Perhaps because the fourth match had been so shocking, the bouts that followed felt lackluster by comparison. Before long, the entire morning had passed. In the first match of the afternoon, Lan Ge would finally take the stage.
Throughout the lunch break, he and Fa Hua had analyzed No. 58 in detail. But the man had revealed very little. Everything about him seemed deceptively simple.
“You could try asking Grand Marshal Lei. Or the Grand Elder,” Fa Hua suggested.
Lan Ge shook his head. “During the Grand Competition, everyone stands on their own. At a time like this, the Grand Elder won’t tell me anything. I tried to see him yesterday—I wasn’t even allowed in. I’ll have to rely on myself.”
“Then good luck,” Fa Hua said lightly.
Lan Ge shot him a glare. “Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this?”
“I’m not.” Fa Hua shook his head.
Lan Ge paused, momentarily thrown off. He’d expected something far less sincere.
“Give it your all,” Fa Hua added, his tone turning serious. “This was your father’s will.”
Lan Ge went still. He drew in a deep breath, then nodded slowly. No matter who his opponent was, he couldn’t afford to lose.
“Match twenty-one: Number sixty-seven versus number ninety-four,” the referee announced.
Number sixty-seven was Lan Ge.
He removed his cloak and stepped toward the arena. Almost immediately, someone in the crowd recognized him.
“Lan Ge—it’s Lan Ge! He hasn’t appeared in so long—it’s really him! Ah! Our prince has returned.”
“Your Highness!”
“Lan Ge! Lan Ge!”
The cheers swelled, louder even than when Grand Marshal Lei Mingyang had taken the stage that morning. As the prince, Lan Ge was deeply loved in Thunder City.
Once, those cheers would have thrilled him.
Now, his eyes reddened.
This was home.
He was finally back.
In that moment, something within him settled. The urge to run—to avoid everything—fell away. Thunder City needed him. He couldn’t keep hiding. Some things simply could not be escaped.
Taking a steady breath, Lan Ge stepped forward and ascended the arena, one step at a time. His aura began to shift, rising steadily.
No elemental power visibly spilled forth.
Yet the air itself grew restless.
Around him, an invisible wind stirred—his Four Elements quietly gathering.
His opponent, Number ninety-four, was a tall young man. At the sight of Lan Ge, he froze for a brief moment before quickly regaining his composure and releasing his own Elemental Clouds.
Seven.
Seven Lightning Clouds hovered behind his head.
At twenty-nine, Feng Tang had once been one of Lan Ge’s chief rivals, though he had lost to him in their youth. Since then, he had trained relentlessly. A fortunate encounter within the Elemental Sea had accelerated his growth, and he had only recently broken through to the Seventh Rank.
He had entered this competition without much confidence.
But facing Lan Ge?
That was a different matter.
A few years ago, Lan Ge had only been Fifth Rank. Even with progress, he couldn’t have advanced that far… could he?
“Long time no see, Lan Ge,” Feng Tang said, forcing a smile.
Lan Ge glanced at him. “Oh—it’s you. Xiao Feng.”
“Your Highness,” Feng Tang said stiffly, “I’m older than you.”
Lan Ge smiled faintly. “Right. Then Old Feng.”
Feng Tang’s expression froze. “Referee, I request the match begin.”
The referee glanced between them before announcing, “Begin.”
“Wait.”
Lan Ge raised a hand.
Both Feng Tang and the referee looked at him in confusion.
“Your Highness?” the referee prompted.
Lan Ge smiled. “I just want to say one thing.”
He turned toward the crowd.
“I’m back.”
As he spoke, a violet Lightning Cloud ignited behind him. Then another.
Feng Tang didn’t interrupt. He stared, eyes fixed, watching closely. The number of Elemental Clouds would reveal everything.
Lan Ge flashed a bright grin toward the audience. “Long time no see. I, Lan Ge… am back.”
