Chapter 202: Come, Come, Let's Play Chess

They exchanged glances, each seeing profound shock reflected in the other's eyes.

Spirit Refiners aren't true immortals. Even after comprehending the Dao and ascending to the King's Throne, while their lifespan increases, very few can live beyond two hundred years. The peak cultivation achievable within this lifespan is the "Dao Realm" of the King's Throne. Nearly all five individuals present were at this very stage. Within the Dao Realm of the King's Throne, success hinged entirely on the strength of the Dao one had comprehended and their mastery of it. Individuals like the two elders, whose comprehended Dao was merely average and whom they couldn't master, would likely live out their lives as they were, potentially facing their end and the dissipation of their Dao at any moment.

However, above the "Dao Realm," the situation was starkly different. A King's Throne who perceived the Great Dao's depths, successfully severed it, and entered the "Dao Severing Realm" not only experienced a significant leap in cultivation but also saw their lifespan increase by nearly tenfold. The old man before them had dared to address the two elders as "lads." Could he possibly be a King's Throne in the Dao Severing Realm?

Jiang Bianyan's gaze fell upon the old man's carrying pole, then drifted to the small axe at his waist. He couldn't help but swallow hard. He seemed to have found an answer and, with difficulty, asked, "Senior, are you... surnamed Cen?" Despite being from opposing factions, he had unconsciously used a term of respect, highlighting the immense shock Jiang Bianyan felt at that moment.

The old man's eyes immediately lit up. "You actually recognize me?"

The other four were utterly bewildered. They turned to Jiang Bianyan, completely at a loss. "Who is he?"

Jiang Bianyan took a deep breath, as if trying to compose himself from the internal shock. "Cen Qiaofu!"

The old man nodded approvingly, surprisingly offering no denial. The four were momentarily stunned before horror surged into their eyes.

"Is he Cen Qiaofu, from the legend of 'The Woodcutter and the Axe'?" Qiao Qianzhi unconsciously glanced at the small axe on the old man's waist. Although he was asking a question, he already knew the answer. As expected, when he saw Jiang Bianyan nod, his heart was swept by a torrent of emotions.

The world of Spirit Refiners was home to countless powerful individuals, yet truly legendary figures, those who would forever be etched in the world's memory, were exceedingly rare. "The Woodcutter and the Axe" was one such legend. Legend had it that Cen Qiaofu was originally an ordinary man who spent his entire life traversing mountains and forests, toiling for survival. His daily routine involved chopping wood and carrying water, a life he maintained for over a hundred years. At an age when he should have succumbed to old age, the old man suddenly achieved profound enlightenment. Overnight, he severed the Dao and ascended to the King's Throne, subsequently carving out his own legend with an iron axe and a carrying pole, astonishing the world.

In the lexicon of Spirit Refiners, this man had spent his entire life comprehending the Dao of the Mortal Realm, achieving peak cultivation the moment he began to practice. True geniuses were rare in the world; the Eighth Sword Immortal was one, and this old man's method of entering the Dao was absolutely unparalleled!

Upon learning the old man's identity, all four were filled with a sense of helplessness. This was unwinnable! This man's legend had been established hundreds of years prior. He was a true ancient figure. Not only could five people not defeat him, but even if their numbers doubled, they likely wouldn't be able to scratch this old man.

"Didn't Senior Cen retreat to the mountains again? Why is he appearing at the Spirit Palace gates?" Jiang Bianyan inquired.

"Haha," Cen Qiaofu chuckled heartily. "I did indeed retire to the mountains, but I couldn't withstand the cunning tactics of today's youth. They tricked and coaxed me, practically shanghaiing me onto this 'pirate ship'."

"So... the masked man invited you out of retirement?"

"Precisely."

Jiang Bianyan fell silent. He suddenly understood why Ye Xiaotian had barely reacted when he saw him arrive with two young people. After the previous plea for help, he had thought his individual presence alone would be more than sufficient. He had never anticipated the Spirit Palace's adversary this time would be so formidable. This wasn't merely an overestimation; it was a decisive slap in the face! Forget one Jiang Bianyan; even ten Jiang Bianyans wouldn't be confident enough to contend with this old man!

"Senior, have you truly joined the 'Sacred Slaves'?" he asked, still somewhat unwilling to accept it.

"Little fellow, there's no need to test me. When you return alive, relay this information to the Sacred Temple as swiftly as possible. Perhaps one day, I'll have to pay your headquarters a personal visit." Cen Qiaofu's expression was benevolent, yet his words were startling.

