C17 - Bet

Wang Tian stood, silent as stone, after Elder Shen’s sharp words. The grand hall of the Wang Clan felt colder than winter; tension thickened the air like mist before a storm. Elder Shen spoke with a mask of courtesy, but none in the hall were fooled, least of all Wang Tian. Beneath “peace” lay a threat as hidden and deadly as a blade tucked in a sleeve.

Wang Tian slowly turned his gaze to Elder Shen. His face remained calm, his eyes gleamed cold and sharp—with such force that even a Soul Formation realm expert might feel his heart tremble. Elder Shen’s mind raced, for he believed Wang Tian was only at the Peak Nascent Soul Realm—and yet this pressure made his soul shiver.

“Oh?” Wang Tian’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Is Elder Shen asking my Wang Clan to swallow humiliation… or prepare to face the wrath of the Radiant Cloud Sect?”

Elder Shen tightened his jaw, a trace of fear flickering in his eyes. “Patriarch Wang, that isn’t my intent,” he stammered, yet his voice betrayed his nervousness.

Wang Tian stepped forward, each movement heavy—as if he shifted a mountain with every stride. “Intentions mean little, Elder Shen. Arrogance cannot hide behind sweet words.” His steady voice rolled out softly, yet caused every heart in the hall to tremble.

“Does my Wang Clan fear destruction?” Wang Tian’s gaze swept the crowd. “Are we fated to bow before your mighty sect simply because it bears a grand name?”

Elder Shen didn’t say anything and stared at Wang tian.

“Will you destroy my clan if we do not kneel to your will?” Wang Tian pressed, pausing before continuing. “Then let’s settle this with a bet.”

In stunned silence, the elders and guests stared. Even the Wang Clan’s own elders were taken aback, but this time none tried to stop their Patriarch—fear of showing weakness before outsiders held their tongues.

Elder Shen narrowed his eyes. “A bet, Patriarch Wang? What do you propose?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“You know the Dragon Phoenix Competition held in three years?” Wang Tian’s voice was sharp, yet his smile turned mocking. “Your sect always claims the first place... correct?”

Realizing the challenge, Elder Shen’s mask slipped away—arrogance flashed on his face. "Challenge my sect? Who do you think you are?" His laughter rang loud, growing icy at the end.

“That’s the true Elder Shen,” Wang Tian said, unruffled, mocking right back.

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Elder Shen’s face darkened. “Enough! You wish to bet with us? Very well! State your conditions!”

The tension in the hall surged, thick enough to suffocate. Elder Wu and Wu Ruolan looked pale as ghosts—Ruolan, most of all, doubted her hasty choice to break off her engagement, realizing only now the weight of her mistake.

Elder Shen leaned in, voice hard as iron. “If the Wang Clan loses, nothing remains—your family will be wiped from existence.” His threat was both open and merciless, thunder rolling through the room.

Wang Tian’s anger simmered, yet his resolve sharpened. He wished only to restore his clan’s honor with this bet, but now he wanted more. No longer would he tolerate even the name of the Radiant Cloud Sect after the competition.

He laughed coldly. “You came to shatter my clan’s pride and called it negotiation. You brought a fake pill as a gift. Now you threaten me under the mask of advice.” He paused, gaze fierce upon everyone present. “This hall stands not because of your power, but because of my restraint.”

Shocked gasps filled the hall. Wang Tian’s words cut deeper than any sword.

“Let the reward be clear, then!” Wang Tian’s eyes gleamed. “If my clan does not take first place at the competition, we will renounce the marriage agreement—and deliver our fate to your sect. Do with us as you wish.” Silence fell heavy; the Wang Clan elders thought their Patriarch had lost his mind, but it was too late to interfere now.

Elder Shen was stunned for a moment before laughter broke out again. In his heart, he believed victory was assured—he felt little need to make promises in return, choosing instead to mock.

Before anyone could object, Wang Tian spoke again. “What if your sect loses, Elder Shen? What do you risk?” His gaze was unyielding.

Elder Shen, arrogance at its peak, sneered. “If we lose… the Radiant Cloud Sect will be disbanded.”

The crowd fell again into shocked silence; two men brandished words like swords, with stakes as high as life and legacy. None present could grasp the madness of what was unfolding.

Wang Tian’s voice was calm, mocking. “Will your promise hold, or will your sect deny it after defeat?”

Elder Shen bristled, but did not back down. “My word is my sect’s word. If you doubt, we shall put it to writing.”

“Then let it be so,” Wang Tian agreed smoothly.

With a signal, a servant fetched ink and paper. Each man wrote the terms, signed his name, and exchanged the agreements.

“Are you satisfied now, Patriarch Wang?” Elder Shen handed over the agreement with a smirk. Wang Tian checked the contents, nodded, and returned his own agreement.

“We shall meet at the competition, Elder Shen.” Wang Tian’s voice was steady, as the storm before the calm.

Elder Shen glanced over the document, then sneered, “Prepare yourself, Patriarch Wang.” With that, he turned away—followed by Elder Mo and the sect’s disciples. Only Elder Wu and Wu Ruolan stayed behind, their hearts heavy.

“Patriarch Wang, please reconsider,” Elder Wu pleaded.

“Patriarch Wang, I beg you, this is all my fault,” Wu Ruolan echoed desperately. “I’ll ask my teacher to break the agreement, please, don’t destroy your family over this.”

Wang Tian looked upon them with expressionless eyes, saying nothing. After long, silent moments, he stood, walked to the great doors, and spoke in a voice cold as winter.

“You may leave. The Wang Clan does not welcome visitors who bear threats disguised as gifts.”

Elder Wu and Wu Ruolan exchanged defeated glances, shame and sorrow pooling in their eyes. Without another word, they left the hall, their footsteps echoing like fading memories of trust and brotherhood.

As the great doors closed behind them, the sound rang through the courtyard, sealing the end of an era—etched in the hearts of all who witnessed it.