He bowed deeply. Behind him, six Lightning Clouds had already formed.
Sixth Rank?
Feng Tang exhaled sharply in relief. If that was all—he could win.
Lan Ge held the bow for several seconds as the crowd erupted, the cheers—especially from the women—reaching a fever pitch.
Then he slowly straightened, his expression turning solemn.
“I won’t disappoint you.”
Despite the roaring crowd, his voice carried clearly to every corner.
And in that instant, three more Elemental Clouds burst into existence beside the original six.
Nine.
All nine circled behind him.
The elements themselves seemed to sing. A low, resonant hum filled the air as the sky gradually turned violet.
The Lightning Clouds shifted—becoming cyan. A gentle wind swept through the arena.
“I pray for favorable winds in Thunder City,” Lan Ge said softly.
His body turned cyan as nine Wind Clouds took form.
“I pray for timely rains.”
The clouds shifted again—turning deep blue. A fine drizzle fell from above.
“I have returned. Thunder City’s Lan Ge… has returned!”
The clouds turned crimson. Four colors surged skyward, intertwining into a radiant vortex that shot into the heavens, illuminating the entire palace square in brilliant light.
“Lan Ge…!”
“Lan Ge!!”
No one questioned how he had reached the Ninth Rank. They didn’t need to.
They had seen it.
Lan Ge had returned.
Their prince had returned.
And he now stood at the peak of humanity.
Ninth Rank.
Feng Tang turned and walked away. The moment the Elemental Clouds began to shift, he knew. There was no point. He didn’t even qualify as a supporting figure in this story.
The gap between them… was absolute.
You really love showing off, Fa Hua’s voice echoed in Lan Ge’s mind.
Lan Ge smiled. You don’t get it. This is a persuasion tactic—no need to fight and ruin the mood. I’m back.
This time, when he said it, Fa Hua understood.
Lan Ge truly had returned.
The carefree, idealistic boy who once longed for the wider world… was back.
The grief was gone.
In its place stood clarity.
For Thunder City.
For the Blue Domain.
He had to stand.
Not because of duty.
Not because of obligation.
But because this—was what he wanted.
This match ended without a single blow exchanged. And it told the entire city one thing: their prince had reached the Ninth Rank.
Lan Ge stepped down from the arena and returned to Fa Hua, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go home. The palace.”
He had made up his mind.
There was no running anymore.
Only facing forward.
And becoming the person his parents would have wanted to see.
The crowd parted for them, the cheers unending. They weren’t just witnessing a Ninth-Rank expert. They were witnessing hope.
Lan Xiang had raised Thunder City to greatness. And now his son had the power to carry it forward.
From the palace square to the main gates was only a short walk. This time, Lan Ge didn’t hesitate. He strode forward.
“Your Highness!”
The palace guards snapped to attention, saluting with visible excitement.
“Thank you for your service,” Lan Ge said quietly as he passed.
“Wait.”
A voice cut in.
A figure stepped forward, blocking their path.
“Grand Elder?” Lan Ge frowned slightly.
The Grand Elder’s expression flickered—just for a moment—before settling.
“You cannot return to the palace yet.”
Lan Ge blinked. “Why not? This is my home.”
“Have you forgotten the meaning of this competition?” the Grand Elder said firmly. “Until you become the Lord of Thunder City, you cannot return openly. It would invite criticism. Right now, your only task is to win.”
Lan Ge frowned. “Of course I’ll win. But until a new lord is chosen, this is still my home. Why can’t I return?”
“You must set an example,” the Grand Elder said patiently. “Leave no room for criticism. The competition will only last a few days. Stay with me for now. Once you win—and are formally named Lord of Thunder City—you may return with full legitimacy.”
Lan Ge let out a short breath. “You seem awfully confident in me. That Number 58… he’s strong. I’m not even sure I can beat him. What if I lose? …Shouldn’t I at least be allowed to sort through my parents’ belongings first?”