All five of their faces darkened. This was nothing short of a catastrophe! Unbeknownst to them, the "Sacred Slaves" had grown so vast that even a figure like Cen Qiaofu could be persuaded to emerge from retirement and fight on their behalf?

The old man ceased his jesting. He slammed his carrying pole into the ground once more, making the Spirit Palace's grand formation shimmer and ripple. "To be honest, I rarely take lives anymore. So, let's play a game..."

"What game?"

The five felt as if they were facing a formidable foe, their hairs bristling. Their vigilance reached its peak, and they missed no detail of their surroundings, not even the slightest rustle of wind or grass. If Cen Qiaofu were to make a move, a single strike would likely cripple half the people present.

"Ah, don't be so tense!" Seeing the five's reaction, the old man couldn't help but smile, quickly waving his hand as he said, "I bear no ill will, but I do have a task today. In short, all five of you, including any other King's Thrones who arrive... must remain here."

Everyone froze in surprise. A delaying tactic? Qiao Qianzhi and Xiao Qixiu exchanged a look, both sensing impending trouble. If this old man was merely a distraction, then who was spearheading the main assault? The answer was self-evident: The masked man!

"Sit down, all of you." Cen Qiaofu, oblivious to their tension, pulled out a redwood chessboard, then produced two boxes of black and white chess pieces, reminiscing: "This is a fine set I crafted myself years ago. Playing a single game can lead to enlightenment about the world. Since we're all idle anyway, why don't we play chess and chat?" He suddenly leaned on his staff, pondering, "Hmm... I feel like something is missing." Then his eyes lit up, and he asked, "Do any of you have melon seeds?"

The others were speechless. "Crack melon seeds and play chess"? The Spirit Palace was facing a dire catastrophe! Who had the time to sit around and let him dominate a board game?

The two hot-tempered elders immediately lost their composure. A true warrior could be killed but never humiliated, and they were being openly provoked. Who could possibly hold back? After exchanging a glance, both erupted with spiritual energy, instantly appearing on either side of Cen Qiaofu. After their encounter with the masked man that night, the elders had already assessed their own limitations. Yet, today, even if it meant a suicidal charge, they had to secure a glimmer of hope for the future generations of the Spirit Palace! As long as they could injure Cen Qiaofu, Xiao Qixiu could surely follow up. With his power as a Sword Dao King's Throne, fighting above his rank was...

*Thud! Thud!*

Cen Qiaofu swept his carrying pole, sending one man flying and burying the other into the ground, then let out a sigh. "Ah, youthful impetuousness..."

The group of black-clad figures behind him watched the scene, their eyelids twitching uncontrollably. An elder defeated in a single blow? How were they supposed to fight this? This old man was a monster! Even if their strengths weren't in the same minor realm, they were all King's Thrones. Surely, some respect should be given, a surge of spiritual energy displayed? That single carrying pole had truly left everyone dumbfounded.

Cen Qiaofu struck the ground once more with his pole, causing the Spirit Palace's grand formation to tremble. With each increasingly forceful strike, it seemed as though the next blow could directly shatter the grand formation.

Qiao Qianzhi's expression darkened; repairing the grand formation was no simple feat. "Senior, didn't you say you wouldn't attack? This grand formation..."

"It's merely a strategy to 'beat the bush to scare the snake'!" Cen Qiaofu waved his hand, casually remarking, "Don't worry, I won't shatter your grand formation. But I need to ensure people know there's a battle here, one that's intensifying, right? Otherwise, how would anyone else come to your aid?"

Everyone was petrified. So, the reason he had been periodically striking the grand formation from the very beginning was for *this*? Qiao Qianzhi felt a bitter ache in his heart, secretly praying that no one else would arrive, fearing that all would be inevitably drawn into this stalemate.

Just then, a short figure suddenly appeared, white hair flowing, emanating an imposing aura. "Who dares trespass here!"

Ye Xiaotian was utterly displeased. He had failed to subdue a mere junior Grandmaster earlier. This time, as long as the masked man wasn't the one at the Spirit Palace gates, he vowed to teach them a harsh lesson! Upon seeing the Dean arrive, everyone felt a surge of despair instead of relief; even their eyes dimmed. Ye Xiaotian was baffled. Had their morale been crushed to such an extent? He looked around, seeing no signs of a major battle... "What's wrong?"

"Another King's Throne?" Cen Qiaofu was delighted. He jabbed his carrying pole into the ground, and, holding the chessboard, squatted down. "Come, come, come, come play chess!"