Chương 586: Chapter 447: Clash Of Convictions

A Clash of Convictions wasn't something undertaken lightly, even by someone of the City Lord's cultivation level. The spiritual techniques required to properly conduct such a confrontation demanded absolute precision and unwavering commitment to one's own worldview. Any hesitation, any moment of doubt, and the entire framework of beliefs that sustained his power could come crashing down.

"Very well," Feng Zhaoyang said, his voice carrying the formal authority required for such proceedings.

"Let the ancient rites be observed." He began gathering his Xuan Yi, but not for attack or defense. Instead, he was weaving it into the complex spiritual matrix that would allow their opposing worldviews to clash directly, without the interference of normal reality. The technique was called "Chamber of Absolute Truth," and it created a pocket dimension where pure belief could confront pure belief without external distraction.

Golden light began emanating from Feng Zhaoyang's body as his World-Writ Sovereign cultivation manifested the ritual space. The abandoned shrine around them shimmered and faded, replaced by an infinite white void that stretched in all directions. Here, there were no trees to offer comfort, no rocks to provide stability, no external influences to cloud the purity of their confrontation. Just two men and their fundamental understanding of reality.

Du Yanze stood calmly in the center of the void, his phantom crown still floating above his head despite the transition. The sight troubled Feng Zhaoyang more than he cared to admit. By all rights, a Disbeliever shouldn't have been able to maintain such a clear symbol of belief-based cultivation within the Chamber of Absolute Truth.

"The rules are simple," Feng Zhaoyang explained, though he suspected Du Yanze already understood them.

"We each present our understanding of the true nature of reality. We defend our position against challenge and criticism. The one whose worldview proves more consistent, more complete, more aligned with fundamental truth, will emerge victorious."

"And the loser?" Du Yanze asked, though his tone suggested the question was rhetorical.

"The loser will have their perspective completely replaced by the winner's. If I lose, I become what you are. If you lose, you return to proper belief." Feng Zhaoyang paused, studying the young man's reaction.

"Are you prepared for that possibility? To once again embrace the very concepts you've rejected?" Du Yanze smiled, and there was something genuinely peaceful about the expression.

"I'm prepared for whatever truth emerges from this conversation, City Lord. The question is: are you?" The casual confidence in that response sent the first chill of unease through Feng Zhaoyang's mind, but he pushed the feeling aside. Three centuries of successful rule, three centuries of seeing his beliefs validated by reality itself, couldn't be wrong. Whatever corruption had taken hold of Du Yanze, whatever delusions he'd embraced, they would crumble before properly grounded conviction.

"I'll begin," Feng Zhaoyang declared, allowing his spiritual pressure to flow into the void around them.

"I speak for the Dao of Belief, the fundamental truth that shapes our realm and gives meaning to existence itself." The white space around them began to shift, taking on the golden hue of his Xuan Yi as he imposed his understanding onto their shared environment.

Images began forming in the air between them: scenes of cultivators achieving impossible feats through sheer conviction, cities rising from nothing because their builders believed in their vision, entire landscapes reshaping themselves to accommodate the will of those with sufficient faith in their own destiny.

"Look around you," Feng Zhaoyang said, gesturing to the manifesting visions.

"Everything worthwhile in our realm exists because someone believed it should exist. Every advancement in cultivation, every triumph over adversity, every moment of genuine transcendence—all of it comes from the power of unshakeable conviction."

The images shifted to show the great cultivators of history: Patriarch Zhou, who had carved mountains with his bare hands because he believed no obstacle could stand before him; Empress Li, who had united warring clans through the sheer force of her conviction that peace was possible; the legendary formation master Wan, who had created the great defensive arrays protecting their major cities because he refused to accept that anything was impossible.

"The Dao of Belief teaches us that reality is mutable, subject to the will of those with sufficient faith in their own potential," Feng Zhaoyang continued, his voice growing stronger as he warmed to his subject.

"When we truly believe in our destiny, when we embrace our role as chosen ones in the great tapestry of existence, we gain the power to reshape the world according to our vision." He turned to Du Yanze, his eyes blazing with golden light.

"This is why Disbelievers are so dangerous. Not because they're powerful in their own right, but because they seek to convince others that this fundamental truth is a lie. They spread the poison of doubt, undermining the very foundation that allows cultivation to exist." Du Yanze listened to this lengthy exposition with the patience of someone genuinely interested in understanding an opposing viewpoint. When Feng Zhaoyang finished, he nodded thoughtfully.

