Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy-Chapter 264 - 266: Princes and Generals, Can They Be Anything But Noble?

"You... you actually think you can annihilate the Boling Cui Clan?" Cui Tan's voice was grim, yet resolute. "Since the time of Cui Guangping, my Boling Cui Clan has faced countless hardships. We have risen from the ashes time and again, and this time will be no different."

The Boling Cui Clan only fell this time because of the Sword Emperor. The Sword Emperor will surely help us rise again.

Upon hearing this, Wu Tian let out a cold laugh. "As long as I'm here, the Boling Cui Clan will never see a day of revival."

With that, Wu Tian waved his hand. "Kill!"

The iron-faced men charged toward Cui Tan.

Cui Tan snorted. He was also a practitioner of martial skills, not some ordinary city-dwelling elder. He immediately clashed with the iron-faced men, not at all at a disadvantage.

"These slaves of the Clear River Cui Clan are no match for me," Cui Tan spoke disdainfully. "They are not worthy to kill me. Wu Tian, if you want me dead, do it yourself. The Land of the South is destined to have you as its king. To die at your hand would be a fitting end, not a humiliation."

With that, Cui Tan threw a succession of fierce and domineering punches. The few iron-faced men surrounding him were struck and sent flying backward, spitting blood as they collapsed to the ground.

Cui Tan stood up straight and chuckled, staring directly at Wu Tian. "You'll have to do it yourself. I refuse to die at the hands of a bunch of slaves. Let me see what you, Wu Tian, are truly capable of."

The iron-faced men staggered to their feet, their eyes filled with guilt as they looked at Wu Tian. They hadn't expected this old master from the Boling Cui Clan to be a powerful Half-step Innate expert. The iron-faced men had been meticulously trained by the Clear River Cui Clan, but they stood no chance against a Half-step Innate master.

Cui Chong was also taken aback. He never expected his old rival to have secretly honed his martial arts. "Mr. Wu Tian, it seems only you can handle him. You'll have to take action."

Hearing this, Wu Tian shook his head and said with contempt, "He thinks the iron-faced men aren't qualified to kill him, that he desires to die at my hand? Yet, in my eyes... he is not worthy of dying at my hand."

Wu Tian's every word dripped with domineering arrogance. "Continue the attack."

The iron-faced men froze. They couldn't defeat Cui Tan, yet Wu Tian was still ordering them to attack? Why?

After a moment of hesitation, the iron-faced men resumed their assault on Cui Tan.

Cui Tan sneered, "It's useless! It's useless! Wu Tian, you might as well do it yourself." He struck again, intending to cripple them completely. He would make Wu Tian understand that he had to act personally.

I am the dignified Clan Leader of the Boling Cui Clan! How could I possibly die at the hands of mere commoners?

He moved to strike, but suddenly, Cui Tan felt something was wrong. It was as if a mountain was pressing down on him, and his punches slowed to a crawl.

The iron-faced men saw their chance and immediately moved in.

"No!" Cui Tan panicked, but resisting was impossible. He felt an overwhelming weight crushing his body. In the next moment, the iron-faced men were upon him, punching and kicking.

"Argh!"

After a flurry of chaotic blows, Cui Tan was left battered and bruised, his face swollen.

"How did it come to this? I... I am a member of the Boling Cui Clan! How can I die at the hands of a bunch of slaves?" The fallen Cui Tan's face was a mask of indignation. Barely able to lift his head, he stared intently at Wu Tian and begged through gritted teeth, "I beg you, kill me yourself! I am willing to die at the hands of a dragon among men like you, not a pack of dog slaves!"

Hearing this, the iron-faced men clenched their fists, the veins on their arms bulging.

Dog slaves? Is he talking about us? On what grounds does he say that? We're human, too! How are we any different? Why does he call us dog slaves? Besides his birth, what makes him better than us? If we'd had the same start in life, what would he amount to?

Wu Tian glanced at the iron-faced men, sensing their simmering resentment.

Cui Chong remained silent. For members of the great clans, the distinction between the noble and the lowly was deeply ingrained. But Wu Tian had never seen things that way. He believed in the old saying: "Are kings and generals destined by birth?"

"Go and kill him," Wu Tian said.

The iron-faced men were overjoyed.

"No, you can't do this!" Cui Tan shrieked. "Even when the great Judge Bao Zheng executed criminals, he made distinctions! There was the Dragon-Headed Guillotine, the Tiger-Headed Guillotine, and the Dog-Headed Guillotine! They are not worthy to kill me!"

Cui Tan was on the verge of madness. He was from the noble Boling Cui Clan. He could not die at the hands of the lower class. How could he possibly be killed by such filth?

Wu Tian watched the frenzied Cui Tan with utter incomprehension. He's about to die anyway. Does it really matter who kills him? In Wu Tian's eyes, there was nothing noble about Cui Tan at all.

Wu Tian looked at the iron-faced men. They hadn't moved forward, hesitating after hearing Cui Tan's words.

"If you don't even respect yourselves, how can you expect anyone else to?" Wu Tian said coldly.

Wu Tian's words struck them like lightning.

That's right. We may be subordinates, but we are not dogs! We are not dog slaves! We are not inferior to anyone.

The iron-faced men charged toward Cui Tan as one.

Despair and terror filled Cui Tan. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late. The iron-faced men's fists were merciless, their kicks even more cold-blooded.

A storm of punches and kicks rained down. Blood flew everywhere.

Cui Tan was dead.

He died with his eyes wide open, unable to accept his fate. A man of the great Boling Cui Clan, beaten to death by dog slaves! Killed by the lower class! He could not accept it, not even in death.

「Late into the night, past four in the morning.」

On a great ship in Longjing, the Sword Emperor gazed at the sword in his hand. This blade had been forged by a famous modern craftsman, but it was not one of the Three Swords of Kong Zhou, nor was it a blade forged by the legendary Ou Yezi.

At this thought, the Sword Emperor snorted. He began to brandish the blade, making it dance like a swimming dragon at the end of his right arm. In his hands, the sword seemed to come alive, moving with the same agility as his own limb.

Its Sword Qi and radiant gleam were dazzling in the darkness. Only after finishing his final form did he let out a breath and look down at the sword once more.

"Old friend, my old friend," he murmured. "You have been with me ever since I began my sword training at the age of seven. But I cannot use you in this upcoming duel. For that, I am sorry. My opponent wields Ghost Cleaver. You, an unknown blade, how could you possibly contend with such a famous sword?"

"Farewell, old friend." With those words, he tossed the sword into the sea.

He was now waiting for the Three Swords of Kong Zhou. He was confident that his battle with the Sword Saint of Fusang would be the most spectacular duel in centuries.

The Sword Emperor versus the Sword Saint.

The Sword Emperor had chosen the summit of the Forbidden City as the venue—the ancient seat of emperors.

Just then, his Sword Attendants brought two young girls over.

"Who are they?" the Sword Emperor asked indifferently.

"The granddaughters of Cui Tan from the Boling Cui Clan," a Sword Attendant reported.

The two young girls looked up at the Sword Emperor with adoration. They clearly remembered what their grandfather had told them when he sent them away: the Sword Emperor would look after them as if they were his own family, and they should follow him without any worries.