Yvonne Darkmoon frowned as soon as she heard, wondering why the Yang Clan was coming. She secretly worried her earlier abduction might have been exposed, but outwardly she snapped, "What is he here for? Tell him to get lost!"
The guard looked embarrassed, but Damien Darkmoon said to him, "Let him wait downstairs on the first floor. I'll go down now."
"Yes, sir," the guard replied, then went downstairs, leaving Yvonne Darkmoon glaring and asking, "Why let him in?"
"A guest is a guest. You stay here and don't go down, and don't cause trouble," Damien Darkmoon said, then turned and headed downstairs.
Yvonne Darkmoon muttered, "It shouldn't be a problem. No one saw anything linking me to it, even if those people are in my Space Ring!"
Curious about what was happening, Yvonne Darkmoon quietly followed from behind, wanting to see what Damien Darkmoon and Terry Yang would talk about downstairs.
As Damien Darkmoon came downstairs, Terry Yang, who had been sitting, stood up and greeted him with a smile, "Senior Damien."
"No need for formalities. Speak—what do you want?" Damien Darkmoon was clearly displeased; if it weren't for the Yang Clan behind Terry, he would have taught Terry a lesson already.
Terry Yang smiled, "Of course, it's about that matter."
"Which matter? I have no idea what you're talking about," Damien Darkmoon said suspiciously.
"Didn't I already say it? I'm Terry Yang, and I want to propose marriage to Miss Yvonne," Terry Yang said with a smile.
"Propose marriage? My daughter isn't planning on finding a partner yet. I think you should just drop it and go back where you came from," Damien Darkmoon replied.
"Senior Damien, that's not fair. Is Miss Yvonne never going to find a partner? Shouldn't she at least be given a chance? Besides, the Yang Clan excels in every way. If she were with me, she'd definitely be happy. More importantly, I'm the future heir of the Yang Clan—is there anyone more outstanding than me?" Terry Yang said with a smile.
Damien Darkmoon hadn't expected Terry Yang to be the future heir of the Yang Clan, but even after learning this, he wasn't swayed. He knew his daughter's temperament, and besides, Terry had tried to forcibly abduct her before. If she hadn't escaped, who knew if she'd even be alive now? Thinking of this, Damien immediately refused, "Young Lord Terry, this is up to my daughter. If she doesn't agree, there's nothing to be done. So please, you should leave."
Terry Yang knew Yvonne Darkmoon would never agree, and he understood Damien's stance. Still, as the Yang Clan's next heir, he smiled and said, "Since Senior Damien insists, I have nothing more to say. But if, in the future, your daughter is truly willing to follow me, I hope you won't stand in her way."
"If she truly wants that, I won't stop her," Damien Darkmoon replied.
"Good," Terry Yang said with a smile, then left the Darkmoon residence.
Watching Terry Yang's departing smile, Damien Darkmoon felt an ominous premonition. Yvonne Darkmoon quickly ran downstairs and said, "Good thing you didn't agree to him. Otherwise, I'd die right in front of you!"
"Do you really think I'd throw you into a fire pit?" Damien Darkmoon asked Yvonne Darkmoon.
"You never know," Yvonne Darkmoon replied.
"You, you—don't go out for now. Wait until the contest is over before leaving," Damien Darkmoon said, recalling the look Terry Yang gave him earlier.
"Why? Isn't my oath enough?" Yvonne Darkmoon protested.
"Just follow my orders. Best if you go cultivate right now," Damien Darkmoon commanded.
Yvonne Darkmoon had been looking forward to the Territory War Contest and wanted to join the excitement. Now being told she couldn't go out was impossible for her to accept, so she snorted, "Unless you lock me up."
"Do you really want to force me to lock you up?" Damien Darkmoon stared at Yvonne Darkmoon.
Yvonne Darkmoon hadn't expected Damien Darkmoon to say that, and his gaze was so intimidating. After weighing her options, she said, "Fine, fine, I'll listen to you. I'll stay home."
Damien Darkmoon finally relaxed after hearing this and said, "It's for your own good. Sigh." Then he turned and went upstairs.
