Clan had only risen to prominence in the last hundred years, it now stood shoulder to shoulder with the great houses, and today, it came for blood.
Rumors had already spread like wildfire: the Ye family's industries were under heavy suppression, their political standing diminished. Enemies who had long buried their grudges now resurfaced, and allies looked on with silent concern. The looming conflict between the descendants of Ye and Du was no longer a secret. Families sent their representatives not just to watch—but to witness a downfall.
The martial grounds were crowded, a buzz of whispers swelling in the air like locusts.
"This could be Ye Clan's end," someone muttered. "Du's people come from Beishan Bay—it's not just a fight, it's a challenge to their ancestors."
"The land of Beishan Bay... It's sacred to the Ye. If they give it up, they'll never rise again in Qingyue."
"But how can they win? The Ye have only two Condensed Yuan experts—one a Three-Star, the other barely at One-Star! Du has six—six! And Du Yuanming alone is already a Six-Star Condensed Yuan master!"
The crowd fell into grim silence. The disparity was too great. The duel had not even begun, yet the victor seemed preordained.
At the front of the martial arena sat Ye Zhengqing—upright, stern, and cloaked in a quiet power. Behind him stood his kin: Elder Brother Ye Hai, Second Uncle Ye Han, Ye Wei's father, Ye Yu, Ye Jingjing… all carrying the weight of the moment on their backs. On either side stood the younger generation: Ye Zhong, Ye Xuan, Ye Qiu. They were the clan's future, tense and solemn.
Ye Wei stood in a far corner, unnoticed by most. He was not qualified to participate in this trial. But his fists were clenched, his jaw locked—he understood what this meant. If Ye Zhong lost today, their clan might never recover.
More than strength was at stake. This was legacy. Ancestral pride.
The Du Clan had yet to arrive, but already the atmosphere was taut as a drawn bow.
"Du Yuanming, General Zhou Wu, and the President of the Linghe Chamber of Commerce, Dong He, have arrived!" a herald called suddenly.
All murmuring ceased.
The martial gates opened wide. Gongs and drums echoed through the ground as the Du contingent entered. Red banners flew, their swords gleaming like blood and silver. Their aura pressed like a stormcloud.
Compared to their force, the Ye Clan's side seemed dim.
At the lead walked Du Yuanming—confident, smirking, flanked by two powerful allies. The man to his right wore black armor, his expression carved from stone, a cruel scar splitting his cheek. His mere presence radiated the chill of death.
This was General Zhou Wu, commander of Qingyue's city guard—a Seven-Star Condensed Yuan expert, once a butcher of rebels in the Divine War.
To the left stood a corpulent man in silk robes, rings glittering on fat fingers. He smiled lazily, as though already bored.
Dong He—President of the Linghe Chamber, and a Five-Star Condensed Yuan expert. Wealthy, shrewd, and dangerous.
Behind them came the Du Clan's chosen youths—brimming with arrogance, their eyes sweeping across the Ye like conquerors surveying prey. Among them, Du Hanyue stood out, his cultivation already at Six-Star. In Qingyue, he was one of the top five geniuses.
Many of the Ye clenched their jaws. In just two months, the Du Clan's suppression had cost them dearly. Businesses collapsed, resources bled dry.
But it wasn't just business.
The Du Clan's true aim was Beishan Bay—their ancestral land.
Even if everything else fell… that, they would not give.
"Brother Yuanming," Dong He said with a laugh, eyeing the Ye from afar, "you've certainly stirred the hornet's nest."
Du Yuanming chuckled. "If no one resents you, you haven't achieved enough. The battlefield and the marketplace share one truth: losers complain. Winners conquer."
Dong He roared with laughter. "With Lu Feng behind you and all your channels locked down, who could even fight back?"
Lu Feng—the mysterious, prodigious disciple of Master Mu, and rumored to be his illegitimate son. With him aligned to the Du Clan, Ye's downfall seemed inevitable.
"Our arrangement is simple," Du Yuanming added, his voice laced with cold intent. "Lu Gongzi wants Beishan Bay. We help him get it. In return, he binds his fortune to ours for the next thirty years."
The implications were clear. Power. Dominance. Permanence.
"And with geniuses like Du Hanyue," said Zhou Wu, stepping forward, "the Ye Clan doesn't stand a chance."
Zhou Wu's connection to Lu Feng ensured his loyalty. His words were not idle—they were a blade.
Du Yuanming raised his voice, looking straight at Ye Zhengqing. "Ye brother! You seem to have aged in the last three months! Are you sure your body can still handle this burden? If you fall, your clan will be left to starve in the streets!"
The sound of his voice—laced with Seven-Star force—rolled across the field like thunder. The weaker members of the surrounding clans staggered under its weight.
So this was the true pressure of a Condensed Yuan Seven-Star master…
Behind Ye Zhengqing, several Ye family members paled. Even protected by their patriarch's aura, they could barely stand.
But Ye Zhengqing remained unmoved, his own power pushing outward like a calm mountain resisting a flood.
"Du Yuanming," he replied evenly, "I've seen many rise and fall in my lifetime. Most of them, louder than you. All dead. Yet here I remain."
The calmness in his voice cut deeper than any shout.
And in the corner, Ye Wei struggled to breathe. Even beneath his grandfather's protection, the oppressive force threatened to crush him.
His mind reeled. His Sea of Consciousness trembled.
Too weak. He was still too weak.
But he clenched his fists tighter. No. I won't bow. If my family won't yield, neither will I.
Inside him, something stirred.
His will—unyielding, defiant—began to glow in the depths of his soul. And from that light, power awakened.
He saw it. The divine mountain. The spark of golden light within his sea of awareness.
Boom!
His mind exploded in pain, but it was pain laced with rebirth. His consciousness expanded. Vital energy surged through his meridians. Muscles grew stronger, bones more solid.
He had advanced. From Two-Star to Three-Star Apprentice.
Breathless, stunned, Ye Wei could scarcely believe it. What would have taken months—perhaps years—had happened in moments.
A blessing in disguise, beneath the pressure of annihilation.
Others might falter under such force, but Ye Wei's path was different. He possessed divine comprehension. Once he became a Seven-Star Apprentice, he could begin refining and creating true Divine Arts.
That would change everything.
But the road ahead was long. The only way forward… was up.
And the Ye Clan had no time left to wait.