Chapter 50: The Ninth Prince of the Golden Cloud Dynasty

Gu Ningyun shielded Lin Fan behind her, her gaze solemn as she stared intently at the young man before them.

Among the Eight Great Dynasties, robes woven from golden threads and embroidered with cloud-dragon patterns were worn exclusively by the imperial family of the Golden Cloud Dynasty.

In each of the Eight Great Dynasties, the imperial clan possessed its own traditional attire, but the Golden Cloud Dynasty’s golden-threaded cloud-dragon robe was the most renowned. It was not only a symbol of identity but also represented supreme glory and power.

The young man hailed precisely from the Golden Cloud Dynasty. Not only did he possess imperial blood, but he was also gifted with extraordinary talent and prowess.

His sudden appearance undoubtedly cast an intangible pressure over everyone present. After all, when facing an imperial prodigy, even Gu Ningyun had to treat the situation with the utmost caution.

"Your Highness, save me..."

Upon seeing the young man appear, Huo Shan acted as though his own father had descended, crying out repeatedly for rescue.

"My name is Jin Moyu."

Jin Moyu!

The pupils of Gu Ningyun and her companions abruptly constricted as they stared in disbelief at the youth. Jin Moyu was the Ninth Prince of the Golden Cloud Dynasty, possessing immense talent. At merely twenty years of age, he had already attained the peak of the late Yuan Mansion realm, hailed as the contemporary imperial prodigy second only to the Eleventh Prince, Jin Yanfeng.

An individual of this caliber should have long since been nearing the Central Divine Mountain, should they not?

Why would he appear here?

Furthermore.

Huo Shan actually had connections to him.

"Just now, I told you to stop. Why did you still dare to strike?"

Jin Moyu seemed to thoroughly enjoy the looks of shock mingled with a hint of fear on the faces of Gu Ningyun and the others. However, when his gaze fell upon Lin Fan and saw the latter's calm expression—as if he felt no fear of him whatsoever—it felt to Jin Moyu like a grave insult. His face darkened as he asked in an icy tone.

As he spoke, his aura surged, and the might of a peak late Yuan Mansion realm expert pressed directly down upon Lin Fan.

The young man instantly felt an invisible, terrifying pressure envelop his entire body. His breathing grew labored, as though a heavy mountain were pressed against his chest, rendering him almost unable to move.

Lin Fan clenched his teeth, attempting to steady his stance, but that oppressive force rolled in like a tidal wave, bringing with it an unbearable weight.

Jin Moyu sneered, feeling even more smug as he watched Lin Fan bitterly struggle to hold his ground.

He knew his own strength vastly surpassed Lin Fan's; such coercion was negligible to him, but to Lin Fan, it was an excruciating ordeal.

Lin Fan's face turned pale, and beads of fine sweat broke out across his forehead. His body trembled slightly, clearly enduring to the utmost the torment inflicted by that overwhelming pressure.

Yet, his gaze remained resolute, without the slightest intention of backing down.

Gu Ningyun and the others felt cold sweat bead on their backs as they watched this scene.

They knew that while Lin Fan was extraordinary, a significant gap still remained between him and Jin Moyu.

At this moment, Lin Fan was clearly enduring tremendous pressure.

"I ask Your Highness to show mercy. My friend had no intention of causing offense."

"And what kind of a thing are you?"

Jin Moyu gave Gu Ningyun no face whatsoever, casting a cold, disdainful glance at her and barking in a chilling tone.

"I won't allow you to bully Big Sister and Brother Lin Fan!"

Suddenly.

A sharp, youthful cry rang out not far behind Gu Ningyun. The speaker was none other than Gu Ningxiang, who circulated her spiritual energy, seemingly inclined to make a move against Jin Moyu.

The expressions of the others shifted drastically; they wished to stop her, but it was already too late.

The person before them was Jin Moyu, a peak late Yuan Mansion powerhouse, and the Ninth Prince of the Golden Cloud Dynasty—one of the Eight Great Dynasties. His status and strength were simply beyond anything their group could hope to match.

"Where did this wild brat come from, daring to speak to me like that?

You're courting death!"

A flash of murderous intent crossed Jin Moyu's eyes as he glared viciously at Gu Ningxiang. With a single wave of his hand, a fierce palm print swept forward, bearing down heavily toward Gu Ningxiang to suppress her.

"Little sister!"

Gu Ningyun moved to offer assistance, but another figure had already darted out a step ahead of her.

At that moment, Lin Fan would no longer hold back. Wielding the Fire Kirin Sword, his sword light cascaded like a waterfall, blazing with intense flames.

Faced with Jin Moyu's palm strike—one that practically threatened to tear the space apart—Lin Fan knew that meeting force with force was by no means the wisest strategy.

His spiritual energy surged within him, and an unprecedented determination and courage welled up from the depths of his heart.

With a flash, Lin Fan vanished like a ghost, reappearing before Gu Ningxiang. The Fire Kirin Sword in his hand danced, its tip trembling like a leaf in a gale, stirring up waves of wind-whipping sounds.

All of his strength seemed to concentrate at the tip of the sword in that instant. As the blade danced, the sword qi of the Raging Wind Sword Art transformed into countless razor-sharp blades of wind, meeting Jin Moyu's incoming palm print head-on.

"Get lost!"

Lin Fan's cold shout carried an unyielding determination.

The wind blades and the palm print collided violently in mid-air, producing a deafening roar.

The air itself seemed torn by the two opposing forces into minute, delicate fissures, while the dust on the ground was whipped up by the turbulent energy fluctuations, spinning into miniature vortexes.

A flicker of astonishment crossed Jin Moyu's eyes; clearly, he had not expected Lin Fan to erupt with such staggering combat prowess.

Lin Fan's figure flickered amidst the gales, every appearance accompanied by flashing sword light, and every disappearance leaving behind a lingering wake of sword qi.

Though he had managed to barely fend off Jin Moyu's onslaught, the immense pressure still left him breathing heavily.

"You too dare to block me?

Then die together!"

With his offensive thwarted, a ruthless killing intent abruptly washed over Jin Moyu's features as rolling vortexes of qi surged beneath his feet.

He had never anticipated that Lin Fan, while enduring his coercion, could still withstand his attack. This dealt a direct blow to his self-esteem and challenged his majesty.

Jin Moyu let out a cold snort, his aura climbing once more as he prepared to unleash an even more formidable attack, utterly obliterating the obstacles before him in a single stroke.

However, right at the moment he was about to launch his fatal blow, a lithe figure abruptly cut into the center of the battlefield.

Her movements were graceful and swift, resembling a fluttering butterfly, yet they harbored a power that could not be underestimated.

Her appearance caused the atmosphere on the field to undergo yet another subtle shift.

With a gentle wave of her palm, resembling a conductor directing an invisible symphony, the surrounding air seemed to be manipulated by some mysterious force. It formed intricate arrays of air currents that skillfully dissolved Jin Moyu's surging vortex attack.

"Jin Moyu, bullying two martial artists of the Divine Dan realm by relying on your own cultivation—you've truly dragged the honor of the Golden Cloud imperial family through the mud.

I wonder, if your Eleventh Brother were to learn of these actions of yours, would he strip you of your position directly?"

The girl's voice was crisp and composed, laced with thick mockery.

A look of contempt flickered in her eyes, showing profound disdain for Jin Moyu's behavior.

When Jin Moyu finally caught sight of the girl's appearance, his pupils contracted, his expression suddenly sinking, and a trace of dread flitting across his eyes as he spoke each word with deliberate weight:

"Yue Qingcheng!"