Chapter 659: The Debut Stage of Star River Dragon Sparrow

Chapter 659: The Debut of Xinghe and Longque

The entire banquet hall was thick with tension, so silent that a pin drop could be heard.

This feast was, of course, a trap—everyone bore ill intent. No hidden assassins were arranged, as such things were utterly useless and might even leak secrets through the chaotic aura of too many people... but the wine was laced with a strange poison, waiting only for the moment it touched the throat.

Yet no one had imagined that he would drink the wine, and the poison would have no effect at all—and that was poison provided by a deity!

Cui Wenwei rose from his seat and retreated, trembling with fear.

Nor had anyone imagined that Zhao Changhe would not even take his seat, too lazy to exchange a few pleasantries, and would directly overturn the table and expose the truth...

This rogue-like demeanor made the Cui family deeply uncomfortable. The most absurd part was that since he knew this was a hostile trap, he still came alone and unarmed! He was clearly here to flip the table from the start.

Not caring about anyone present was one thing, but did he truly not care about the deities?

The silence lingered for a moment, and finally a low voice echoed through the air: "King Zhao is so straightforward; it seems petty of us to hide and dodge."

With the words, a breeze swept by, and a gaunt figure in a cloak and hood appeared before them.

Beneath the hood, his appearance was horrifying, much like a dehydrated corpse.

In truth, any ancient deity who could appear now, aside from spirit forms, was likely a reanimated skeleton. Before full recovery, they would naturally look like dried corpses—a logical assumption. This also proved that the deities had not yet fully healed, which was why they still relied on proxy wars; acting personally could easily lead to trouble, as the Sea Emperor had demonstrated.

Now there was no Xia Longyuan, but their mutual malice was no less than anyone else's.

Yet that did not mean they would truly fear a Zhao Changhe... Even if he had slain a god, it was a fluke. Without Xia Longyuan crippling the Sea Emperor, how could he have fought him? Even if he now had Triple Secret Vaults, that was still not the Imperial Realm—did he truly think he was Xia Longyuan?

Zhao Changhe glanced at him, calmly refilled his own cup of poisoned wine, and took another sip as if nothing was wrong: "Too ugly... but aside from caring about appearance when finding a wife, I, Zhao, do not judge heroes by looks. I offer this cup to you, borrowed flowers for Buddha!"

With that, he casually flicked his wrist, and the wine jug shot straight toward the other.

Cui Wenwei and the other onlookers had initially thought they would at least play supporting roles for half the scene, but they found the play had not even begun before they became mere extras. In the presence of both sides' auras, they had no room to interject, let alone any motivation to act. The Cui family exchanged glances and then voluntarily retreated to the sidelines to watch; some clever ones had already slipped away...

Contrary to the onlookers' expectations, they thought the wine jug was an attack, but it was merely a casual toss. The other caught it smoothly, took a sip, and chuckled: "Zhao Changhe's wine is indeed flavorful."

Zhao Changhe said coolly, "Mutual feeling—without your poison, this wine would lack taste. But as far as I know, in ancient times, aside from the Spirit Clan, there were no deities known for poison. Could you reveal a bit of your identity?"

The man laughed: "An insignificant nobody, lucky to survive—nothing compared to the Sea Emperor you killed, King Zhao."

Zhao Changhe replied, "Stop playing word games. Do you think I'm politely asking for your name?"

The man's smile vanished.

Zhao Changhe said coldly, "It's just that I, Zhao, do not slay nameless foes. When the time comes to tell who was the first killed after Longque's reforging, if I can't give a name, it would be embarrassing—Longque would scold me."

Everyone: "..."

Longque was quite pleased.

"If you won't say, then don't bother! Hiding your head and tail—what kind of deity are you!" Zhao Changhe slammed the table, leaped into the air, and Longque suddenly appeared in his empty hand, slashing down furiously at the man.

Many felt something was off.

In truth, the other was not unwilling to speak; he was just exchanging pleasantries. Zhao Changhe deliberately prevented him from speaking.

Originally, the deity should have been aloof and cold, striking down the reckless Zhao Changhe. The man had likely considered that when he appeared—it would have had presence and intimidated the Cui family as a bonus.

But now the scene was entirely dominated by Zhao Changhe, as if he were the lofty deity, while the other was just a lurking assassin, evading the great man's questions.

If this was Zhao Changhe's deliberate creation... then "momentum" had already merged into his martial arts. His words, actions, and the situation itself were all preparations and reinforcements for "combat."

This was his Triple Secret Vaults—the bloodthirst of a god-slayer, the aura of mountains and rivers—nurturing a momentum that looked down on deities and swept away all!

