Chapter 822: Declaration of War

Chapter 822: Chapter 822: Declaration of War

The three guards stepped toward the center of the hall, forming a triangle around Ethan. Each exuded a dense, murderous aura characteristic of veteran cultivators who had forged their power on battlefields.

The guard from the Radiant Sun Empire drew a greatsword enveloped in golden flames; the envoy from the Eternal Night manifested a pair of twin daggers coated in poisonous shadows; and the soldier from the Divine Wind wielded a long spear that hissed with sharp gusts of wind.

Despite the emissaries presenting them as "simple escorts," their cultivation hovered near the peak of the Spiritual Transcendence realm. It was a trap designed to cripple or kill the Golden Dragon Empire’s new genius under the guise of a diplomatic test.

Ethan didn’t draw the Black Chaos Sword. He kept his arms relaxed at his sides, observing their footwork with disinterested eyes.

"Die, arrogant brat!" roared the spear guard, propelling himself forward on a gust of wind that launched him toward Ethan’s throat.

Simultaneously, the flaming swordsman plunged from above with a downward strike, while the dagger assassin slid like a shadow to pierce his heart from behind.

A coordinated strike from three blind spots.

Ethan didn’t flinch. With subtle movements, he tilted his torso merely a few centimeters to the left, letting the spear graze past his neck without touching him. A second later, he took a step back; the flaming blade cut empty air beside him, and the poisonous daggers slashed where his heart had been a fraction of a second prior. He dodged the triple onslaught with astonishing smoothness.

Before their weapons could touch the ground, Ethan unleashed the aura of his Sword Heart.

BOOM!

An invisible, razor-sharp wave of pure sword intent erupted from his frame. The destructive pressure pulverized the three guards’ weapons into thousands of splinters and slammed directly into their chests.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The sound of fracturing ribs echoed with terrifying clarity.

The three guards flew backward like cannonballs, tearing through the hall’s air until slamming violently against the heavy bronze doors at the entrance. They collapsed onto the floor unconscious, coughing up thick mouthfuls of blood onto the marble, their spiritual seas completely collapsed.

Upon witnessing the scene, the three envoys shot up to their feet, their faces turning pale and stricken with shock. No one uttered a word, but the exact same thought flashed through the minds of the Prime Minister of the Radiant Sun, Duke Vaelthor, and Commander Morgana: A second Vorian has been born.

That boy could not be allowed to live even one more day, or their empires would soon face total annihilation.

A single Vorian already made them feel suffocated, utterly incapable of countering the Golden Dragon Empire’s dominance in the region. A second Vorian did not represent a mere shift in power; it meant complete destruction for their nations.

Ethan hadn’t even ruffled his hair. He flicked a speck of dust from his shoulder, turned his head toward the three emissaries, and looked at them with a cold smirk.

"It seems your guards need a bit more training," Ethan said in a measured voice. "Or would the emissaries themselves prefer to step up and show me the true strength of your empires?"

The three emissaries gritted their teeth in fury, feeling the burn of humiliation deep in their chests as they stared at their unconscious guards on the floor.

From atop the jade throne, the Emperor broke the tense silence in a calm voice that echoed throughout the hall.

"I hope you enjoyed the hospitality of my empire and the demonstration by my subject," said the Emperor. "Do you have anything else to say or request?"

The Prime Minister of the Radiant Sun, summoning his courage, stepped forward with a stiff smile.

"Of course we are satisfied, Your Imperial Majesty," replied the Prime Minister. "We would be ungrateful not to be. However, we do have one request... is it possible for young Ethan to join us in the upcoming exploration of the Dark World?"

The Emperor’s gaze locked onto them with coldness. It was not uncommon for a genius of Ethan’s caliber to be sent to such a realm, but inside the Dark World there were no dimensional restrictions; even experts of his own level could enter. It was considered the most dangerous place on the entire continent.

"I will consider it," replied the Emperor without flinching. "It will still be a few years before that portal opens, so we can discuss it in the future."

"I see...", chimed in Duke Vaelthor, narrowing his dark eyes. "It seems Your Majesty is adamant about protecting this chick. But if you do not let him fly, it might prove impossible for him to truly grow."

The situation was urgent. Seeing Ethan’s monstrous talent, the three emissaries knew they had no choice but to take a more active stance to force the empire’s hand.

The Emperor stared at them and asked in a measured tone:

"Is that the consensus of everyone present?"

At that moment, Commander Morgana, Duke Vaelthor, and the Prime Minister stood firm, holding the monarch’s gaze.

"Yes," the three responded in unison.

The Emperor let out a faint sigh and stood up. The spiritual pressure emanating from his body condensed into a lethal aura.

"Tell your emperors there will be no need for the next Tournament of Empires," declared the Emperor in an imperious tone. "The Golden Dragon Empire formally declares war against your three nations."

Before the emissaries could react or unleash their powers, the Emperor raised his hand and struck downward with a direct palm strike into the air.

BOOM!

An irresistible golden shockwave swept through the Grand Audience Hall. The impact instantly shattered the spiritual sea of each of the three emissaries and their entourage, destroying their cultivation and fracturing every bone in their bodies in a single instant.

The diplomats collapsed to the floor in agony, coughing up thick mouthfuls of blood, clinging to life by a thread.

"With what little breath you have left, inform your sovereigns of your actions," declared the Emperor, turning his back on them. "If they do not come in person with an appropriate apology, I will not mind sweeping through their realms once more."