However, Charles would never so easily trust this person's words. He only sneered inwardly—this man could draw him into this ten-zhang-wide space, yet his true body remained in his own chamber; clearly, his powers were vast! Who knew if, beyond this, he had other means or methods to probe his secrets? It was said that those Daoist immortals possessed the art of reading souls.

If he were to believe so easily, he would truly be a fool!

Yet nothing showed on his face; tilting his head, he wore an expression of half-belief, half-doubt: “It does sound convincing. You even know all this—are you really me from thirty years in the future? But why are you here? And how could you come from thirty years ahead to now? How did you do it?”

“How did I do it?”

That Prince An, Charles, his gaze flickered, revealing a hint of strange brilliance and a trace of pride: “Thirty years from now, you, Charles, wield the invincible eight-foot-long Evil Sakura Spear, your archery is unfailingly accurate, and with the might of the world’s number one, you seize the supreme treasure, the Xuanxu Heavenly Pearl—naturally, you can trace back the past. As for why I came to the present, it is simply because my heart is not reconciled—”

Charles felt secretly amused, almost bursting out laughing. Invincible in the world? Was he talking about Charles?

This was simply too ridiculous. He knew his own situation best. Originally, his talent was considered decent—he could rank in the top ten in all of Xianyang. But ever since an accident at age ten ruined one of his martial meridians, he had no hope left in martial arts for the rest of his life.

Outwardly, he was known as one of the Four Evils of the Capital, infamous and feared. But in private, people had another name for him—the foremost of the Four Wastes of Xianyang!

Invincible in the world thirty years later! This guy’s lies were just too clumsy! Did he really think he would believe him?

“But as I recall, the current number one in the world is King Wu, Fuchai? Some say that if he had another twenty years, his martial arts could reach the Emperor Heaven rank. In four hundred years, there would be no rival on earth.”

In today’s world, because ‘Mojia’ techniques were in vogue, immortal arts had declined and martial arts flourished. Martial arts were divided into nine ranks: Martial Disciple, Martial Practitioner, Martial Soldier, Martial Master, Martial Captain, Martial Lord, Martial Marquis, Martial Monarch, and Martial Venerable.

Above the ninth-rank Martial Venerable were the Heaven Ranks—Lesser Heaven, Middle Heaven, Greater Heaven, Profound Heaven, Authority Heaven, and the legendary Emperor Heaven and Sovereign Heaven.

There was also a division of nine martial grades, used by the court for selecting officials, though it was not popular among the common folk.

The Fuchai he spoke of was an invincible being at the Authority Heaven rank. There were over a hundred Authority Heaven rankers in the world, but none could rival this overlord.

As for himself, Charles, before his martial meridian was crippled at age ten, he was only a lowly fourth-rank Martial Master.

“But he died later.”

Prince An, Charles, spoke in a calm tone, as if recounting a trivial matter: “Nineteen years later, King Wu, Fuchai, due to carelessness, died at the hands of Chu’s George Washington. Ten years after that, heroes rose across the land, and those with hopes of reaching Emperor Heaven were too many to count. Though Fuchai was strong, he could no longer suppress the world’s talents.”

Charles laughed: “Since Fuchai died at the hands of George Washington, then where is this George Washington now?”

He had never even heard of this Chu’s George Washington.

“Twenty-five years later, he committed suicide by the banks of the Wu River.” The young man opposite added a few comments after speaking: “In terms of talent, he was truly the best in the world. He reached Emperor Heaven at forty, and besides you, only a handful could rival him. Unfortunately, on the battlefield, it’s not just about martial strength. He, like Fuchai, was too arrogant.”

Listening to this nonsense, Charles thought to himself: so it was only after this George Washington died in battle that I became invincible? The story was made up quite convincingly.

Shaking his head, Charles continued to ask, “But if you really became the number one in the world, why would you still feel dissatisfied?”

If he truly became number one, he could kill whoever he wanted, beat up whoever he pleased, and wouldn’t even need to care about those emperors—he could be as happy as he wished. Why bother going back to the past?

“Simply because there were too many regrets.”

In Prince An Charles’s eyes appeared an indescribable pain: “You, Charles, are fated to loneliness all your life. Your parents died early, all your friends and family were slaughtered, your beloved wife and eldest daughter died because of you. Though you ruled Western Qin, you were left all alone; though invincible, life felt worse than death, the pain unbearable. Foreign tribes brought disaster, the nation weakened, the army fought for ten years, always stretched thin, leaving you exhausted. Loyal ministers and famous generals under your command withered away one after another because your fighting spirit waned. At that time, the Xuanxu Heavenly Pearl appeared, and you thought, rather than living on in such confusion and meaninglessness, it would be better to start over from the beginning—”

The sorrow in his words made Charles’s hair stand on end. Yet he felt little emotion. Ever since this person claimed that he would one day be invincible with the Evil Sakura Spear, he had written him off as a madman.

It was true his parents were dead, but as for friends and family, besides his grandfather, sworn brother and sister, and a few dog-meat friends he cared about, he didn’t give a damn about anyone else—why should he care whether they lived or died?