Chapter 152 Fulfilling the Bet

The entire area around the Duel Platform fell into a deathly silence, where one could hear a pin drop.

Everyone's gaze was fixed firmly on the platform. They stared at the handsome young man who held a ridiculous peachwood dagger and looked slightly "pale," yet stood tall and upright, their minds filled with a thousand thoughts.

'Wait... what wager is he fulfilling?'

'Look at Senior Brother Zhao's conflicted and stifled expression; this wager must be quite extraordinary.'

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Senior Brother Zhao finally stammered out: "The Saint... is a total moron."

These five words were like five silent thunderclaps, exploding in everyone's hearts, shaking their Divine Soul and making their scalps tingle.

Zhao Yuan lay on the ground, his whole body cold, as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

He could clearly feel the countless gazes from below the platform, like red-hot branding irons, searing into his body and face.

In those gazes, there was shock, horror, schadenfreude, disbelief, and the excitement of watching a good show.

He could feel the complex and stern gaze of the Referee Elder, and he could feel the cold stares from the shadows or unknown places.

It's over... insulting the Saint in public...

This thought rang like a final funeral bell in his hollow mind.

Not only was his future ruined and he had become a laughingstock, but that sentence he just uttered was enough to offend the Saint to death; he probably wouldn't have a good ending once he went back later.

Zhao Yuan looked toward Heavenly Sword Peak for no reason. He wanted to beg for mercy, wanted to go back on his word, wanted to curl up like a worm and disappear from everyone's sight.

But the invisible shackles of the Sword Heart Oath, along with the pressure of being the center of attention, pinned him firmly in place, making even blinking difficult.

"The... the Saint..." His voice was as weak as a mosquito's, carrying a near-death tremor.

"Hmm?" A demonic voice sounded again, not loud, but terrifyingly clear.

Mu Changge even tilted his head slightly, making a listening gesture. His face remained expressionless, save for a trace of faint, almost cruel mockery deep in his eyes.

"Oh my, Senior Brother Zhao, what did you just say? The wind is a bit strong, and this Junior Brother didn't hear it clearly! I wonder if my fellow Disciples heard it?"

As he spoke, he paused, shifting his gaze from the limp Zhao Yuan. Like an invisible blade, he slowly swept across the deathly silent yet turbulent crowd below the platform, the corners of his mouth curling into a mocking arc as he repeated: "I wonder... did any of my fellow Disciples below hear it just now? Did Senior Brother Zhao shout it or not?"

Hearing this, most of the Disciples twitched their lips, their expressions changing, their eyes darting away. No one wanted to be the one to stick their neck out and get dragged into this whirlpool, which was clearly a death trap.

Just in this suffocating silence, an angry voice suddenly exploded like a giant stone thrown into a calm lake: "Mu Changge! You are presumptuous!"

The crowd parted, and a youth dressed in the attire of a Heavenly Sword Peak Core Disciple, with an arrogant expression, stepped out from the crowd, pointing at Mu Changge on the platform and sternly reprimanding him.

Behind him followed several other Heavenly Sword Peak Disciples who also looked indignant, clearly the Saint's loyal followers.

"Senior Brother Zhao has already been defeated, yet you still dare to be so aggressive, humiliating him, and even forcing him to shout... to shout such treasonous words!"

The arrogant youth's face flushed red, his eyes burning with fury. "Do you still have the Sect in your eyes? Do you still respect hierarchy? How noble is the Saint; is he someone you can insult at will? Hurry up and help Senior Brother Zhao up, and apologize to the Saint!"

Before his voice faded, another slightly effeminate voice rose from another part of the crowd, carrying a touch of hypocritical "advice": "Junior Brother Mu, it is best to be forgiving when one can. Since the wager has been fulfilled... in my opinion, it would be better to stop here."

The speaker was a beardless Disciple with flickering eyes. Judging by his attire, he was a Disciple from the Sect's Law Enforcement department, looking like he was speaking impartially and for the sake of the big picture.

