Chapter Twenty-Six: Ruthlessness

“Qin Shi, why are you still standing there in a daze? Hit him! Let that arrogant fool taste the might of the Chen family!”
“Damn it, Qin Shi, get up there already!”
“Hey, you up there—Chen Long, if you have the guts, come down and fight me with everything you’ve got!”

Even the Qin family couldn’t stomach Chen Long’s arrogance, and the Zhangs too found him insufferably brazen. Truth be told, so did many among the Chens; Chen Long had gone too far, and though he was imposing, he had single-handedly tarnished the family's reputation.

“Tch, what a disgrace the Chen family’s become. The girl comes knocking to break off an engagement, and not one of you dares speak up—only a good-for-nothing steps forward. And now, another puffed-up peacock emerges, acting as if he owns the place. Pathetic!” jeered a Zhang family wastrel, stirring the embers with relish.

That was all it took to ignite the powder keg. The Chens erupted in fury.
“Damn you, who the hell are you? Is it your turn to talk?”
“It was that worthless Chen Bo’s incompetence that led to the broken engagement. What’s it got to do with the whole Chen family? Want a fight?”
“From this day forth, we are at odds with the Zhangs and the Qins!”

The Zhangs shot back, “What are you going to do about it? If you’ve got the guts, come and fight! We only came here annoyed with Chen Long, but now the whole Chen family rubs us the wrong way.”
“That’s right! When the Myriad Sword Sect showed up, even their weakest had more backbone than your lot. Incredible!”
“Indeed. That’s something our Zhang family could never stoop to.”

“Enough! Silence!”
A thunderous voice rang out, making everyone present tense involuntarily. Among the mentors from Sunward Academy, one glared coldly around, his face dark as thunder.
“What do you all think you’re doing? Today is Sunward Academy’s recruitment day. If anyone dares cause trouble, don’t blame us for being merciless!”

Sunward Academy’s authority was overwhelming here; the crowd instantly fell silent, though the young men of all three families continued to glare daggers at one another.

To Chen Bo, the scene was oddly familiar—like a classic skit he’d once watched, where two gangs, bottles in hand, hurled insults at each other.
“What are you looking at?”
“I’m looking at you, so what?”
“Try looking again!”
“Gladly, let’s see what happens!”

The memory almost made Chen Bo laugh aloud; the situation was so absurdly seamless, it was as if he’d stepped into that very farce.

On the arena stage, Qin Shi could delay no longer. He took a deep breath—he couldn’t afford to lose, or he’d miss his last chance at Sunward Academy’s entrance trials.
There were strict age limits: only those over thirteen and under eighteen could apply. Qin Shi was already seventeen; next year, he’d be ineligible.
As for hiding his identity? He’d already fought in four recruitment tournaments—Sunward Academy had him pegged as one of their “Iron-Willed Contenders.” His face might change, but his name was known.
This was his fourth year—he’d fought hard for this.

He raised his steel blade and roared, stomping the ground before charging at Chen Long with blinding speed—so fast that to the ordinary eye, he was but a blur.

Chen Long merely sneered. As Qin Shi’s blade slashed down, Chen Long’s right hand snapped out like an eagle’s claw, seizing the spine of the blade with inhuman speed.
The strike was effortlessly stopped, but Qin Shi did not panic—this had only been a test. With a twist of his wrist, a strange force spun the blade, knocking Chen Long’s hand aside. He quickly retreated several paces, putting distance between them.

“Oh? Not bad,” Chen Long commented, folding his hands behind his back in mock admiration.

Chen Bo found the gesture almost laughable. Had it been a middle-aged man or an elder, the pose would have looked dignified, even mysterious. But Chen Long, a boy of fifteen or sixteen, only looked pretentious and out of place. As the saying goes, the cat was so poorly drawn it turned into a dog.

Qin Shi bit his lower lip. Chen Long’s strength far exceeded his expectations. Even that probing attack had been at sixty percent power, yet Chen Long had caught it as if it were nothing.

But Chen Long had no intention of ending the fight quickly. He wanted to toy with Qin Shi a little, amuse himself.

“Die!” With a sudden shout, Qin Shi swept his steel blade in a wide arc, slicing the air with an intimidating roar.
The blade was long—its tip nearly reached Chen Long’s abdomen. Yet Chen Long remained utterly unfazed. He simply stretched out his leg and kicked Qin Shi’s hand on the hilt.
The force of the kick was tremendous. A sickening crack rang out as Qin Shi’s face went deathly pale; he screamed and instantly let go of the blade.
Glancing down at his hand, he nearly fainted. His right hand was a bloody ruin, bone showing through torn flesh, the tendons snapped in several places.
His right hand was crippled. What use is a swordsman without his right hand? Fight with his left? It wasn’t as if this world had left-handed swordsmanship.

“You… you crippled my hand! How ruthless you are!” Qin Shi shrieked, the pain and rage overwhelming him until he fainted dead away.
“Heh, what a waste. Can’t even hold your sword—what use is that hand to you?” Chen Long scoffed. “Besides, you haven’t even surrendered yet, and that’s hardly a serious injury. Now it’s my turn.”
Before the referee could declare the match over, Chen Long darted to Qin Shi’s side and kicked again. Qin Shi’s left arm twisted at a right angle, bone piercing the skin as he howled in agony, pain wrenching him back to consciousness.

The brutality of it made nearly everyone present frown, especially the Qin family. If not for the elders barking at them to hold back, they would have already swarmed the stage to avenge Qin Shi.

Suddenly, the Qin family patriarch spoke up, “This is just a contest—surely sportsmanship should prevail. Isn’t this going too far?”
“Patriarch Qin, injuries are inevitable in a duel,” replied the Chen family’s Grand Elder.
“But my clan’s youth was already helpless—yet your Chen family still pressed on! Clearly your so-called righteousness is just a facade!” a Qin family elder spat furiously.

A flash of anger crossed the Grand Elder’s eyes. In truth, he was helpless; he hadn’t expected Chen Long to provoke the Qin family so brazenly. He had no wish to make enemies of them—after all, he was related by marriage; his wife was a Qin.
But Chen Long was his son. How could he not defend him? Yet as an elder, how could he outmaneuver a patriarch?
So, after a moment’s thought, he said, “Patriarch Qin, my son was at fault. In time, the Chen family will offer formal apologies.”

With these words, he had shown deference to the Qin family. As for what he truly thought, only a handful present could guess.
The Chen family patriarch, Chen Zhenhai, frowned deeply, a cold glint in his eye as he looked at the Grand Elder. He knew this elder had long coveted the patriarch’s seat, but like the Second Elder, he had brawn but little cunning.

The Qin patriarch, by contrast, smiled smugly, casting a sidelong glance at Chen Zhenhai. “So this is the true face of the Chen family—I’ve seen enough for today. Hahaha!” he muttered to himself in satisfaction.

As for the fate of Qin Shi, who cared about him now?