I Pick up a Lost Godhood

Chapter 230 - 228: Sacrifice VS Broken Heaven Edge

Ning Zhiyuan was trying to suppress Wang Meng with his considerable influence, using his authority to force him to submit. He was relying on the prestige he had built over many years, leveraging his off-stage status to apply pressure on the stage. Aside from a few outliers like Zhang Xiaopang, everyone was expected to fall in line.

However, he was up against Wang Meng.

Wang Meng’s smile was lofty and superior, holding the sort of fond appreciation an elder might have for a junior.

He was an Elder.

If someone wanted to show off, to put on airs, then he’d be happy to indulge them.

Wang Meng suddenly spun around without even glancing at Ning Zhiyuan and thrust his arm into the air. The suppressed disciples of the Lower Three Halls instantly found an outlet for their emotions, erupting in a thunderous cheer even more ferocious than the last.

Ning Zhiyuan froze, his expression turning ugly. He never expected this upstart Wang Meng, for all his shallow roots, would dare to challenge him in this way.

The old Wang Meng might not have bothered with such things, but the Wang Meng of today had recovered his street-fighting spirit. If Ning Zhiyuan wanted to play petty games, he was happy to teach him a lesson.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out how Ning Zhiyuan, the Senior of the Nine Halls, treated the disciples beneath him. He was surely used to his lofty position, expecting every disciple to bow respectfully and hang on his every word of instruction.

Let alone the fact that Wang Meng was an Elder—even if he weren’t, he still wouldn’t have stood for it.

Just like his and Zhang Xiaojiang’s old slogan, the two of them had come to the Small Thousand World to stir things up.

Wang Meng kept his back to Ning Zhiyuan, turning in different directions and pumping his fist at his supporters.

’If people supported him, he had to give them something in return!’

Wang Meng’s simple gesture was met with the disciples’ most frenzied response. As for Ning Zhiyuan, he was utterly forgotten.

This was a first. Never before had someone of Wang Meng’s standing deigned to acknowledge the disciples of the Lower Three Halls, who were usually treated like ants. Wang Meng didn’t just acknowledge them; he gave them hope and respect.

And Ning Zhiyuan?

The cheers grew louder and louder. Song Zhong couldn’t help but sigh. "Junior Sister, you should watch and learn. Senior Brother Ning might just capsize in the gutter."

Win or lose, this was a major blow to Ning Zhiyuan’s authority. He was, after all, a key protégé of the Holy Hall, groomed by those at the Ancestral Master Level and higher. The Ancestral Masters had deliberately cultivated his status, creating the untouchable figure he was today.

And now, Wang Meng was threatening to topple him with a single stroke.

Ning Zhiyuan was facing an unprecedented challenge. His steely gaze swept over the sections where the cheers were loudest. The disciples who met his eyes faltered for an instant, only to erupt with even louder roars a moment later.

Even a cornered dog will lash out. Did he really think he could treat these disciples like his personal servants!

Staring at that "arrogant" face, Ning Zhiyuan found it unimaginable that the Holy Hall, a place of order, was actually in revolt.

After a long moment, Wang Meng finally turned back to the ashen-faced Ning Zhiyuan, a perfectly harmless smile on his face. "Ever since I joined the Holy Hall, I’ve heard the other Elders speak of Zhiyuan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. In the coming battle, please give it your all. Don’t hold anything back."

The words nearly made Ning Zhiyuan choke. Zhang Xiaopang slapped his thigh in delight. ’Now *that’s* Brother Meng!’

’Damn,’ he thought. ’That joker Ning Zhiyuan actually dares to put on airs here? Isn’t he afraid of getting struck by lightning for it?’

Ning Zhiyuan, however, was a master of composure. He took a deep breath. ’Nominally, Wang Meng is an Elder, after all.’ "Brother Wang," he said, "the tournament makes no distinction of age or status. That is a tradition of the Holy Hall. I will naturally give it my all. I only hope that Brother Wang can set a good example for all the disciples."

Ning Zhiyuan had no intention of bickering with Wang Meng any further. Watching the frenzied, defiant roars from the disciples below, he knew he had already lost this round. Dragging it out would only bring more humiliation.

And throughout it all, not a single one of the Ancestral Masters on the platform had intervened. Clearly, some of them were also on Wang Meng’s side.