With these two taking the lead, a few sporadic voices of agreement rose from the crowd that had previously been silent as cicadas in winter, mostly Heavenly Sword Peak Disciples or those close to the Saint's faction:

"Exactly! Mu Changge, stop being so arrogant just because you have a bit of strength!"

"Senior Brother Zhao was provoked by your words into making an improper wager; how can that count?"

"Hurry up and stop, and apologize to the Saint!"

"A mere newly promoted Core Disciple, daring to be so wild and arrogant—you truly don't know the immensity of heaven and earth!"

These voices were impassioned, cold, or "righteous," all aimed directly at Mu Changge, attempting to apply moral pressure and salvage the situation, or at least ensure those five words didn't become an established fact.

Most others remained silent, watching coldly, wanting to see how this audacious "winner" would respond.

The Referee Elder frowned, looking at the commotion below the platform, then at Heavenly Sword Peak. His lips moved, but in the end, he remained silent. This matter involved the Saint, and the Sect was not peaceful either, with factional strife; it was no longer something he could easily adjudicate. If he handled it poorly, he would bring trouble upon himself.

Facing the sudden reprimands and "advice" from below, Mu Changge showed no surprise or panic. Instead, he looked as if he had seen something interesting, and the mocking arc at the corner of his mouth deepened.

He turned around leisurely, facing the arrogant youth who had first caused trouble, as well as those who had chimed in.

His gaze calmly swept over their faces, flushed with excitement or "righteous indignation," and finally settled on the arrogant youth. He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet clearly suppressing all the noise: "Oh? Senior Brother, judging by your meaning... the Sword Heart Oath can be treated as child's play?"

"Or are you saying..." Mu Changge's tone shifted, becoming abruptly sharp, his eyes turning cold, "that you are intentionally trying to kill Senior Brother Zhao? So you can inherit his legacy and cut off his path of Dao?"

This series of heart-piercing retorts was like a poison-tipped dagger, stabbing one by one into the hearts of those few troublemakers. It pushed them directly into the moral abyss of plotting against fellow Disciples, disregarding Zhao Yuan's future, and even coveting a fellow Disciple's property.

"You... you are spouting blood!" The arrogant youth was trembling with rage, his face turning from red to purple. He pointed at Mu Changge, his finger shaking, "I... we have absolutely no such intention! I just... I just think you went too far! Senior Brother Zhao, I didn't mean that! I didn't!"

He looked at Zhao Yuan on the ground in a panic, eager to explain, but it only made him look more guilty.

The other Disciples who had spoken up also panicked, their expressions changing, and they hurriedly denied it (no matter how down-and-out Zhao Yuan was, having been defeated, he was still a top-tier existence among the Core Disciples):

"Mu Changge! Stop spouting nonsense!"

"We were just acting out of fellowship, unable to bear seeing Senior Brother Zhao humiliated!"

"Right! We have no other intentions! Senior Brother Zhao, don't listen to his sowing of discord!"

"How could we want to harm you!"

They were eager to clear their names, their tones panicked, their eyes darting away. Under Mu Changge's mocking gaze, which seemed to see through their hearts, they appeared even less confident. Their previous "righteous indignation" now seemed more like an excuse to make trouble and kick someone while they were down.

The crowd below watched this scene with mixed expressions. Some Disciples who had originally disliked the ways of Heavenly Sword Peak secretly felt satisfied; some neutrals frowned, feeling that Mu Changge's words were too vicious, but they did hit on the thoughts of some people; most others watched coldly, their wariness of Mu Changge deepening—this youth was not only eerily strong, but his glib tongue and ability to pierce hearts were even more formidable!

Zhao Yuan, sprawled on the ground, listened to Mu Changge's sarcastic yet heart-piercing words. Looking at the panicked, pale faces of those fellow Disciples who perhaps called him brother on normal days but were now eager to disassociate themselves, an unspeakable sense of sorrow and fury welled up in his heart, diluting his fear and humiliation.

