Elder Wei's voice was not loud, yet it was like the tolling of a temple bell in the dead of night—resonant, powerful, and piercing the ears of everyone present. "That object... does not belong to your Divine Weapon Pavilion."
In an instant, the great hall, which had been buzzing with astonishment, fell deathly silent. Even the sound of breathing seemed to grow cautious. Hundreds of pairs of eyes—from the proud disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect and the somber men of the Black Dragon Stronghold to the elders of great clans—simultaneously converged upon the secluded corner. There stood an old man in a dark azure long robe and a youth in indigo cloth. No one knew who they were, but those words were nothing less than a heaven-shaking slap to the face, a blatant provocation directed at the prestige of the entire Divine Weapon Pavilion.
On the high platform, the smug smile on Lu Nhat Thiet's face stiffened. The arrogance in his eyes was swiftly replaced by a frigid rage. He slowly turned around, his upturned sword-brows furrowing tightly as his knife-like gaze shot toward Elder Wei.
"Old man, who are you?" Lu Nhat Thiet spoke through gritted teeth. His Foundation Establishment cultivation was no longer concealed, erupting into an invisible pressure that bore down upon the hall. "Do you know where you are? To speak such nonsense at my Divine Weapon Pavilion's Treasure Auction Assembly... do you have a death wish?"
The powerful pressure made it difficult for the low-level cultivators sitting nearby to breathe. Yet, Elder Wei remained utterly unaffected. He stood as straight as a pine tree atop a mountain peak, his clear eyes meeting Lu Nhat Thiet's murderous gaze head-on.
"Who I am is not important," Elder Wei said, his voice remaining calm. "What matters is that the object in your hand is no 'Array-Breaking Divine Stele'. It has its own name. It is the relic of a Lac Viet predecessor, a fragment of a magnificent legacy that has been forgotten."
"The Lac Viet legacy?" Lu Nhat Thiet sneered, a look of pure contempt on his face. "That era passed long ago! This is the era of spiritual energy and magical treasures! What value do those ancient things have? Furthermore, you claim it does not belong to my Pavilion—where is your proof?"
"Proof?" Elder Wei smiled faintly, a smile tinged with the sorrow of history. "The proof lies in its story. A story that your Divine Weapon Pavilion has spent a hundred years trying to suppress."
He no longer looked at Lu Nhat Thiet but turned to face the entire hall, raising his voice. "Fellow Daoists, many of you have likely heard the name Lu Thien Cong, the grandfather of Pavilion Master Lu and the founder of this Divine Weapon Pavilion. The world knows him as a genius of artifact forging, but few know that his career was built upon a shameful deception."
"Silence!" Lu Nhat Thiet roared, his killing intent exploding. "You dare insult my grandfather? Die!"
But Elder Wei was undeterred and continued his tale. "One hundred and three years ago, a final descendant of an ancient Lac Viet bloodline named Tran Tin wandered into Azure Province City. His family fortunes had dwindled, leaving him with only a single ancestral relic: this metal fragment. Ignorant of its value, he brought it to the Divine Weapon Pavilion—which was then but a small smithy—to seek Lu Thien Cong's appraisal."
"Lu Thien Cong, with the discerning eye of an artifact refiner, immediately recognized the extraordinary nature of the array inscriptions upon it. But greed clouded his reason. He lied to Tran Tin, claiming it was mere scrap copper, and used a despicable ploy to 'buy' it for ten taels of silver. Trusting the wrong man, Mister Tran Tin surrendered his ancestral national treasure. Later, upon discovering the truth, he returned to demand it back, only to be brutally beaten by Lu Thien Cong's men and cast into the street. In the end, Mister Tran Tin died of indignation in a small alleyway on a rainy night."
Elder Wei's story lacked dramatic flair, yet it carried a weight that forced the entire hall into a somber silence. Every gaze turned toward Lu Nhat Thiet, shifting from curiosity to suspicion.
"Lies! Utter fabrications!" Lu Nhat Thiet was shaking with rage. "My grandfather obtained it fair and square! Old man, you slander my Divine Weapon Pavilion—what is your ultimate goal?"
"My goal?" Elder Wei looked him straight in the eye. "My goal is simple. Today, I have come on behalf of Mister Tran Tin to collect this century-old debt. To take back what... never belonged to you."
The atmosphere in the hall felt as if it were about to explode. This was no longer an auction; it had turned into a public debt collection. The handsome youth representing the Azure Cloud Sect frowned slightly, a glimmer of interest in his eyes. The men from the Black Dragon Stronghold smirked, the gloating smile of those who enjoy a good drama.
"Hahaha!" Lu Nhat Thiet suddenly burst into a wild, frenzied laughter. "Take it back? With what? With your mouth? Or with this brat in the early Qi Guiding Realm following you?" He pointed at Tran Kien, his eyes full of disdain. Tran Kien had remained silent from the beginning, but when singled out, he merely raised his head. He met Lu Nhat Thiet's gaze with a calm, fearless composure.
"Pavilion Master Lu," Elder Wei spoke, cutting through the laughter. "I know you will not admit it. Nor do I need you to. We shall not use force, nor shall we waste time in argument. Let us use this very 'treasure' to determine truth from falsehood, right from wrong."
"What do you mean?" Lu Nhat Thiet narrowed his eyes.
"It is simple," Elder Wei's voice resonated through the hall. "You call it the 'Array-Breaking Divine Stele' and claim it can shatter any formation. Very well. Let your Divine Weapon Pavilion use it to break our array. If you succeed, my story shall be deemed a fabrication, and I will cripple my own cultivation here to atone for my offense. However..." He paused, his gaze becoming as sharp as a sword. "If you cannot break it, then it proves you understand nothing of its nature. One who does not understand has no right to possess it. You must return it to the descendant of the Lac Viet!"
A challenge! A heaven-shaking gamble, staking the century-old honor of the Divine Weapon Pavilion and his own life! The entire hall erupted in shock. Is this old man insane? He dares use an array to go against a wondrous artifact capable of breaking formations?
Lu Nhat Thiet was momentarily stunned, then barked out a laugh. He laughed as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world. "Fine! Excellent! You senile old fool! You are seeking your own destruction, do not blame me! I accept your challenge! Right here, before all these fellow Daoists, I shall use this 'Array-Breaking Divine Stele' to crush your pathetic array into dust. Let us see if you still have the face to remain among the living!"
Blinded by arrogance and fury, he had fallen straight into the psychological trap Elder Wei had set. Elder Wei said nothing more. He simply turned and looked at Tran Kien, his gaze filled with absolute trust. "Little Kien, this stage belongs to you."
Tran Kien took a deep breath. He stepped out, standing in the center of the vast hall. He did not look at Lu Nhat Thiet, nor at the metal fragment on the stage. He simply closed his eyes. In his mind, the images of the Summary of the Hundred Viet Array Formations and his insights into the Grand Array of Lac Viet's Heavenly Cycle appeared with crystal clarity. The Primal Chaos Qi within his body began to circulate. He knew this was not just a battle for a treasure. This was a battle for the honor of his ancestors.
And he absolutely could not lose.