The three men were completely immobilized, unable to move a muscle. They could only glare at Evan Yang, refusing to speak. Seeing this, Evan sneered, "Since you enjoy this so much, I'll be less polite. I'll make sure you stay like this forever—unable to move, worse than death."
One of them couldn't take it anymore and said, "Fine, I'll talk, I'll talk."
"Go ahead," Evan Yang said.
"I'm from the Huang Clan," the man said.
"And what about you two?" Evan Yang asked, as if he'd already expected it.
"I'm from the Qing Family," said the Qing Family eighth-tier man.
The last one, unable to resist the temptation, said, "Fine, I'll talk. I'm sent by the Palace Lord."
Everyone was shocked when they heard this, especially Hannah Nangong, who said angrily, "What? You said the Palace Lord sent you?"
"That's right, Miss Nangong," the man said through gritted teeth.
"Damn it!" Hannah Nangong was burning with rage, wanting to kill someone, but Evan Yang said, "Hold on. Honestly, I already guessed as much."
Hannah Nangong never expected Evan Yang to guess all this, but she couldn’t accept it—she felt responsible for putting Evan in such a dangerous position, surrounded by enemies and facing endless pursuit.
Evan tossed the three attackers into a remote wilderness, then left with Hannah. On the road, he said, "Relax, I told you I’ll be fine. No matter how many come, I’ll handle them all."
"But if this keeps up, they’ll send even stronger people," Hannah sighed.
"Enough, let’s not talk about this. How about we go grab a drink? No one will bother us, and we can take our time." Evan grinned.
"Okay, but what about those guys?" Hannah asked.
"The restriction will wear off in a few days. They’ll be able to leave then," Evan replied with a smile.
"Your methods are clever—no killing, and you stop them from running back to report right away," Hannah smiled.
"Of course. Let’s go." Evan chuckled.
So Evan and Hannah found a cozy inn, ordered drinks, and chatted for a long while. When they finished, they headed back to Hannah’s manor.
Back at the manor, Hannah’s maid noticed her rare smile and wondered, "Strange, she never smiled when she came home before. Why is she smiling now? Could it be because of Young Master Evan?"
Late at night, the maid found Hannah and asked, "Miss, do you like that Young Master Evan?"
"What are you talking about?" Hannah replied, trying to stay calm despite being caught off guard.
"Don’t pretend. I’ve noticed—you’re always happy when you see him, and you’re sad when he’s not around," the maid sighed.
"Really? You’re imagining things. Anyway, you’re done here—go rest," Hannah said, worried her feelings might be obvious.
"Miss, you always act tough. I’ve been with you for years—do you really think I don’t know what’s in your heart?" The maid smiled.
"Enough, I said stop," Hannah insisted.
The maid just smiled. "Looks like it’s true."
Hannah finally couldn’t hold back and snapped, "Aren’t you leaving yet?"
The maid smiled again and left, leaving Hannah alone to mutter to herself, "Do I really like him that much?"
Hannah couldn’t imagine ever liking someone she once called a scoundrel.
Evan Yang had no idea he’d already captivated Hannah Nangong so deeply.
Right now, Evan was in the garden, staring up at the sky and thinking, "Dad, soon—I’ll settle things here and come find you. It might take a long time, but I’ll work hard, raise my cultivation, and speed up my journey to Blaze Mountain."
Evan spent the next few days at Hannah’s manor, staying there until the day of the duel. Then he and Hannah headed to the palace together.
The palace was packed—far more outsiders than usual, with families big and small all here for the spectacle. Some just wanted to watch, others were waiting to see Evan die.
The dueling platform was set up in a vast open area of the palace, with crowds already gathered all around.
The platform itself sparkled—an effect of the formation. Evan’s arrival sent a shockwave through the crowd. He never expected his duel would attract so many people.
Among the crowd were plenty of familiar faces, like Quinn Qing, whose face was covered in scars as he glared at Evan. He even sent a voice transmission: "Kid, you dared to poison me. I’ll get my revenge!"
"Oh? Well, that depends on whether you ever get the chance," Evan replied with a laugh, sending his own voice transmission.
Quinn was furious, but with so many people around, he had to hold it in.
Besides Quinn, Evan saw other families—though they were just here for the show, not really paying attention. The Palace Lord watched Evan closely, his thoughts unreadable.
Evan did feel real hatred toward the Palace Lord. The man had sent killers after him—if Evan hadn’t been strong enough, he would’ve died.
"Palace Lord, greetings," Evan said with a smile.
"Ah, you’re here. Get ready, we’ll start soon. If you win, you can marry my daughter. But if you lose—or die—it has nothing to do with us," the Palace Lord announced.
Evan smiled. "Don’t worry, I’ll win."