He finally understood that these people jumping out were not really thinking of him at all. They were just taking the opportunity to show loyalty or wanting to watch a bigger spectacle! Today, he had lost all face and would likely become a discarded pawn to the Saint; life at Heavenly Sword Peak would likely be even harder from now on...

Looking at Mu Changge on the side, who had a smile on his face and looked hateful, although his methods were ruthless and he had forced him, at least... it was all out in the open. But the faces of these "fellow Disciples" made him feel inexplicably chilled.

Staying here any longer would only make him look like a clown, repeatedly kneaded and humiliated, spurned and laughed at by everyone! The last bit of hesitation in Zhao Yuan's heart was washed away by endless shame and sorrow. He suddenly raised his head, as if using his last ounce of strength, and roared hoarsely, his voice dry and broken, but carrying a sense of desperate resolution:

"I admit it! I, Zhao Yuan... admit defeat in the wager!"

"The Saint is a total moron!!!"

"The Saint is a total moron!!!"

"The Saint is a total moron!!!"

After shouting three times, he didn't stay any longer. He didn't even bother to pick up the long sword that had fallen aside. He struggled to climb up from the ground, stumbled down the Duel Platform, pushed through the blocking crowd, and like a stray dog, fled wildly into the distance without looking back, soon disappearing from everyone's sight, leaving only a small, glaring pool of blood and that lonely Flying Sword on the ground.

The back view of his escape was full of wretchedness, panic, and despair, without a shred of the bearing of a Heavenly Sword Peak Core Disciple.

The Referee Elder watched Zhao Yuan's retreating figure, then looked at the leisurely Mu Changge on the platform, and the crowd below with their varied expressions. He sighed deeply, knowing this farce should end. He cleared his throat and announced with a voice imbued with spiritual power: "In this battle, Mu Changge is the victor. The wager has been fulfilled. Everyone, disperse!"

Most Disciples, seeing there was no more excitement to watch, immediately scattered like birds and beasts, whispering about the thrilling events just now as they walked. But some remained, looking at the platform with complex gazes.

Those few Disciples who had jumped out to accuse Mu Changge were now pale and green in the face, not knowing whether to leave or stay, extremely embarrassed. The arrogant youth stared fixedly at Mu Changge, his eyes full of venom, almost spitting fire. He took a few deep breaths, suppressing his rage, and squeezed out a cold voice from between his teeth:

"Mu Changge... you are very good! Truly good courage! Good methods!"

He took a step forward, lowering his voice, but loud enough for those nearby to hear clearly, his words filled with undisguised threats: "The last person who was as ignorant of life and death as you, and dared to offend the Saint's majesty, already has grass three feet high on his grave! Even the Family behind him was uprooted by the Saint, with not even a chicken or dog left! You had better behave yourself! Let's go!"

After speaking, he glared fiercely at Mu Changge, then turned and walked away quickly with those few fellow Disciples who also looked terrible, their backs full of malice.

Mu Changge ignored the murderous threat, not even bothering to look at their retreating backs. He bent down leisurely, picked up the long sword left behind by Zhao Yuan and the jade bottle containing the Qianyuan Creation Pill, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint, almost imperceptible arc.

However, just as he was preparing to turn and leave, an extremely obscure, yet bone-chilling gaze, like an invisible Heavenly Eye, locked onto his position from afar.

Mu Changge's steps as he turned paused slightly.

He did not look back, nor did he deliberately search. He just slowly raised his eyelids, his gaze seemingly inadvertently piercing through the bustling, dispersing crowd, crossing layers of halls and pavilions, and casting far away toward the distant, cloud-shrouded Heavenly Sword Peak, in the direction of the Saint's courtyard.

The distance was extremely far, with countless Formations and mountain mist separating them.

