William Carter remained silent, which made the burly man in brown mistake him for a guilty thief. The seven people in the restaurant had gathered here to cooperate on a certain matter, but their relationships were rather ambiguous, maintaining a subtle balance. Although no one had made a move, their auras were clashing, each testing the other’s strength. The appearance of William Carter was nothing less than a disruption of this balance. The first to act was the burly man in brown, who was at the greatest disadvantage in this contest of presence.

His move was partly to vent the mental pressure he was under, and partly to use the opportunity to avoid further aura clashes with the other six. Although William Carter's martial arts had advanced rapidly, like a nouveau riche, he was completely oblivious to the subtle undercurrents at play.

If it had been someone with slightly weaker martial arts, they wouldn’t have lasted two sentences before being forced by the others’ auras to suffer internal injuries and spit blood, driven out of the establishment. On the other hand, a martial arts master who had steadily cultivated to the innate secret realm would have immediately sensed the subtleties, either avoiding the sharpness or launching a counterattack, never remaining clueless like an idiot.

But William Carter, this oddball, was neither affected by the others’ auras nor displayed any demeanor of a master. He even sat down and called out for food and drink.

The burly man in brown was renowned for his martial arts, his reputation shaking the lands north and south of the Yangtze. Although he couldn’t figure out William Carter’s background, he didn’t care in the slightest. With a step that was both fast and slow, just as William Carter drew a pair of bamboo chopsticks and was about to call for tea and food, he suddenly felt a mountain-like pressure descend upon him.

The burly man in brown hadn’t even struck yet, but he had already sealed off every possibility of William Carter’s counterattack. Such skill was enough to run rampant across the world.

Before William Carter’s mind could react, his hand unhesitatingly jabbed with a chopstick. By sheer coincidence, it struck the only flaw in the burly man’s footwork. The burly man was startled, shouted loudly, and struck down with one palm, while his other hand formed a strange magical gesture, changing endlessly. In an instant, he unleashed both martial arts and magic simultaneously. The mere ability to combine these two unrelated disciplines placed the burly man among the top twenty masters of the time.

Crack! A crisp sound rang out.

No matter how the burly man changed his moves, William Carter’s strike was a stroke of genius, easily breaking through the opponent’s palm force. However, William Carter ultimately lacked experience and couldn’t gauge the intricacies of the opponent’s power, so the counterforce snapped his bamboo chopstick. Meanwhile, the burly man’s spell summoned a torrent of water from the ground, perfectly covering his own flaw and forcing William Carter to switch from offense to defense.

After his chopstick strike, William Carter still felt a bit dazed. When the chopstick broke, he vaguely sensed that if he could have followed up with another finger strike, he would have made the opponent spit blood. But what he imagined and the changes in his moves simply wouldn’t merge. By the time he struck again, he was already a step too late.

As the burly man’s spell counterattacked, William Carter’s brow furrowed, and a wisp of black energy faintly appeared. He threw a delayed punch, which suddenly surged in power. The force of his fist split the air with a crisp crackling sound, shattering the water flow controlled by the burly man into a spray of droplets that rained down between William Carter and the burly man.

Even William Carter himself was both shocked and delighted by this outcome. He hadn’t expected his skills to have improved so much in just one night.

The others were also greatly surprised, unable to fathom how this disheveled Little Priest could be so formidable.

“Young Daoist, to be able to break the Penglai Sect’s East Sea Dragon Command, you must not be an unknown figure. May I ask under whose tutelage you study? I must admit I have never heard of you. When did such a young master appear in the world, and why have you become a lackey for the Mongol Yuan court? I hope you can enlighten me.”

Although the speaker’s words were laced with sarcasm, his tone was extremely refined, calm yet with a hint of sincerity. William Carter knew the other was covertly insulting him, but somehow couldn’t get angry.

The young man in brocade, though seated at the center of the room, gave others a sense of being ethereal and elusive. If he hadn’t just spoken, William Carter might have turned around and forgotten he’d ever met such a person.

William Carter casually tossed aside the half-broken bamboo chopstick in his hand and said loudly, “How did I become a lackey for the Yuan Mongols again? That’s a strange thing to say! Does eating here mean I’ve committed some heinous crime? Aren’t you all lingering here as well?”

“You talk too much, little Daoist!”

The burly man in brown, having missed with his strike, didn’t lose face, but considering his status, he didn’t want to keep entangling. He withdrew, letting the young man in brocade take over, and simply said, “If we can’t agree, even half a sentence is too much.” He raised his index finger slightly—hiss! The wind whistled. A gust of finger wind shot straight at William Carter’s chest.

At this critical moment, an inexplicable clarity arose in William Carter’s mind. His consciousness suddenly split in two: one part felt a mysterious, unfathomable sensation toward this simple finger strike, as if the opponent’s force was beyond the three realms and utterly irresistible; the other part, however, saw through every change in the finger force, understanding it completely, as if he could anticipate every move the opponent would make.