The Supreme God of Martial Arts

At each table, hushed whispering carried secret exchanges between the princes and his trusted men. The warriors too understood the real purpose behind the invitation and gauged all present vying for the Outstanding Talents Exchange Games.

But what surprised Austin was the royal family not even trying to gloss over the ugly competition between the princes. It was so obvious that the Outstanding Talents Exchange Games seemed like a prelude to a ruthless war between the brothers.

Ten princes were determined to succeed to the throne but the throne would seat only one.

Anyhow, power and politics were hardly on any warrior's mind. Rather, they were focused on one thing and one thing only—to participate in the Outstanding Talents Exchange Games come hell or high water.

Each person was a competitor for the warrior, of and beyond their camp. With a stony silence and nervous looks, most pierced the others with their stare to see how strong of will and mind his opponent was.

Among the group of warriors, one was particularly large. It contained a whopping five hundred warriors that looked arrogant and conceited. To be a part of such a huge team, all felt mightily superior from the rest for they belonged to, of course, the host, the grand prince.

As for the other groups, one had around three hundred people, which was a pretty impressive strength of show in itself. And then there was one with around two hundred people, which too couldn't be called weak. There were multiple groups with just a hundred people, of which one had Austin in it. The ones who were a bundle of nerves were formations with just a dozen of people. Among the latter, the most conspicuous anxious formation was Prince Louis's that had just twenty warriors.

"Oh, Louis, look at you! You have got me laughing my head off! Don't be too tight with your money! Recruit some warriors! You only have twenty! Twenty! Don't you understand what it means! It means, my warriors, my three hundred men, can drown your pitiful twenty men, with their mouth water!" said a man to the Prince Louis, as he roared with laughter.

"My brother, listen to me. Just go home. You have brought shame upon our family. | demand you to withdraw from the competition." The man looked young, wearing a ginger-colored robe. He seemed confident about his position in the family so much so that he felt he could bully the prince into quitting.

"Frederick, | take your criticism with respect. But | don't think the number of warriors can make a difference. It's a competition of excellence and not numbers. And all my men fight bravely with superior skills." Prince Louis retorted unruffled by his brother's jibes. The seventh prince was remarkable among his brothers.

Sitting next to Prince Frederick, both couldn't have drawn more of a contrasting picture.

Overhearing the conversation between his two brothers, another prince also cut in, "I agree with you, Louis.

Frederick, you should really trim your slack team. Take a look at my cracking troops. Each and every of them is one in a thousand. | don't think your men stand any chance fighting against them." This alleged "one in a thousand" team had only about forty warriors, a little more than Louis's. But yet this prince sounded more confident. He felt audacious enough to provoke Prince Frederick and his three hundred men.

"Ernest, | can't agree more. Frederick, if you believe in the logic that a greater number of warriors translate into a stronger team, then our eldest brother, whose team has five hundred warriors, is the strongest among ours. But is that true? Is that true, my brothers? If that's true, why are we still here? Why don't we just lay down our arms and surrender?" he paused, "So how about stop saying such nonsense and get down to combat? | can't wait anymore. Who will accept my challenge first?" This prince was obviously quick to pick a fight.

Aroused, Prince Frederick stood up, "Well, well, well! My brothers, don't think you can gang up on me like that! You want to fight? So let's fight!" He smashed his cup on the table as he finished his sentence. And then, a hush fell over the crowd.

Austin observing the sons of the emperor thought how they bickered over trivialities. It was a meaningless argument of who triumphed over whom.

By now, the platform was occupied by all the princes except for the grand prince. And as the war of words intensified among the princes, the eldest brother was still nowhere to be seen.

The princes taunted each other and raked up the past to give weight to their futile arguments. They locked horns in both open strife and veiled protests. Not a single prince could unanimously prevail over the others. With a spark of a tinder, their fights had become a sheet of flame.

The ulterior motive was, of course, the throne. Familial conduct and mores were completely rid of. They were first enemies, then brothers. This internal discord had embittered the whole of the empire now that the conflict was common knowledge.

Once, all had worn off their sarcasm, they took to surly silence. They had gone around in circles over this issue again and again. Who among them was mighty or worthy of the throne was an issue as dated as their own lives it felt. The oppressive silence had turned into angry glares as each and every one of them seated seethed in reproach.

The competitive spirit had infected the warriors too as they glared at the other princes’ formation. Most were young, and ready to jump into the battlefield. As they looked at each other, a feigned smile was exchanged out of cordiality. And yet the eyes betrayed no emotion.

Among them, a few warriors looked bloodthirsty and gnashed their teeth at their opponents. Most were eager to exchange insults and put them down in their place.

"Tell me... Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted? People like you are the reason why we have middle fingers!" a provocative warrior barked an insult at a young combatant.

"No need for insults, your stupid face says it all. You're so ugly that when you cry, the tears roll down the back of your head, just to avoid your stupid face. Your stupid lips are moving, but all | hear is 'blah blah blah!" and the other warrior replied back with a powerful counter-blow.

"Wow! You have a huge pimple in between your shoulders! Oh wait, that's your stupid face!" the provocative warrior hurled an abuse back.

"Everyone has the right to be stupid, but you're abusing the privilege," the other one retorted wittily.

The onlookers laughed hysterically at the crosstalk.

"Hey smart asses! Save it! Stop talking and start fighting! Deal with it in the combat zone!" shouted someone loudly.

The situation was on the verge of breaking out. The long wait had made the hotheaded warriors irritable. Most were anxious and itching to get into a fight.

Austin sat amongst them, and remained silent as ever. Though he did not utter a word, he was watching the others with great interest. At the same time, he kept an eye on his surroundings, specially the servants.

All of a sudden, Austin saw that about thirty men in a formation were staring at him with hostility. In a jiffy, he got goose pimples.

These men were from the Flaming Sun Valley! As he read the sign, he realized these Flaming Sun Valley warriors were under Prince Barry's command. This meant the Flaming Sun Valley was betting on him.

'The bastard | killed, isn't he the grandson of the Chief Elder of the Flaming Sun Valley sect? So now what? Now all the warriors in the Valley are united in their hatred of me? How ridiculous!" thought Austin.

He flashed an embarrassed smile back at the Valley warriors, who would obviously be his arch-enemies today.

At the other end of the square, another forty hostile warriors stared at Austin thirsty for his blood. The long coats of these warriors had a fierce wolf head embroidered on them.

They were, of course, from the Blood Wolf Team! They too were baying for blood under Prince Frederick's command.

Before Austin could react to the Valley or the Blood Wolf, a man stood up and walked towards him. He had been sitting among the warriors of Prince Barry all this while. With a few brisk broad strides, the eagle-eyed man was right in front of him, holding a Heaven's Halberd.

As Austin glanced at what was behind the man, he saw a cloud of dust trailing the path the man had just taken.

The imposing manner of just that man was as powerful as an army that was ready to strike any minute.