But at this moment, Mu Changge clearly felt that somewhere on that peak, a gaze as sharp as a sword and containing monstrous rage and killing intent was piercing through the Void Realm, meeting his line of sight from afar!

There was no sound, no spiritual power fluctuation, not even a ripple. But the two gazes collided and clashed silently in the Void Realm!

On one side, it was calm and deep, carrying a trace of cynical mockery, like an abyss, without ripples, yet capable of swallowing everything.

On the other side, it was bone-chillingly cold, a high-and-mighty condescension, the arrogance of controlling life and death, and that rage suppressed to the extreme, about to erupt.

Time seemed to be infinitely elongated at this moment. The clamor in the distance and the sound of the wind nearby seemed to have faded away.

Mu Changge could even "see" the appearance of the owner of that gaze at this moment—surely his face was as gloomy as water, his eyes sinister, and his whole body exuding monstrous rage.

For a long time.

The arc at the corner of Mu Changge's mouth widened slightly. Facing the direction of that distant peak, he silently and gently opened and closed his lips, forming two clear shapes without making any sound.

But in the distance at Heavenly Sword Peak, in the courtyard where the Saint resided, Jian Wushuang, who was standing by the railing, seemed to clearly "hear" those two words and understood the lip shape.

Those two words were clear and easy to understand, but the meaning was incomparably vulgar and extremely insulting. "Mo-ron."

Immediately after, the mocking, playful expression on Mu Changge's face, as if he were looking at a clown, blossomed without reservation. Then, he stopped paying attention, as if he had just casually glanced at some unimportant scenery. He turned around without hesitation, patted the non-existent dust on his robe, hummed an out-of-tune ditty, and strode away towards Earth Sword Peak with a leisurely and somewhat punchable gait.

At Heavenly Sword Peak, Jian Wushuang stood with his hands behind his back, dressed in white as snow, spotless. His face was like jade, handsome and unparalleled, but at this moment, on that handsome face that could make countless female cultivators swoon, there was no expression, cold and hard as if carved from jade.

He clearly "saw" Mu Changge's final silent lip language, as well as that undisguised, extremely insulting and provocative mocking expression.

"What a piece of trash." A cold voice without a trace of emotion was spat out from Jian Wushuang's mouth, not aimed at Mu Changge, but at Zhao Yuan who had already fled far away and made him lose all face.

"Crack... crack..." A subtle, teeth-grating sound of shattering rang out.

Beside Jian Wushuang's feet, the sturdy ground of the courtyard, inscribed with protective Formations, had spiderweb-like cracks spreading silently with him as the center, instantly covering several zhang in radius.

A piece of supreme-grade spirit crystal, which he had taken out from somewhere, silently turned into the finest powder, sliding down from between his tightly clenched fingers.

The air around him seemed to be frozen, the temperature plummeted, and even the drifting clouds seemed to be stained with a layer of Sword Qi.

"Mu... Chang... ge."

Jian Wushuang slowly spat out this name that had become so familiar recently, his voice terrifyingly calm, as if from the Nine Nether Cold Prison. He looked in the direction where Mu Changge's figure had disappeared, his eyes deep as the starry sky, but now extremely sinister, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, only containing pure, extreme, and tangible killing intent.

"Very good."

"This Saint will personally choose a fine burial place for you."

As the words fell, he turned slowly and stepped into the room.

Beside the courtyard pavilion, a young figure was seated in the pavilion; it was Liu Ming.

"There is no need to keep such trash; dispose of him cleanly." Not long after, Jian Wushuang's calm voice came from the room, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

"Yes, Saint." Liu Ming agreed without hesitation, his face showing no surprise or pity. His figure moved, and he flashed towards the foot of the peak, clearly going to deal with Zhao Yuan.

And in the direction of Earth Sword Peak, Mu Changge's figure had long disappeared at the end of the mountain path, only that out-of-tune ditty seemed to still faintly drift with the wind.