Chapter One Hundred Sixteen: Deploying the Troops

Chapter 116: Deploying Troops and Formations

Wu Hong wondered for a moment who could possibly be acting against him. With a faint smile, he said, "Very well! I accept your challenge."

His response took everyone by surprise. Given Wu Hong’s status, refusing would have had no impact on his authority; that token represented supreme power, much like the emperor’s throne—there is only one, and whoever sits upon it is the absolute sovereign. Furthermore, the three burly men were envoys from the Great Han Dynasty, and their demands were trivial—challenges involving miscellaneous pursuits. While the previous Prince Wuwei had dabbled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, he was by no means a master. As for military strategy, that had been the former Prince’s forte, but the dashing young man before them had been a flamboyant playboy who had never served in the military. How could he possibly compete in such matters?

The only area where Wu Hong might have had an advantage was a test of destructive martial power. The first two categories seemed like guaranteed losses.

The three envoys, acting under orders from those who did not wish to submit to Wu Hong, had merely sought a pretext to humiliate him. They never expected him to agree so readily. They exchanged glances, feeling a mix of joy and anxiety. They were pleased at the prospect of stripping the young Prince Wuwei of his dignity, yet they feared the repercussions their actions might bring upon the Great Han Dynasty. After all, the man before them was the Prince Wuwei of the Great Qian Dynasty. Even if he wasn't the legendary, undefeated commander of the past, the mere weight of the title "Prince Wuwei" was enough to make anyone tremble.

Emperor Yang Wei was the most delighted of all, though he maintained a stern expression. "How bold! King Liu Zhang of Han, did you give them this courage? How dare you hold the majesty of Great Qian in such contempt? Do you think the Prince Wuwei is someone you can challenge on a whim?"

Though Yang Wei’s tone grew colder, his heart soared. He wanted to see Wu Hong humiliated. The three envoys, unaware of Yang Wei’s true intentions, broke into a cold sweat. Their worst fears were being realized: if this match were handled poorly, it would shatter the neutral relations between the Great Qian and Great Han dynasties. With the regional powers in a state of delicate balance, any disruption could be catastrophic.

Terrified, the three men fell to their knees, trembling. "We congratulate the Prince Wuwei on his new ascension! Long live, long live, long live!"

Emperor Yang Wei inwardly cursed himself, thinking, *Why is my tongue so loose? These men are far too easily frightened!*

The court officials secretly gave Wu Hong a thumbs-up. This was the art of "withdrawing to advance"! By unexpectedly accepting the challenge, he had caught them off guard and filled them with apprehension. When coupled with Emperor Yang Wei’s feigned outrage, the pressure became too much, and they had no choice but to submit.

The envoys, having initially intended to back Wu Hong into a corner, were now at a loss. Seeing them kowtowing incessantly, Wu Hong remained calm and silent, yet the officials’ estimation of him soared. In truth, Wu Hong had not planned this; he had simply intended to test his own strength against the envoys. He never expected to force them into a retreat.

"The three of you, please rise," Wu Hong said, exerting his internal energy. An invisible force prevented them from bowing any further, leaving them shocked. As national envoys, they were well-versed in both martial arts and worldly affairs. Even without reaching the perfection of the Houtian realm, they knew enough to be terrified by the effortless way Wu Hong held them in place. They realized this new Prince Wuwei was a formidable character indeed.

"I am untalented," Wu Hong continued. "I have never served in the military, so I cannot speak of strategy. Of music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, I only understand a little painting; the rest is a mystery to me. My martial arts are mediocre, and I lack confidence in a raw test of destructive power. However, I enjoy friendly competition. Winning or losing is secondary; let us simply have fun. Since our Emperor has recently ascended the throne, I am happy to accommodate you. Let us treat this as a gesture of friendship—competition comes second, and friendship comes first."

Wu Hong’s words were tactful and disarming. He had reframed the conflict as a friendly exchange between nations. His political finesse was impeccable.

"Excellent!" Emperor Yang Wei exclaimed. "As I have recently ascended the throne, it is a rare pleasure to have you celebrate with us. Where is the Yulin Guard?"

With a thunderous sound, tens of thousands of spirited soldiers marched onto the drill ground. These were the elite of the elite, all masters who had reached the Bone-Refining realm. The three envoys paled, realizing they might have fallen into a trap.

The officials marveled at Wu Hong’s wisdom. With a few words, he had accepted the challenge, forced the envoys to acknowledge his status, and then proposed a "friendly" match. Whether Great Qian won or lost, its reputation remained untarnished. If they won, it was a triumph; if they lost, it was just a game. Furthermore, by framing it as a national friendship match, Yang Wei was obliged to send his elites, ensuring a landslide victory in the first trial.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" The roar of nearly ten thousand Bone-Refining masters shook the heavens, their murderous intent coalescing into a palpable force. The envoys were visibly shaken.

Though it was a "friendly" match, the dignity of their nation was at stake. They had no choice but to fight.

"Where is the Wild Wolf Guard?" the tallest envoy shouted toward the drill ground.