The air in the courtyard grew still as the Fourteenth Prince turned toward Mark. "I've heard about you," he said coldly. "The grandson of the traitor, Lan Gengxin. The one blessed by both the Phoenix and the Blizzard Pegasus. Heard that you are as strong as experts above your cultivation realm. I want to see whether those rumors are true or not. Care to spar with me?"

Mark looked at him, blinking slowly. 'Was this guy serious?'

In what universe did it make sense to throw a challenge at someone the moment you met them?

He studied the prince for a second—ornate imperial robes, a polished longsword strapped to his waist, and a smug confidence that screamed: I've never lost in my life. Mark's brows rose, finding it awfully familiar. He faced such people on his home planet. 'Regardless of whether one is a mortal or an immortal, lower or higher world, something just doesn't change.' He thought.

Right then, he glanced at Lan Xia, whose lips twitched slightly.

'Don't tell me it's about her?' Mark realized. 'Of course it is. These people really live in ancient times, don't they? Just walking around challenging people like it's a sport.'

Just as Mark was wondering how to respond to this challenge, Lan Xia stepped forward, folding her arms and staring the prince down. "Don't fight my fiancé, Your Highness. You're not a match for him."

The Fourteenth Prince flinched as if slapped. His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. "What did you say? Are you saying he is a match for me? A first-stage transcendent who is near to the second stage?"

"My husband is just a Transcendent, yes," Lan Xia replied casually. "And you're a First Stage Transcendent. But honestly? You wouldn't even bring out a tenth of his strength."

A hush fell over the courtyard.

The prince's face darkened with shame and fury. His eyes darted toward Mark, burning with bruised pride.

"You…" he spat. "Come and fight me. Right now!"

Lan Xia gave Mark a pat on the arm and stepped aside, murmuring but not in a low tone either. "Don't kill him, though. The Emperor is going to be all mad. This fellow is worthless, but he had his father as backing."

"Lan Xia…" The Prince's face reddened, feeling insulted by her remark. The killing intent suddenly flared in his eyes.

Mark turned to her with a side glare, catching the mischievous smirk she was trying very hard to hide. 'You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?'

With a heavy sigh, Mark cracked his neck and walked past the prince without even acknowledging him. "Alright," he said. "Let's go to the training grounds. Might as well stretch a little before breakfast."

The prince bristled at the casual tone, following him in seething silence. Lan Xia followed behind, her hands clasped behind her back, and a bounce in her step.

*

The training ground was soon surrounded by disciples, elders, and curious onlookers.

The moment word got out that the Fourteenth Prince of the Heavenly Ocean Empire had challenged someone to a duel—and that someone was Lan Zhen—the sect buzzed like a stirred beehive.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Why was the Prince challenging this Devil?"

"But he's just a newly promoted Transcendent, isn't he?" "Seriously? Didn't you know about him or something? When he was only an ascendant, he defeated the transcendant and dared to offend even a grand elder. And now, he is a transcendant."

"Look at him… he's so calm."

"Pity the prince. Doesn't know what he's walking into."

"But Lan Zhen will not kill the prince, right?"

"Considering his personality, he might just do that and spark a war with the imperial family."

"I don't think a war will emerge. It's not like his opponent is the fifth prince or something. He isn't that important in the court."

"I heard that he is the brother of the seventeenth prince." "Oh, that trash? He was beaten to death by Lan Zhen."

Those murmurs reached the Fourteenth Prince's ears, and each word stabbed at his pride like tiny needles. His face turned redder by the second. He drew his gleaming longsword in one smooth motion and pointed it at Mark.

"I won't hold back!" he snapped, his voice sharp as the blade he held.

Mark stood on the opposite side, hands tucked in his sleeves, looking almost bored. "You already said that. Five times." Since the other party has already established enmity, He thought he might as well go all the way. Luckily, this will fall in line with his plans, but will come at an earlier date.

Soon, an elder, willing to be a proctor of this match, glanced at both and then raised his hand.

"Begin!"

