In all Nanhong there were not many with the standing to declare war on the Dragon Palace.

Count them how you liked, it came down to the Sect Masters of the Nanhong Seven.

The standing, at any rate, was not in question.

But… but was the cultivation not rather too far short?!

A decision for a Dao-merging colossus to make — and a middle-stage Return-to-Void could make it too, could he?

This time even Liu Shiqian's expression turned strange.

He would have given a great deal to swallow that last sentence back.

The Yan family rose into the air by instinct, meaning to stop Shen Yi, and Yan Xianqing's face changed outright.

Perhaps the aura was too plain to miss.

Down in the inlet, that seated figure drew its brows faintly together.

He sat bolt upright in gorgeous golden armor, a pearl coronet on his head; and on that rather childish face two small dragon horns grew from the brow.

In the instant those brows drew together.

The four guards beside him turned cold-faced as one and raised their eyes. "Disturbing the dragon grandson's quiet cultivation — are you all looking to die? Get out!"

The highest in cultivation among these guards was no more than the ninth layer of Return-to-Void.

Yet at their shout, every cultivator there, Yan Xianqing included, actually checked his step by instinct.

The dread name of the master of Hongze had long since passed beyond any question of realm.

In a matter of this magnitude, even Liu Shiqian would have to report back to his sect first, and could not act until he had his Sect Master's decree.

"South Palace dragon grandson, Ke the Thirteenth."

Every dragon grandson was an entry in the registers of the Nanhong powers.

The Thirteenth was the youngest, and he was called Ke Xuanjian.

He had come up late, but had already made an enormous name — in no way inferior to his father and elder brothers at the same age, and in some respects beyond them.

His father was a Yellow-Miasma Poison Dragon, and his mother too was a…