"Clang!" The other extended a withered hand, blocking the blade with his arm, producing a crisp metallic sound.

Overwhelming force surged through, and Zhao Changhe nearly lost his grip on the blade. His tiger's mouth went numb, and his qi and blood churned wildly.

This was the true Imperial Realm—perhaps not fully restored, but the power was still that of the Imperial Realm. Zhao Changhe was indeed a full level behind, and a critical major one at that.

But he would never show it. He merely flipped back, and before landing, he swept his blade again to prevent pursuit. To onlookers, it seemed like a normal exchange, with him at most slightly at a disadvantage.

Others could not tell, but the opponent could feel it. His iron-like palm slapped aside the sweeping Longque and thrust straight for Zhao Changhe's heart, cackling: "No matter how many schemes you have, your raw strength is lacking. That's all there is to it. My name is nothing to hide—in ancient times, I was called Huangyang. When you meet Yama in the underworld, don't forget."

"Clang!" Longque swept sideways, parrying the heart-seeking strike. Zhao Changhe used the momentum to retreat, laughing loudly: "So it's you! Draining the earth's power to nourish yourself, causing great famine wherever you go. No wonder someone dared to boast about reforging the Four Mountains and Rivers Swords—with you, it barely fits... But you're just a calamity driven away by the Azure Dragon, a defeated general, a rat crossing the street. After an era, you call yourself a deity—you're not worthy!"

No one knew that his knowledge of this fellow came from just a few days ago, when his wife made him copy the Four Symbols scriptures. Before that, he had never even heard the name.

Copying books was indeed the primary source of productivity.

Huangyang was surprised that Zhao Changhe knew so much about him. Having his background exposed before the Cui family was embarrassing. His expression darkened, and he sneered: "I know your abilities now... If I am unworthy, are you worthy? Die!"

"Boom!" The earth suddenly trembled. Boundless earth power burst upward from the ground, surging toward Zhao Changhe's feet. At the same time, Huangyang's hand stretched out like lightning, stabbing at Zhao Changhe's heart.

His Imperial power seemed to be control over the earth's force!

In an instant, the entire banquet hall collapsed. The terrifying pressure forced all the Cui family members to spit blood and scatter in terror.

The earlier exchanges were just probes; this strike was the real deal—the power of a deity, an unbearable weight for mortals!

Zhao Changhe was at the storm's center. How could he resist?

But as he retreated, a smile curled at the corner of his mouth. He flicked his left hand, and a pitch-black divine sword plunged straight into the ground. The trembling, surging earth power was completely suppressed under that thrust, without even a sound. At the same time, Longque swung back, slashing at the edge of Huangyang's extended demonic hand.

Previously, every clash had produced a metallic ring, as if Longque's sharpness could not cut the demonic body. But now, the blade faintly glowed with a bloody light, and this strike cut through like a hot knife through butter, drawing green blood.

The seemingly cataclysmic divine strike was shattered by a single sword and blade, leaving only dust scattering in the air.

Huangyang withdrew his hand in pain, staggering back in shock: "What sword is that!"

"I told you, the sword is called Xinghe, the Night Emperor's blade. A shrimp like you can't understand..." Zhao Changhe brandished Longque and charged again, slashing furiously: "Using an ancient divine sword to bully you is no feat... Watch now how a mortal blade of today compares to antiquity!"

"Bang!" Huangyang slammed heavily against the side of the blade, trying to knock it away as before, but it felt like striking endless desert sand, raising only invisible dust. The blade's residual power was infinite; this slap was like a stone sinking into the sea, unable to shake it at all!

Having slept for an era, Huangyang could not comprehend what was happening with this blade. He urgently retreated.

But the sword stuck in the ground, which had suppressed the earth power, suddenly flew up on its own, stabbing toward his back.

No escape!

He looked up again to see Zhao Changhe, eyes blood-red, leaping through the dust with a furious slash, blotting out the sun and moon above.

This strike scattered gods and Buddhas!

"Clang!" The figure fled into the distance, leaving behind Huangyang's coughing voice: "Godslayer, Asura King... This era's blade, I have learned!"

Zhao Changhe did not pursue. In truth, he was exhausted.

These few strikes seemed simple, but his true strength was no match for the Imperial Realm. It was entirely due to the transcendent power of Xinghe and Longque. Rather than saying he defeated the opponent, it was more that the opponent could not understand the might of these two new divine weapons.

But it did not matter—others could not tell.

Zhao Changhe stood still, forcibly suppressing the blood rising in his throat, and pointed his blade: "Second Master Cui, perhaps you have never understood one thing... I am not here to negotiate with you. This is conquest. Surrender, or be annihilated."