"Oh? That’s quite a boast. Let’s see if you’ve got the strength to back it up," said a middle-aged man with a head of yellow hair beside the Palace Lord.
Evan didn’t know this man and was about to ask, but Hannah quickly explained his identity. After hearing, Evan understood why the man had tried to suppress him.
Evan grinned, "That’s fine—I like a challenge."
"Oh? Arrogant. I hope your skills are as sharp as your tongue," the Huang Clan’s vice Palace Lord retorted.
Evan just smiled, ignoring him. The Huang Clan’s man was furious at being brushed off.
As Evan stepped onto the stage, he became the center of attention. Hannah whispered to him, "Be careful. If it’s really impossible, just admit defeat—I can threaten my father."
"No need," Evan said quickly, knowing exactly what Hannah was planning.
Hannah still couldn’t relax. Evan smiled, "You’ve been with me long enough to know my abilities. No matter how strong the opponent, if I have a shot, I’ll make sure he suffers."
(Irrelevant system line; skip translation.)
Hannah knew Evan had plenty of tricks up his sleeve. All she could do now was hope things went as he said. Meanwhile, the legendary Marcus Hale had stepped onto the stage.
On stage, Evan saw his opponent—and so did everyone else.
Evan hadn’t released his aura yet, but Hannah had seen him fight before, so she had an idea of his strength. She was shocked that he’d advanced to eighth-tier Heavenly-Immortal.
"Everyone knows what day it is. No matter who wins or loses, this duel is fair," the Palace Lord declared, standing up.
Everyone understood what the Palace Lord meant. He claimed it was fair, but for Evan, it was anything but.
After all, it was an eighth-tier Heavenly-Immortal versus a peak Xuan-Immortal. Anyone could see Evan was doomed—but there were always fools willing to try.
To the crowd, the Palace Lord was trying to get rid of Evan. Right now, Evan looked like a dead man walking.
Hannah watched the stage, torn inside, wondering what she’d do if things went wrong.
Evan stood facing his opponent. Marcus Hale was only six or seven steps away—if he wanted, he could close the distance instantly.
"You may only be a Heavenly-Immortal, but I won’t hold back," Marcus said calmly.
Evan smiled. "That’s fine by me."
"Let’s start with a clash of aura. I want to see if you really have what it takes to stand against me," Marcus said, his tone flat.
Evan agreed. Both unleashed their qi. To everyone watching, it was obvious Evan would be crushed. At first, he really was—sparks from the clashing energies flickered all around him.
"He’s dead for sure," the Palace Lord thought to himself, and those who hated Evan were secretly pleased.
Marcus smirked, "Is this all you’ve got? You’re a disappointment. In that case, I’ll just cripple you."
He pushed even more power at Evan, but Evan was waiting for his moment. When the time was right, Evan grinned, "Oh? Then you’re about to be disappointed."
With that, Evan unleashed a surge of powerful qi, aiming it straight at Marcus.
Everyone watched as the sparks shifted from Evan’s side, pushing toward Marcus until the clash stabilized right in the middle.
The entire arena erupted. Even though it was a stalemate, Evan was only an eighth-tier Heavenly-Immortal—how could he possibly match a peak ninth-tier Xuan-Immortal?
The Qing Family and the Palace Lord were both amazed at how Evan had advanced from Earth-Immortal to eighth-tier Heavenly-Immortal in just over a decade.
Everyone who knew Evan’s history was already thinking about how to force him to reveal his cultivation method.
Right now, Evan was the center of attention.
"How is this possible?" Marcus blurted out. Not just him—everyone, including the Palace Lord, stared at Evan in shock, trying to figure out what was going on.
"This kid’s qi has always been weird!" Quinn muttered. Back when Evan was just an Earth-Immortal, he’d already challenged people several realms above him—none of them could stand against him.
The Palace Lord had seen it before, but even now, he was stunned. Off to the side, Hannah’s expression finally eased a little as she looked at Evan.
"Nothing’s impossible. Want to see me push you back instead?" Evan smiled.
"Push me back? You’re arrogant, kid. You think a Heavenly-Immortal’s qi can compare to an Immortal Lord’s?" Marcus sneered.
"I don’t know about Immortal Lord, but pushing you back is no problem," Evan grinned.
"Is that so? I’d like to see you try." Marcus, as a peak Xuan-Immortal, couldn’t afford to lose to a Heavenly-Immortal—not for his reputation or with the Palace Lord watching.
So Marcus ramped up his aura—which was exactly what Evan wanted. The stronger Marcus got, the stronger Evan’s devouring qi became. This was his chance to win.
No one expected it—the sparks suddenly surged past the center, blasting straight toward Marcus. He was left stunned, unable to understand how Evan had done it. The entire arena erupted in chaos.
The noise was deafening. To the crowd, it was like witnessing a miracle.