The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

The Mo Clan ancestor's sword descended with deadly precision, slicing cleanly through Lianchen's body. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The room fell deathly silent as everyone watched, their eyes wide with shock, as blood sprayed into the air.

But then, realization struck like a thunderclap. 

It wasn't Lianchen's blood staining the air, it was the Mo Clan ancestor's own. His attack had rebounded, cutting through him instead.

Be it those from other empires or powerful organizations across the continent, all eyes were wide with shock. Before them stood Lianchen, utterly unscathed, wearing a relaxed smile as though he hadn't just been the target of a deadly attack.

The sword that had been poised to cut him down had somehow turned mid-strike, now buried deep in the Mo Clan ancestor's chest, piercing him clean through the heart.

The Mo Clan ancestor's eyes widened in disbelief. He staggered slightly, his gaze dropping to his chest, where his robes were slowly being soaked in his own blood. Trembling, he looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and horror, only to meet the calm, almost amused gaze of the boy before him.

Lianchen raised his hand casually and delivered a light slap to the Mo Clan ancestor's cheek, the gesture brimming with mockery.

"I quickly grasped the way of the sword," Lianchen said, his voice calm yet tinged with condescension. "And not just the sword, every weapon under the heavens. I am immune to them all, even the fist."

He shook his head slowly, his expression one of pity. "To stand before me and attack with such things… you're truly a fool."

A Saiyan's comprehension capabilities were truly extraordinary. This remarkable gift often manifested in their ability to replicate techniques after seeing them just once, and even refine or improve upon them mid-combat. While this innate talent shone brightest on the battlefield, it wasn't limited to combat alone.

In truth, Saiyans could apply their immense comprehension to any field they chose. However, their innate nature and passion for fighting meant they typically focused this gift on combat, the arena they cared for most deeply.

If a Saiyan put their mind to something, their ability to comprehend it was unparalleled. Even godly-tier abilities like Ultra Instinct, a technique so advanced that others could spend millions of years struggling to grasp its basics, could be mastered by a Saiyan in record time.

Take Goku, for example. How long did it take him to achieve Ultra Instinct during the Tournament of Power? A mere 44 minutes. While countless beings would falter under the sheer complexity of such a technique, a Saiyan's innate adaptability and talent turned the impossible into reality.

In the anime, Goku entered the Tournament of Power struggling with the basics, yet within just 44 minutes, he had unlocked a completely new transformation: Ultra Instinct. However, if you ask how long it took him to master the ability and use it at will, the answer is two years.

Two years. That's all it took for Goku to master a technique so advanced that Beerus, the God of Destruction, had spent millions of years attempting, and failing, to fully grasp. This stark contrast highlights the unparalleled adaptability and determination of a Saiyan, setting them apart even from the gods themselves.

Lianchen wasn't Goku, he was a Legendary Saiyan, a being capable of tapping into limitless potential with far greater ease. For him, mastering the way of the sword, along with every other weapon, in a single day was almost effortless.

Was this cheating? Of course, it was. But Lianchen didn't care about the fairness of it all. What mattered most to him was mastering control over his immense power as a Saiyan. That, above all, was his true priority.

"Come on, bark. You're about to die, say something for this prince," Lianchen mocked, his tone dripping with condescension.

The Mo Clan ancestor's body trembled with uncontainable rage, his hands clenched tightly as his fury consumed him. He opened his mouth, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all that emerged was a mouthful of blood.

The old man's body swayed, his strength failing him before he collapsed to the ground. The life drained from his being as the room fell into stunned silence, his once-commanding presence reduced to nothing.

'This boy… he's truly mastered the way of the sword. But… it's only been five days since his birthday party, where he held a sword for the first time…'

High above in the clouds, a young man with a massive sword strapped to his back floated silently. His gaze was sharp, fixed on the scene below, yet his presence was a paradox, unseen, unfelt, unsensed.

He was like a blade sheathed in the void, hidden from the world, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

'But he's only six years old and already so overbearing,' the young man thought, his gaze lingering on Lianchen. 'If left unchecked, his father's favoritism will only worsen his character. I'll speak with the others, we must bring him into the sect before it's too late.'

With that decision made, he vanished, his form dissolving into the air as if he had never been there. In the blink of an eye, he traversed thousands of miles, his purpose clear and unshakable.

Lan Mei's gaze lingered on the sky where the mysterious young man had disappeared, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. She then turned her attention back to Lianchen, who was now commanding the royal guards with an air of authority.

The scene was chaos as the guards moved swiftly, apprehending the remaining Mo Clan members. The charge? Treason. After all, their ancestor had just attempted to assassinate the prince, an act no one could overlook.

"Take them away," Lianchen commanded, his tone calm but firm. "I shall personally travel to the Mo Clan territory to conduct a thorough investigation."

As the royal guards began rounding up the Mo Clan members, Lianchen took it upon himself to approach each one, inspecting them for weapons. His movements were deliberate, his actions a calculated show of authority. To the Mo Clan members, however, it felt like yet another humiliation, a slap to the face they were powerless to resist.

They glared at him with murderous intent, their eyes burning with rage. But none dared make a move. Among the royal guards stood a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator at Level 5, silently watching over the proceedings. His presence was a clear reminder of the consequences should anyone act out.

Yet, even the Nascent Soul cultivator wore a speechless expression he was doing his best to mask. His young master's antics left him baffled, but he remained silent, knowing better than to interfere.

Lan Mei was utterly speechless. Under everyone's watchful gazes, Lianchen casually removed the storage rings from the Mo Clan members, using the pretense of patting them down for weapons as his cover. His movements were so smooth and practiced that none of them even noticed they were being robbed in broad daylight.

Her lips twitched as she struggled to maintain her composure, watching Lianchen boldly pocket his spoils without the slightest flicker of guilt. Most of the onlookers failed to notice his sleight of hand, but those who did were left dumbfounded, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the sheer audacity of this child's actions.

Now richer than he had been mere moments ago, Lianchen stood calmly, watching as the Mo Clan members were escorted away under heavy guard. His expression remained unreadable, but a glimmer of satisfaction flickered in his eyes.

Then, with a deliberate turn, his gaze shifted to the Su and Lu Clans. His eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating, as he regarded them. The weight of his scrutiny was enough to send a chill down their spines, leaving them uneasy under the unrelenting focus of the young prince.