"This Wang Meng really is a character. He was so low-key and humble before, even when provoked. But the moment he faces Brother Ning, he becomes this brazen. It’s surprisingly effective."

Zhuang Xuan whispered in Zhao Guang’s ear.

Zhao Guang snorted. "He’s finally showing his true colors, that’s all. Only those ignorant disciples from the Lower Three Halls would be fooled by him!"

Zhuang Xuan smiled and nodded, but inwardly he was cursing. ’You hypocrite. You were originally from Thunderlight Hall, a classic member of the Lower Three Halls.’

’The Ma Family are scoundrels, true, but you Zhao Family are hypocrites. You’re even more shameless.’

Zhao Guang was consumed by a deep jealousy. How could Wang Meng be so popular? Thunderlight Hall was one thing, but the other Sub-Halls... what on earth had guys like Qiao Qian, Jia Shidao, and Song Zhong gotten from him? And Yang Ying... had she gone crazy or was she just hopelessly infatuated? How could she have fallen for someone like Wang Meng?

He looked at the already gorgeous Yang Ying, whose face now held an extra, captivating glow. It was clearly the radiance of a woman who had been well-loved by a man.

The thought alone drove Zhao Guang mad with jealousy. Yang Ying’s gaze was fixed so intently on Wang Meng, as if nothing else in the world existed for her.

What was most infuriating was that everyone around them seemed to accept it, acting as if Wang Meng and Yang Ying were actually a good match.

’How could a low-born nobody like him possibly be worthy!’

Under normal circumstances, the six Ancestral Masters would certainly have intervened in a showdown like this between Wang Meng and Ning Zhiyuan.

The Holy Hall was a system with a strict hierarchy. Even though Wang Meng was an Elder, everyone knew the story behind that title. In the tournament, setting aside his status as an Elder, Wang Meng was expected to defer to Ning Zhiyuan. This confrontation wasn’t just a provocation against Ning Zhiyuan; to a certain extent, it also undermined the rules of the Holy Hall.

However, Zhao Tianlong glanced at Ma Hezi, who remained perfectly at ease, showing no sign of acting. Li Xiuwen, being one of Wang Meng’s supporters, certainly wasn’t going to be biased against him, and besides, he had always been reluctant to meddle in such affairs. The remaining three—Zhou Luodan, Wu Fatian, and Thunderbolt—were a lost cause; they were actually smiling. On any other day, Zhou Luodan would have already issued a sharp rebuke.

Of course, Zhao Tianlong wasn’t foolish enough to intervene personally. After all, a blow to Ning Zhiyuan’s prestige would help Zhao Guang assert more control over Dao Guang Hall. This was one move in a much larger game.

Zhao Guang had limited ability, but he was a fighter. Zhao Tianlong didn’t expect him to control Dao Guang Hall, but as long as he could secure a foothold—even one in name only—then when the time was right for Ling Xuan, they could seize complete control of the situation.

Zhao Guang was just a stepping stone. Of course, Zhao Tianlong would never say so. One had to give those working for them a glimmer of hope to make them fight with all their might.

"Let the match begin!" Li Xiuwen announced, his voice clear and simple, kicking off the most sensational duel of the tournament.

No matter how adored a person was, once they stepped onto the Dueling Platform, the only thing that determined their honor was the sword in their hand.

"My sword is named Sacrifice. To sacrifice oneself is to become the sword, a sword that can touch the heavens!" The moment the battle began, all off-stage factors seemed to vanish from Ning Zhiyuan. He gazed at his Sacrificial Sword, his aura as unshakable as a mountain.

Wang Meng drew Broken Heaven Edge. "This is Broken Heaven Edge. Just a nameless little thing. ’Edge of heaven,’ ’touch the heavens’... it can cut all that stuff down just fine."

Ning Zhiyuan’s eyes narrowed. ’This flippant attitude... and this person is supposed to be my opponent? It’s laughable.’

"One must respect the sword. Only then is one worthy of being a Sword Cultivator!"

"Whether or not I’m a Sword Cultivator isn’t something you prove with your mouth."

But as for dedication and desire for cultivation, the Wang Meng who had once locked himself in a cave, hammering his fists against the wall again and again, understood it on a much deeper, more profound level. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to Qidian.com to vote for it. Your support is my greatest motivation.)