"Apologies." Lu Xinglan nodded at Xu Xiaojun, though she didn’t look apologetic at all.

Her voice was flat, devoid of the reverent tone usually reserved for the scion of the Imperial Throne.

If anything, she looked like she was annoyed at having to greet him, her eyes flicking back to Shen Haoran as if she were mentally comparing a forged iron coin to a bar of pure celestial gold.

To her, a ruler was defined by the weight of their presence and the sharpness of their spirit; in that regard, the young man from the Shen Clan stood miles above the man wearing the dragon-emblazoned armor.

"Hmph. It seems the Spirit Hall has grown too independent that they don’t even recognize their superior at all," said Xu Xiaojun.

His voice was laced with a venomous arrogance, his face still flushed with the embarrassment of being overlooked.

He adjusted his golden cape, trying to regain some semblance of the dignity that had been stripped away the moment the Pope mistook his ’rival’ for the future Emperor.

Well, even though it’s a one sided rivalry, with him comparing himself to Haoran, he is technically still a rival, no?

"Alright, that is enough," Shen Haoran said, casually patting Xu Xiaojun’s shoulder.

The gesture seemed friendly, but the underlying power in his touch was undeniable.

He was ordering him to stop. No questions ask.

"We are here for something important. Petty squabbles over titles won’t drive the barbarians back into the wilderness."

"Shen Haoran..." Xu Xiaojun stared at him, his pupils dilated with a mixture of jealousy and suppressed rage.

For a moment, he truly wanted to lash out, to roar his status to the heavens and demand that everyone present kneel before him.

But as he looked into Haoran’s calm, golden eyes—eyes that seemed to reflect the indifference of the stars, he didn’t dare to.

The memory of the Crown’s previous defeats and the terrifying reputation of the Shen Clan acted like a cold chain around his heart.

"Hey," Shen Xun’er suddenly spoke, stepping forward with a predatory grin that made the noble scions behind the Prince flinch. "Be careful with your eyes, I’ll gouge them out if you keep glaring at our Young Master like that. I don’t care about your crown; my fists don’t distinguish between a prince and a peasant."

Shen Haoran shot an amused look at the girl.

For some reason, this one treated him like he was a god or something, and never tolerated any form of disrespect towards him.

While the other Crowns followed him out of duty and family hierarchy, Shen Xun’er’s loyalty was more primal—it was the fierce, unyielding devotion of a beast to its pack leader.

"You—!" Xu Xiaojun pointed a trembling finger at her, his imperial pride finally reaching a breaking point. "Do you think just because you’re from the Shen Clan, I don’t dare to kill you!? I am the Crown Prince of the Tian Yuan Empire! My word is law!"

His aura burst out in a surge of golden light, the 2nd Stage Nascent Soul pressure causing the ground beneath his feet to spider-web with cracks.

He raised his hand as if to strike, but at that exact moment, Haoran’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder, suddenly clenched tightly.

"Ah!" Xu Xiaojun exclaimed in a sharp, pained cry.

The golden aura vanished instantly, snuffed out like a candle in a gale.

The strength in Haoran’s grip was monstrous; it bypassed the Prince’s protective qi and bore down directly on the bone.

Under the overwhelming pressure, Xu Xiaojun was forced down to one knee, his golden armor groaning under the strain.

"Xiaojun," Haoran spoke, his voice dropping to a low, chilling register as he glared down at the kneeling Prince. "If you dare attack one of my own, I will never forgive you. Remember where you are and who is standing in front of you."

For Haoran, the law of leadership was a simple, transactional reality.

If they offered him their servitude and loyalty, then he must also provide them with protection.

It was a simple logic, really. In exchange for their loyalty, you prevent others from bullying them.

After all, what person would follow someone who can’t even provide them with basic protection?

Since Shen Xun’er, although she didn’t voice it out loud through a formal oath, had shown through her every action that she essentially already served him, she was under his aegis.

Therefore, aside from him, no one else was allowed to bully her, and to strike at her was to strike at his personal prestige.

"I-I get it! Let go!" Xu Xiaojun gritted his teeth in pain, his eyes watering from the sheer force holding him down.

