Chapter 46: The Final General Encounter – Young Master Ning Chuan’s Unforeseen Visitors

Across the expanse of the Nine Mysterious Realms, chaos ensued due to Ning Chuan’s reshuffled ranking list. While the Iron family and figures like the six-fingered piano demon Wen Yuge and the shapeshifting thief Sheng Bai Xiaohang held their places, numerous other formidable contenders flocked towards the Seven Blessings Inn. However, before even three days had elapsed, well before Ning Chuan’s intended storytelling, hordes of figures from the realm of cultivation had converged upon Lin’an City.

Even the esteemed Heavenly Saint Palace had dispatched envoys, eager to glean information and perhaps recruit Iron Mountain, who still lingered outside the sect. The entire Nine Profound Realm was now a bustling hive of activity, more vibrant and alive than ever before.

Meanwhile, within Lin’an City at the Seven Blessings Inn, Ning Chuan, the catalyst behind all this, slowly awakened from his slumber.

“The Hundred Clans Battlefield is truly enigmatic. Not only do diverse adversaries abound within, but even death proves to be a temporary setback, allowing combatants to swiftly resurrect and rejoin the fray,” mused Ning Chuan, his spirits high, his eyes gleaming with newfound understanding.

He had engaged in an all-night battle within the Hundred Clans Battlefield the previous night, tallying an impressive count of thirty-nine King Realm powerhouses vanquished while meeting his own demise once. However, as his combat proficiency and prowess improved, subsequent fatalities were staved off, a testament to his growing skill.

Ning Chuan reflected on his battles, supported by his supreme bone and twin pupils, and empowered by techniques like Suan Ni Baoshu and the divine God’s Hand. He had dominated the field, decimating those in the king’s realm with ease. Only the absence of Extreme Emperor Realm powerhouses left him yearning for a higher challenge, and he contemplated whether his blade’s will could slice through the barriers of the Emperor Realm.

Following his morning routine of dressing and ablutions, Ning Chuan descended the stairs to a clamor emanating from below.

“Summon Ning Chuan at once!”

“If this storyteller entertains me, I’ll reward him handsomely, perhaps a thousand coins!”

“What’s that? Money? I’ve got plenty!”

A cacophony of voices, reminiscent of ducks quacking, filled the air, accompanied by the clatter of something heavy striking a table.

Puzzled, Ning Chuan turned his gaze towards the source of the commotion. There, a flamboyantly-dressed young master, flanked by his attendants, lounged on a chair, a hefty sword by his side. He continued to heap coins onto a table, seemingly oblivious to the amused smirks of onlookers.

Bestow money? Could this scant offering entice Ning Chuan to regale tales within the hallowed halls of the Seven Blessings Inn?

The inn’s patrons, mainly regulars, had gathered here, familiar with Ning Chuan’s storytelling proclivities. Even sans reward, he would spin a yarn from start to finish, without exception. Moreover, for this close-knit community, Ning Chuan had secured their respect. One time, a prominent family from Fu Cheng had offered a million gold taels, yet his demeanor remained unperturbed.

Ning Chuan had never sought undue gain; rather, he only accepted what was justly his. This virtuous trait earned him high regard among his listeners.

On the inn’s second floor, Ning Chuan’s attention shifted. “Miss Blue isn’t present today?”

Ning Chuan stroked his chin, not overly concerned. Such situations were commonplace, previously managed by Yu Fu and then, Miss Lan. However, relying solely on Miss Lan for every issue wasn’t prudent.

Resuming his journey downstairs, Ning Chuan was greeted by familiar faces.

“Mr. Ning, good morning!”

“Shall we go fishing this afternoon, Mr. Ning?”

“Ning Chuan, my son has procured some excellent tea. Care to partake?”

These well-wishers received warm nods and smiles from Ning Chuan, an exchange indicative of long standing friendships.

“You must be Ning Chuan,” chimed the flamboyant young master, scrutinizing him with a perusing gaze before tossing a challenge.

“Observe the pile of silver taels. Entertain me with a tale today, and if I’m pleased, the entire amount shall be yours!”

Ning Chuan, with grace, addressed the young master. “My apologies, young master. If you’re seeking a tale, I encourage your presence in a couple of days when I’m scheduled to perform. Presently, it’s my personal time for rest. I trust you’ll comprehend, sir.”

“So, you’re unwilling to comply?” The young master’s brow furrowed, and he motioned dismissively. “Well then, servants, teach him a lesson!”

The young master’s entourage of robust servants, brandishing sticks, locked their sights on Ning Chuan.

Observing this unfold, Ning Chuan shook his head, bemused. He recognized these challengers as mere mortals, lacking the caliber to arouse genuine concern. Yet, before he could employ his subtle tricks, a thunderous tremor rocked the establishment.

Thud! Thud!

The earth quaked as if an army advanced. Simultaneously, tables vibrated, upending numerous drinks.

And then, they arrived.

A hundred soldiers clad in resplendent golden armor, wielding mammoth spears, exuding an aura akin to savage beasts, marched with synchronized precision towards the inn. The ground shuddered as the groundswell intensified, causing startled cries and frantic retreats. Even the most haughty cultivators, determined to flaunt their prowess, were effortlessly swept aside by this legion of golden-clad warriors.

Within the Seven Blessings Inn, stunned patrons gaped in astonishment as the soldiers advanced.

Who were they? Why would Cloud State boast such formidable warriors? Whose command did they heed?

The young master, formerly brimming with arrogance, stood stupefied, faced with a force that could effortlessly annihilate him. Even his hulking attendants quivered, immobilized by fear.

Boom.

Without hindrance, a hundred resplendent warriors streamed into the inn. The foremost figure, emanating a fearsome aura akin to a beast, knelt before Ning Chuan.

“Chu Xiu Hong, the last general, commander of the golden-armored warriors, pays respects to the young master!”

The remaining ninety-nine warriors swiftly followed suit, genuflecting towards Ning Chuan in unison.

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