Peace Order
Chapter 408 - 172: The Promise of the World!

Chapter 408: Chapter 172: The Promise of the World!

When the Regent King appeared, the entire grand sacrificial ceremony had already spiraled out of control. The legends of the Regent King were only from a decade ago, with many commoners still remembering this man, remembering how he had razed the temples of Chen Country to the ground, remembering his invincible troops.

They remembered how he had killed the Emperor in the Imperial Palace.

Prince of Ying, Jiang Gao, stared intently at the man riding an old horse, approaching step by step.

The no longer young elder swept his gaze across, as authoritative as a blade. Even Jiang Gao, Jiang Yuan, who were the most outstanding of the younger generation, still felt an indescribable oppression at this moment, almost as if they were in the presence of their own father.

The Regent King of Chen Country.

His hand tightened unconsciously, firmly pressing down on the armrest of his seat.

Suddenly, the sound of Armor could be heard.

That intense oppressiveness vanished.

The fifth-ranked General of the world, Yuwen Lie, had already stood up. This supreme Divine General extended his hand, and the White Tiger Dharma Form materialized behind him, infused with a strong will to fight, to kill, the flow of Inner Qi making its presence clear for all to see.

He reached out his hand, and as the White Tiger Dharma Form converged, his hand grew heavy with the weight of the heavy spear he now held.

In the era when the Regent King dominated the world, Yuwen Lie was just the age of these young people today; he had truly witnessed the peak of those great heroes, so naturally, he also displayed his own strength.

He stood in front of Jiang Gao and Jiang Yuan, his eyes firmly fixed on the man wearing Mo Armor.

"Indeed," he whispered softly, "Prince Puyang."

"Such a brazen man would not die in his sickbed," he said.

Jiang Gao heard that, feeling the surge of emotion in the voice of this normally calm, dominating, and coldly tactical General, as if seeing him brought back the image of Yuwen Lie as a spirited young General.

He raised his spear, guarding in front of Jiang Gao and Jiang Yuan.

Then he instinctively looked towards the companion of Prince Puyang.

He did not see that young and valiant General who charged at the forefront anymore.

Yuwen Lie recalled the Taiping Duke from his memories, exuberant at their first meeting, when the Taiping Duke had not yet worn the dark gold face mask or ridden a Qilin but was just a young Cavalryman bearing the flag and charging into battle under the command of Prince Puyang, so vibrant and full of spirit.

Yuwen Lie opened his eyes: "We are no longer young, Li Wanli," he said.

Gazing at Prince Puyang, he sensed a hero’s boldness on the old man’s frame, yet a kind of indescribable loneliness. He spoke softly, "The Qilin of the chaotic world is dead. Now, only the limping Wolf King remains, the cruelty of time, truly unimaginable."

The living Buddha closed his eyes, his face showing a flicker of sorrow.

None dared to stand in front of Prince Puyang.

He was the elder brother of Chen Dingye.

He was given a seemingly weak name, Fubi, but later he crushed the name gifted by his father, and everyone fell silent, only the imperial guard kept gathering, standing in front of the Emperor.

And just then, people heard the clear sound of Weapons, as the Crown Prince wearing court dress, Chen Wenmian, holding a spear, walked with large strides toward them.

Chen Wenmian raised his War Spear, pointing it at the man before him, riding a warhorse, no longer young.

The young Crown Prince shouted:

"Halt!"

The Regent King’s mount stopped.

The Regent King looked at this young man with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, and he smiled before dismounting:

"Crown Prince, Chen Wenmian."

"You, you are my son."

Chen Wenmian’s frame stiffened, before he rebuked loudly, "Hold your tongue, what are you saying?!!!"

The Regent King’s cloak billowed as the crippled old man walked step by step, lurching as he moved, and he said, "You are my son. That year, your so-called ’father emperor’ got me drunk, sent me into his wife’s palace, and then you were born."

"Otherwise, look at you, and look at him."

"Has he ever been fit to be your father?!"

This proclamation sent shockwaves through the crowd, with faces showing panic, excitement, and rage at what this would mean for the furious Emperor; Chen Wenmian, holding his spear, turned to the Emperor, his eyes filled with longing and elation.

But all he could see beneath the twelve crowns was Chen Dingye’s cold and profound gaze.

The Regent King spread his arms, embracing his son. The spear could not thrust forth; Chen Wenmian was held in the Regent King’s embrace, against his broad chest, his firm back, without the slightest concealment, Chen Wenmian’s thoughts stalled.

The pain of his mother, her self-immolation, the Emperor’s reaction, everything seemed to link together, finally culminating in the embrace of the Regent King. Chen Dingye shouted, "Kill him!"

"His Martial Arts have been crippled by Li Wanli!"

"You, kill him, kill him!"

"Just one thrust and you are my son, the nation’s Crown Prince!"

The Regent King still showed no guard against attack

Chen Wenmian raised his spear, but at last, it gradually fell, and it seemed he had finally surrendered to the whirlpool of the chaotic era, his spear dropping to the ground, the fine weapon clashing against the stone, ringing clear.

In a struggle against himself, in longing for family affection, or perhaps in hatred for the Emperor, to avenge his mother

Chen Wenmian hesitated, gradually reaching out and grabbing the Regent King’s cloak.

Chen Dingye gripped his sword, his imposing aura ascending. The Emperor’s True Skills of Chen were also unparalleled, and at his age, his realm was not low from practicing relentlessly, ignoring all else. He bellowed, "Rebel, you have returned, isn’t it for the imperial throne?!"