Shen Xun’er chuckled seeing that, before she stared at Haoran with eyes sparkling as if the god she worshipped just suddenly appeared in front of her.

Haoran let go of Xu Xiaojun as if he were discarding a piece of trash and turned back towards Lu Xinglan with a graceful, polite expression.

"Forgive him, Pope Lu. It seems like the Imperial Educators have failed to teach him basic manners. The air in the capital is often too thin for some to breathe correctly."

Lu Xinglan stared down at the trembling Xu Xiaojun and couldn’t help but feel a deepening sense of disappointment.

’With a crown prince like this, the Empire is basically doomed,’ she thought.

Her gaze returned to Haoran. He was calm, regal, noble, and the way he carried himself suggested that was fiercely competent.

At that, a silent, traitorous thought crossed her mind: ’Ah, if only he was the prince. The Eastern Region might actually have a future.’

"Young Master Shen... right? We have prepared a grand banquet for you and your companions," Lu Xinglan said, smoothing her robes. "Please relax and recover from your journey before you head to the blood-soaked battlefield."

Shen Haoran waved his hand dismissively. "No need for that. Our time is short, and the people of this region are suffering. Let us discuss the tactical deployment of—"

At that moment, the world seemed to scream.

A loud, piercing siren resounded throughout the Spirit Hall, its mournful wail echoing off the high stone arches and vibrating through the floorboards.

It was a signal that made Lu Xinglan lose her composure, her eyes widening as she looked up to thr sky.

Haoran looked up, his golden eyes narrowed as they swept across the horizon. "The barbarians are attacking?"

Lu Xinglan snapped out of her shock, her face turning pale.

This is the alarm set up by the ancestors of Spirit Hall, sounded only when an attacker capable of threatening the existence of Spirit Hall appeared.

She was about to open her mouth, when she received a telepathic message from one of the Elders stationed at the battlefield, informing her that the entire force of the barbarians have broken through their defenses and is already at their doorstep.

She turned towards Haoran and nodded, her expression growing increasingly worried. "Not just that... it seems this time, the barbarians have attacked in full force. They are not scouting or raiding, but are intending to capture the Spirit City and the Spirit Hall today. Their main tribe leader and elders have been spotted in the vanguard."

Haoran hummed, his mind already spinning with the backup strategies he had laid out back at the Myriad Dao Pavilion. "They probably got spooked hearing that people from the Central Region were coming. They want to eliminate the local resistance before our reinforcements can properly entrench."

"Indeed," Lu Xinglan agreed, her hands glowing with a faint purple light as she prepared her own cultivation. "They are trying to seize the initiative."

"Mother," just then, Qian Yunxi walked towards them. The young genius of the Spirit Hall looked resolute, her hand resting on the hilt of a slender silver rapier. "The defensive arrays are holding, but the pressure is immense. I will head to the battlefield immediately to bolster the outer gates."

Haoran stared at her for a moment.

Earlier, he had used his Karmic Light Observation technique and found something peculiar.

He found out that both this Lu Xinglan and her daughter, Qian Yunxi, were draped in the light of "villains."

It was a weird discovery. Usually, in the stories of the heavens, a beautiful mother-and-daughter pair were the most popular archetypes for heroines or tragic allies.

To see them both marked by the dark hue of villainy suggested they held secrets or ambitions that would eventually clash with the "protagonists" of the world.

But he didn’t think too much about it.

Whether they were heroines or villains mattered little to him at this moment; as long as they stood against the Fire Giant Tribe, they were useful.

He turned toward the Ten Crowns, the sect disciples, and the noble scions who were all looking at him for direction.

At that moment, the air suddenly grew thick with the scent of ozone and the distant sound of war drums.

"The time for talk is over," Haoran declared, his wings of qi beginning to manifest behind his back in a brilliant display of golden light. "Let’s go. It’s time to show these barbarians why the Central Region is the heart of the world."

With a sudden burst of speed, he soared into the air, followed by a sea of light as the reinforcements of the Empire moved toward the walls of the Spirit City.

The battle that would decide the fate of the Eastern Region had finally arrived at their doorstep, much earlier than they planned.