Mu Yan couldn't help but chuckle aloud, paying no heed to the jeers around him. Instead, he turned toward Mu Kun with a teasing smile. "Not bad, Little Kun. Took first place, did you?"
The nickname "Little Kun" made Mu Kun's expression darken noticeably. That was what Mu Yan used to call him in the past—but now he was the Mu Clan's foremost genius. What right did Mu Yan have to address him so familiarly?
"Mu Yan, watch your mouth!"
"Brother Kun is our champion! Who do you think you are?"
"As a member of the Mu Clan, how dare you not bow before the victor?"
One by one, the younger clansmen shouted indignantly at Mu Yan. Several eager flatterers even raised their voices, desperate to win Mu Kun's favor.
"Champion?" Mu Yan sneered. "Little Kun, you dare call yourself that when you can't even beat me?"
His scornful remark stirred a mixture of shock and outrage in the crowd. This so-called cripple dared insult the champion? Was he utterly unaware of his own worth?
Mu Kun's fury erupted. "Don't forget you're no longer the prodigy you once were, Mu Yan. Watch your tone! If you've got a problem, why don't we settle it right here?"
He had long yearned for this chance—to humiliate the former genius in front of everyone.
Mu Lei instantly appeared at his son's side, standing protectively before him.
"My son just returned, and you know he's weaker than you. If anyone dares bully him again, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Mu Lei was fiercely protective. During the years Mu Yan was cast aside as a cripple, he had been out fulfilling clan duties—and he had never stopped blaming himself for not being there.
That guilt had built up for too long. Now, no one would be allowed to lay a hand on his son.
Mu Kun straightened and said coolly, "Uncle Lei, I'm not bullying him. He's the one provoking me."
"You talk too much, Little Kun," Mu Yan said with a shake of his head and a faint smile. "I used to beat you up, and I can still beat you now."
With that, he leapt effortlessly onto the dueling platform.
"Yan'er!" Mu Lei's heart leapt into his throat, fearing his son had fallen for Mu Kun's provocation.
After all, Mu Kun was already at the sixth level of Foundation Establishment—an elite in the clan. Even if Mu Yan had regained his ability to cultivate, how could he possibly compete?
But Mu Yan gave him a reassuring look, and Mu Lei could only bite back his concern.
"You actually dared to step up? Courting death!" Mu Kun sneered, his eyes flashing with cruelty. Finally, he would trample Mu Yan beneath his feet in public.
Mu Yan shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Trash shouting louder is still trash."
That remark sent Mu Kun into a fury. He, the clan champion, was being called trash?
"Who are you calling trash?" Mu Kun roared. His aura surged with his rage, a violent wind sweeping across the arena.
Mu Yan tilted his head lazily. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I wasn't just talking about you. I meant—everyone here is trash."
His gaze swept across the younger generation below, his smile radiant.
The words, however, ignited an instant uproar.
"Arrogant to the extreme! You dare call us trash?"
"Don't think we won't hit you just because you're good-looking!"
"Who do you think you are, spewing such nonsense? You can't even cultivate, you cripple!"
A storm of angry curses rose from the crowd. Furious, the youths seemed ready to leap forward and beat Mu Yan to a pulp.
Did this lunatic still think he was the admired genius of yesteryear?
"Let's not waste time. All of you, come at once!" Mu Yan laughed heartily.
He hadn't returned to defeat one person—he had returned to crush them all, to show the world that he had been reborn.
The crowd gasped. Had they heard him right? He was challenging everyone?
Was he insane?
Dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators could flatten him with a single slap each—what gave him the courage to say something so reckless?
Mu Lei grew visibly anxious, terrified his son had lost his mind.
Already, several youths had leapt onto the platform. Once the first wave ascended, more followed—until the stage behind Mu Kun was packed with challengers.
Even Mu Tingting stood among them.
"Mu Yan, must you do this?" she said, shaking her head, her tone filled with disappointment.
The image of the dazzling genius she once admired seemed utterly shattered. The boy she once followed like a shadow had become a delusional fool.
To challenge everyone for the sake of pride? No rational person would do such a thing.
Once, she had idolized him. Now, she was grateful she had moved on.
They were no longer the same—they no longer belonged in the same world.
On the platform, Mu Yan stood utterly alone, as though facing the world by himself.
Yet his posture remained straight, his expression calm, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. To others, he looked suicidal—but in his heart, he brimmed with confidence.
Mu Kun stood at the head of the assembly, his arrogance growing with each second.
"See this?" he mocked. "The Mu Clan listens to me now. You're not even worth a fart. Kneel, beg for mercy, and I might let you off."
Mu Yan merely found it childish—utterly laughable.
The Mu Clan?
Compared to the Kunlun Holy Land, it wasn't even worth mentioning.
In terms of status, as the personal disciple of Kunlun's master, he stood on a level the Mu Clan could never reach.
To him, the clan he once revered was nothing more than a distant memory.
"I'll give you one last chance. Come at me together—otherwise, don't blame me if you lose too badly."
His voice was calm as ever, as though completely unaware of the danger he was in.
That indifference was the final straw for Mu Tingting. She stepped forward, her voice cold. "Do you want to be everyone's laughingstock? Fine. I'll be your first opponent—let reality wake you up."
She raised her hand—but Mu Yan stopped her.
"I told you to come together. Do you not understand words?"
The Grand Elder's expression had darkened to its limit. Ever since Mu Yan had returned, his arrogance had been insufferable.
"You heard him, Kun'er. Let's grant his wish. Everyone—attack. Do not hold back."
With his order, hesitation vanished. The crowd's smiles twisted into something far more sinister.
After all, if Mu Yan wanted to die, they couldn't be blamed.
"Fool," Mu Kun scoffed, his disdain palpable. He gathered his spiritual energy and charged.
Mu Tingting's expression was equally frigid. Her attack held no mercy—it was as though she were fighting a mortal enemy.
The others followed, each unleashing their techniques. Chaos erupted, filling the Mu Clan courtyard with wild, surging energy.
Dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators attacking in unison—such a spectacle would send even early Core Formation cultivators fleeing.
And yet, Mu Yan didn't move.
He stood still, as though untouched by fear.
Below, Mu Lei's heart leapt to his throat, ready to rush forward at a moment's notice.
Just when everyone thought Mu Yan would be obliterated, a fearsome aura suddenly exploded from within him—one blazing with intense heat.
Everyone felt it. And in that moment, their expressions changed, struck with disbelief—as though they had seen a ghost.
"Core Formation stage?!"