<h4>Chapter 639: dewielder of the Wang n</h4>


    Curiously, Zhang Lie and the ninth prince encountered no trouble on their way.


    Zhang Lie was a little bored. Were the other eight princes really so easily intimidated that they didn''t dare attack, as the ninth prince had suggested?


    The ninth prince informed Zhang Lie, "We''ll be at the capital after the next city."


    Zhang Lie nodded, then nced all around him. "Are they finally here?"


    The ninth prince frowned. "What''s wrong, Master?"


    Zhang Lie began tough. "They''re finally here. Three—no, four of them."


    The ninth prince suddenly noticed a man in front of them blocking their path forward. He sat on an ornate chair with a greatsword in his hand. "Ninth prince, I''ve waited for you for too long."


    "Wang Jian!"


    Zhang Lie turned to the prince. "Is this man famous?"


    The ninth prince''s face was pale. "He''s Wang Jian, the dewielder of his generation from the Wang n."


    The Wang n was one of the threergest ns of the capital—really, of the entire world. The Wangs were famed for their skill with the de, the Fengs for their skill with the polearm, and the Qians for their money. The Wangs would choose a representative swordsman from each generation to serve as the n''s killer. Wang Jian, who sat before them, was precisely that man.


    Wang Jian turned to Zhang Lie. "I don''t know who you are, and nor do I care. The fight to be the king of the realm isn''t for the likes of you. Leave—I don''t want to sully my de."


    The ninth prince turned to Zhang Lie with surprising urgency. "Flee, Master! The dewielder of the Wang n is peerless in battle!"


    Wang Jian sighed. "Ninth prince, I truly do pity you. You shouldn''t have been born to royalty, or you wouldn''t die here today."


    Zhang Lie shouted, "Come out, all of you! Stop hiding!"


    A gust of wind passed by. Leaves shook, but no person emerged from the surroundings.


    Wang Jian smiled coldly. "I hardly need any support to kill the likes of you."


    "Well, since you''re already here, you might as well stay here." Zhang Lie leapt down from White and brought the ninth prince down from Whiter. Hemanded, "White, you''ll deal with the man from the south. Whiter, from the west. I''ll leave the rest of them to you, Red Comet, and I''ll deal with Wang Jian myself."


    The three lifeforms darted off.


    Wang Jian frowned. "What do you mean?"


    The ninth prince seemed flummoxed. "Master, you—"


    "Let''s get some information out of you, first." Zhang Lie''s eyes glowed with a rainbow gleam, one mirrored in Wang Jian''s gaze.


    "Who sent you over?"


    Wang Jian replied, "I''m the Wang n''s de."


    Zhang Lie frowned. "Which prince controls you?"


    "I''m the Wang n''s de!" Suddenly, the sword in Wang Jian''s hand began to resonate. His eyes shed, and the rainbow gleam dissipated from them. Wang Jian unsheathed his sword, a pitch-ck de on which blood had congealed. The moment he drew that de, his killing intent spiked,bining both his own killing intent and that of his de.


    Zhang Lie was rather surprised by how immense that killing intent felt. Just how many people had that de killed?


    The reason Wang Jian was able to break free from the mistmeld m''spulsion was because of his own mental fortitude and his de. The dualyers of killing intent over Wang Jian''s body were so intense that it materialized as ck smoke, as though a frightening demon were swiping its ws toward Zhang Lie.


    Death to those who betray the Wang n!


    Death to those who make enemies of the Wang n!


    Death to those hostile to the Wang n!


    He was the de of the Wangs, brainwashed to serve them and only them. He was the strongest swordsman of his generation, as well as the strongest assassin.


    Wang Jian didn''t dare take Zhang Lie lightly any longer. Who knew if he would break free of the next mentalpulsion? He had to kill Zhang Lie in one blow.


    "A sword, then?" Zhang Lie murmured to himself. "It''s been a long time since anyone forced me to draw my own de."


    He hadn''t needed to use one ever since entering the third realm, and even for quite a while before that.


    Wang Jian''s sword had ferocious killing intent, but it was indeed a good de.


    Zhang Lie stretched out his middle and index fingers, forming a de with his hand.


    Wang Jian''s face turned cold. Did this opponent think the dewielder of the Wang n would be so easily defeated? "Don''t joke with me."


    The Wang n''s scions developed their dework in the midst of battle; they refined and honed their skills with killing intent. The more enemies they slew, the stronger their skills became.


    As the dewielder of the Wang n, Wang Jian had to have killed over ten thousand men—traitors, spies, the strong, the malicious, the weak, enemies of n and town and kingdom.


    Each man he slew grew his de''s killing intent, and he unleashed all that killing intent now. No one would be able to block the Wang dewielder, not even the famed swordsmen of the capital.


    Wang Jian, named for the de, had been endowed with talent since his birth. At the tender age of ten, he had defeated his instructor in the sword, and he had always won any challenges from members of his generation since. How could his sword, into which he had infused all his energy and strength, be blocked by two small fingers?


    The next moment, Wang Jian''s face grew rmed. When his de touched Zhang Lie''s fingers, his nascent wave of sword energy was nipped in its bud. In its ce, he felt the rming strength of Zhang Lie''s [The Boundless de].


    By then, however, it was toote for Wang Jian.


    So this was a true master of the de…?Wang Jian''s eyes revealed his regret. He didn''t regret provoking Zhang Lie, but rather that he clearly didn''t understand the sword.


    Compared to Zhang Lie''s burgeoning sword energy, his own techniques were nothing. His des meant nothing in the face of this strength; he had wasted fifteen years of youth for naught. Nevertheless, his face was one of unadulterated joy. For a demaster to die to such a blow was undoubtedly a high honor.


    Wang Jian''s body disintegrated in a sh of sword energy, leaving a long, deep scar on the ground like a gully. The ck sword, filled with killing intent, ttered to the ground.


    Zhang Lie nced at the de and tutted to himself. "Refining a de with killing intent is hardly the correct path forward. Such a de will strip your agency and swordsmanship."


    He sighed as he looked at the ground once more, at the ck fog seeping from the de.


    "Well, it''s not like you can hear my words any longer."


    He picked up the de and stored it inside his potbellied-toad pouch.


    The ninth prince trembled as he asked, "Master, did you really kill the dewielder of the Wang n?"


    "Hmm? So what if I did?"


    The ninth prince''s eyes lit up. "Master, you''re far too strong!"


    "It''s too early to be excited. There''s still plenty of trash around to clean up," Zhang Lie advised him.


    The ninth prince seemed confused. With the dewielder of the Wang n dead, what else was there?


    Suddenly, a beam of energy rose into the air, like a glint reflected off the sun. A polearm shot out of the forest, followed quickly behind by a ray of red light...