Watching Damien Darkmoon leave, Yvonne Darkmoon muttered, "For my own good? Yet you keep me trapped here. I really don't get it, but I'll find a chance to slip out eventually."
Terry Yang returned to his garrison residence, sitting in the main hall with a frown, muttering to himself, "Refused? That's fine. Next time, you won't even have a chance to back out."
After thinking for a while, Terry Yang went to his cultivation room and called for one of his attendants—a man who walked with especially soft steps.
"Aiden, you've been with me for quite a few years now, haven't you?" Terry Yang said.
"Lord Terry, ever since you were born, I've been assigned as your personal bodyguard. It's been many years," the man replied calmly, sounding quite world-weary.
Terry Yang nodded. "Then you know my temperament, and you're the person I trust most here."
"Lord Terry, whatever you instruct, I'll carry it out. I won't fail," the man said.
Terry Yang took out a box. When he opened it, a butterfly danced inside, its wings vibrant and colorful. The man's usually calm expression turned to surprise and suspicion. "What's this?"
"This is the Listening Butterfly, nurtured with my blood for nearly a hundred years. I never thought I'd actually manage to raise it into butterfly form," Terry Yang said with a smile.
"This..." The man was startled by Terry Yang's words.
"I need you to do something. Because the Listening Butterfly is so fragile outside a host, I don't want it killed before its mission is complete. You must protect it and ensure it successfully enters someone's body," Terry Yang said.
"Whose?" the man asked, calming himself.
"Damien Darkmoon's daughter, Yvonne Darkmoon," Terry Yang replied.
"Emperor Damien Darkmoon's daughter? Why not use it directly on Emperor Damien himself?" the man asked suspiciously.
"Do you really think you could get close to Emperor Damien? Manage to get this thing inside him? Besides, it's nurtured with my blood—if the target's realm is above mine, the insect won't work anyway," Terry Yang replied.
The man nodded in understanding. "Got it. I'll handle it right away."
"Right. Don't let Emperor Damien Darkmoon find out," Terry Yang said.
"Understood. I'll definitely finish the task," the man said, then took the box and left.
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Left alone in his cultivation room, Terry Yang sneered, "Senior Damien, this is what you asked for. Soon, you'll watch your daughter cling to me and even defy you in public. I wonder if you'll enjoy the show."
Emperor Damien Darkmoon had no idea Terry Yang had already set his plan in motion against Yvonne Darkmoon. As for Yvonne, she was still at home, waiting for the guards to relax so she could sneak out.
Time passed bit by bit. More and more people arrived on Mistmount Star, and the contest drew ever closer. Though the Eighth Power tried to block them, all the other factions showed up one by one, and all the groups participating in the Territory War Contest appeared as well.
There were hundreds of groups banding together, big and small. With such huge numbers, the contest became much more complicated, so the smaller groups merged into larger ones. Only this way did they have a chance at victory—after all, only the top ten groups could win planets. Those outside the top ten had to contribute planets instead. Even if they didn't like it, everyone still joined the big alliances.
Gradually, the hundreds of groups were reduced to just twenty large alliances.
Each of these twenty alliances contained up to ten sects or families, and some only participated by offering planets without sending any contestants—almost like placing a bet. If their alliance won, they'd get a share of the planets.
The event also attracted countless lone cultivators to watch—after all, this was a grand feast in the Immortal Realm, and many experts would appear, each faction sending their strongest.
Each group, from Earth Immortal to Immortal Lord, had twelve members. With twenty groups, that meant two hundred forty contestants.
Plus, there's the final contest for one hundred planets, with each alliance sending three people—thirty-six contestants in total.
So altogether, there were two hundred seventy-six contestants.
Over two hundred contestants, all considered potential experts. Some would even try every means to kill their rivals.
Such is the brutal reality of the Immortal Realm—strangling others' potential in the cradle.
Among the crowd, some stayed hidden, never showing their faces. At this moment, in a residence, inside a room, a figure shrouded in demonic flames wore a gleaming robe that concealed his aura.
Beside him stood an elder with purple eyebrows, respectfully saying, "Demon Realm Envoy, everything is arranged."