These two long days had been filled with unremarkable music and dance. Li Changshou had discovered a new skill: using the Wind-Message Incantation to monitor his surroundings while reading scrolls borrowed from the outer hall of the Dao Treasury Pavilion.
It was rather dull. The true spectacle of the Demon-Quelling Assembly—the treasure giveaway and the sparring matches—was about to begin. Li Changshou had no desire for the Dragon Clan's treasures. While no cultivator turned down magical artifacts, the odds were terrible, and his supposed second-rank Return-to-Void cultivation wouldn't let him compete. More importantly, he sensed a great calamity awaited the Dragon Clan. He wanted no connection to their fate. If he accidentally got entangled, he would blame it entirely on Jiu Wu.
The assembly was nearing its official start. The Heavenly Immortals of the various sects had spent two days negotiating boundaries and treaties with the Dragon Palace. Li Changshou was uninterested.
Jiu Jiu was still struggling with the six-colored puzzle cube, proving that cultivation level had zero correlation with spatial intelligence. It had kept her occupied for two days of sobriety, at least.
Youqin Xuanya had finally taken the hint. After Li Changshou's polite rejection, she stopped approaching him, though she still glanced back every half hour.
Li Changshou was enjoying the tranquility when he felt two sharp, hostile gazes land on him.
He put down his bamboo scroll and focused on the Wind-Message Incantation. In the direction of the stare, he spotted a blurred figure.
Was it an enemy? He had no recollections of causing trouble.
Looking up, he saw a boy standing at the edge of the assembly, a hundred yards away. The boy had small, antler-like horns on his forehead. A young dragon.
The boy's eyes were fixed on Li Changshou. There was a faint blue light in them.
Li Changshou leaned back slightly. The boy's gaze tracked the movement perfectly. The dragon was definitely targeting him.
Was Li Changshou's disguise blown? Impossible. His concealment technique was derived from analyzing countless detection methods and creating a perfect counter-measure. Even a Golden Immortal would struggle to see through it.
*Maybe he just thinks I'm the weakest one here?* Li Changshou reasoned. The dragon boy's lips curved into a confident smirk.
Li Changshou met the boy's gaze calmly. The blue light faded, leaving only the sharp stare of gemstone-blue eyes.
Just as the "ten-second staring contest" law suggested, they should have...
A large red-robed figure stepped in front of the boy. It was the turtle prime minister.
"Your Highness, why are you over here? It's almost time for your entrance!" the turtle said.
*Your Highness?* Li Changshou thought. *The Dragon Prince himself?*
Being targeted by royalty was never good. But why would the prince of the East Sea Dragon Palace single out a seemingly weak Du Xian Sect disciple from hundreds of people?
Li Changshou fell into deep thought, analyzing the causal threads. He considered leaving early, but realized that in this chaotic environment, staying near the sect's Heavenly Immortals was safer. If the Dragon Palace had hidden experts looking to vent their frustration on a minor disciple, he'd be doomed alone.
His plan was simple: if the prince challenged him, he would forfeit immediately, citing his low cultivation. No face, no fight.
On stage, a white-browed turtle immortal riding a golden turtle began reciting the glorious history of the Dragon Clan. Li Changshou tuned it out, but the hostile gaze returned. He deactivated the Wind-Message Incantation and looked directly at the source.
There he was—the young dragon prince.
...
*I, Ao Yi, Second Prince of the East Sea Dragon Palace, must do something significant today.*
Ao Yi stood behind several celestial flood dragon soldiers, his expression calm, waiting for the prime minister to introduce him.
His immortal armor glowed softly, highlighting his youthful, refined features. Everyone knew he was the star of this assembly. Today was his tenth birthday—officially. In reality, he had been conscious inside his egg for over two hundred and thirty years, enduring the "egg movement" phase where he received daily lessons on etiquette, poetry, music, and magic.
For the first century, Ao Yi believed his clan was the supreme race of the Primordial. But one morning, a drunken music teacher had shattered that illusion. The teacher told him the truth: the Dragon Clan was not the strongest. The Sages ruled the heavens; humans ruled the earth.
The Dragon Clan had committed a crime during the Primordial wars, shattering the world and earning eternal punishment. They were forced to inhabit the four seas, their fortune sealed by the Heaven's Way. To atone, their ancestors filled the Sea Eyes—abyssal voids—with their own bodies.
Ao Yi had spent over a century in turmoil. The clan remained delusional, acting out their roles as ancient overlords while living in fear of the Sages. They bullied humans yet dared not fight. His own brother had used petty tricks against the Du Xian Sect instead of issuing a real challenge.
Ao Yi felt disgust. He was a prince, but he was just a puppet to the clan. His mother wanted him to win beautifully to please his father. The prime minister warned him not to hurt anyone.
They didn't understand his plan.
Ao Yi stepped onto the stage, the crowd's attention shifting to him. The turtle prime minister continued his speech, leading up to the sparring match—a "performance" before the official start, meant to show the Dragon Clan's strength to the Du Xian Sect.
Ao Yi knew his true power. Decades of accumulation inside the egg, the Ancestral Dragon's bloodline, and innate divine abilities made him superior to most newly ascended immortals. But today, he wasn't here to show off.
He was here to make a statement.
He looked at the Du Xian Sect delegation. He had already identified the weakest member—the one who looked like he couldn't handle a single blow.
Noble Dragon Clan, you've been slapped twice by the Du Xian Sect and still haven't woken up?
Fine.
Today, Ao Yi, the Second Prince, would lose—fairly and squarely—to the weakest person in the Du Xian delegation.
Is that slap hard enough? Wake up, Dragon Clan! Wake up, my delusional kin!
It's not too late. We must abandon our so-called nobility and find a new path. Let talented dragon youth join the Three Teachings, study human techniques, and master their Dao!
The turtle prime minister announced the sparring match.
Ao Yi took a deep breath and stepped forward, his gaze locking onto the Du Xian Sect's seating area. The crowd followed his lead.
"You," Ao Yi said, raising his right hand to point at the figure he had selected. His voice was young but carried across the arena.
"Engage this prince in a spar."