The prince struck instantly. His figure blurred, wind splitting behind him as he closed the distance with a burst of speed. He slashed down vertically, sending a sharp arc of wind blade straight at Mark's chest.

But Mark stepped aside casually, the blade cutting only air. It entirely missed him.

CLANG!

The prince spun mid-air and brought down his sword again in a sweeping arc. Mark leaned backward, barely an inch between the blade and his nose.

He continued with a rapid flurry—slashes from both sides, thrusts aimed at Mark's throat, knees, and ribs.

Mark didn't raise a hand in retaliation. Instead, he glided between strikes with minimal movement, weaving and slipping around each one like water flowing through cracks.

The spectators' eyes widened. There was an eerie silence in the surroundings.

"Azure Fang Slash!" the prince roared, his blade glowing blue before releasing a five-meter wave of compressed Qi straight at Mark.

Mark sidestepped, letting the attack slice through a stone pillar behind him.

"Sky Breaker Barrage!" This time, the prince leapt into the air, his sword breaking into dozens of glowing afterimages as he hurled down a storm of strikes like falling meteors.

Mark stepped back. One, two, three...

Each footwork movement was precise, calm, and economical. He turned his body just enough for the attacks to pass him by.

Not a single one touched his robes.

The prince landed, panting, sweat forming at his temples.

"Fight me, damn you!" he shouted. "Stop running like a coward!"

Mark raised a brow. "Running? You're the one swinging wildly like a toddler with a stick."

The crowd snorted in laughter. Some even clapped discreetly. The prince's face darkened further.

"Ocean Dragon Descent!"

A giant serpent-shaped wave of ether burst from his blade and came crashing down toward Mark with ferocious momentum.

Mark exhaled slowly.

He leaned forward and vanished.

"Wha—?!"

Before the prince could react, Mark reappeared a few feet away, walking in a slow circle around him.

"I'm giving you a chance," Mark said coolly. "Admit defeat and we will act as if nothing happened."

The prince clenched his fists. His aura surged, a sharp sea-blue wind bursting from his body. "Chance? You are just a fuc*er who knows how to dodge and hide behind a woman. You lack the guts to face me like a man."

Mark stood there, tilting his head ever so slightly at the comment. The wind struck his body, but he didn't move a bit. "Fine."

Just as the prince charged forward to attack, with a flick of his wrist, Mark drew a sleek weapon from his inventory, the adamantine Desert Eagle.

Before the prince could register what it was…

BANG!

A sharp crack echoed across the training ground.

A spray of blood burst from the prince's thigh. He staggered backward, collapsing onto one knee with a grunt of pain as the adamantine bullet pierced his body.

"What?" he gasped, grabbing at his leg, feeling heavy all of a sudden, and healing powers restricting. "What did you do?"

Mark cocked the gun again with one hand, raising it lazily. "This?" he said, voice almost playful. "The same thing I did to your brother."

BANG!

Another shot—this time hitting the prince square in the shoulder. *Graaaa* He screamed, falling back, face twisted in disbelief and pain.

BANG!

A bullet tore through the prince's palm.

BANG!

One grazed his ankle, spraying blood again.

Mark didn't walk closer. He stood calmly, loading adamantine shots with practiced ease and pulling the trigger without blinking—each one deliberate, each one cruelly placed.

He wasn't striking at the prince's vitals at all.

Mark simply started toying with him around as if he were torturing him. The entire place was filled only with the prince's screams in agony.

Some spectators gasped. Some turned pale. Lan Xia stood quietly in the crowd, eyes unreadable but lips curved ever so slightly. She seemed to be the only one enjoying it.

"Stop this madness!" a voice rang out.

An elder suddenly flew down from the spectator gallery, robes fluttering. His aura burst out—a First Stage Transcendent like the prince—firm and imposing. His name was Elder Wei Zhen, guardian of the internal law enforcement division.

"That's enough, Lan Zhen," he barked. "He's a prince of the Heavenly Ocean Empire! Are you trying to court death?!"

Mark turned to him slowly.