"That's a beautiful philosophy," Du Yanze said, and to Feng Zhaoyang's surprise, he seemed to mean it.

"I can see why it appeals to so many people. The idea that conviction alone can overcome any obstacle, that believing in yourself strongly enough makes you capable of anything, it's inspiring." The City Lord felt a moment of hope. Perhaps the corruption wasn't as deep as he'd feared. Perhaps there was still enough of the original Du Yanze left to recognize the truth when it was properly presented.

"But," Du Yanze continued, and that single word sent ice through Feng Zhaoyang's veins, "I think there's a fundamental flaw in your understanding." The golden light filling the void began to flicker as Du Yanze's own spiritual pressure started manifesting.

"You're conflating two entirely different concepts," Du Yanze said, his voice carrying the calm authority of someone stating a mathematical proof.

"You're treating 'belief based on evidence and experience' as if it's the same thing as 'belief based on wishful thinking and self-deception.'" Images began forming in the air around Du Yanze, but they were fundamentally different from Feng Zhaoyang's grandiose historical visions.

These were smaller, more intimate scenes: a farmer carefully observing which seeds grew best in different soils; a craftsman testing various techniques until he found the ones that produced the highest quality work; a healer studying the effects of different herbs on various ailments.

"True belief," Du Yanze said, "comes from understanding. When that farmer plants his crops, he believes they'll grow, not because he has faith in his own specialness, but because he's observed the natural process countless times. When the craftsman begins a new project, he believes he can complete it. not because destiny favors him, but because he's developed genuine skill through practice and study." Feng Zhaoyang felt his first moment of genuine uncertainty.

The argument was more sophisticated than he'd expected, more grounded in observable reality. But he'd faced philosophical challenges before, and he knew how to respond.

"You're describing ordinary achievement," Feng Zhaoyang countered, allowing his golden light to reassert itself.

"What you call 'natural process' is simply the manifestation of lesser levels of belief. The farmer succeeds because he has faith in the cycles of growth, the craftsman completes his work because he believes in his own competence. These are still examples of conviction shaping reality." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Are they?" Du Yanze asked, and his tone carried a note of genuine curiosity rather than confrontation.

"Or are they examples of people working within natural laws that exist independently of their personal beliefs?" New images began manifesting around Du Yanze, and these struck directly at the heart of Feng Zhaoyang's worldview. Scenes of cultivators failing despite absolute conviction, of techniques that refused to work regardless of how strongly the practitioner believed in them, of reality stubbornly refusing to bend to even the most passionate faith.

"Consider the cultivation failures," Du Yanze said, his voice remaining calm and reasonable.

"Every year, thousands of young cultivators enter sects absolutely convinced they're destined for greatness. They believe in themselves completely, often more strongly than those who actually succeed. Yet most of them never advance beyond the early stages. Why?" Feng Zhaoyang had ready answers for this, of course.

"Because their belief isn't pure enough, isn't deep enough. True conviction requires more than surface-level confidence; it demands fundamental transformation of one's understanding of reality."

"So, failure is always the fault of insufficient belief?" Du Yanze pressed gently.

"Never the result of attempting something that simply can't be done?"

"Nothing is impossible for those with sufficient faith," Feng Zhaoyang replied automatically, but even as he spoke the words, he felt a strange hollow sensation in his chest.

"Really?" Du Yanze tilted his head slightly.

"Then tell me, City Lord, have you ever witnessed a mortal leap directly to the Self-Crowned Sovereign realm through pure belief alone? Bypassing all the intermediate stages, all the years of cultivation, simply by believing strongly enough in their own importance?" The question made Feng Zhaoyang pause. In three centuries of life, he had never seen such a thing. Every cultivator he'd known, including himself, had advanced gradually through the stages.

Even the most talented prodigies required years to progress from one realm to the next.

"That's... that's different," he said weakly.

"Cultivation advancement requires proper foundation building, understanding of spiritual principles..."

"Ah," Du Yanze said softly.

"So, you do acknowledge that there are rules governing cultivation. Laws that must be followed regardless of how strongly someone believes they can be broken." Feng Zhaoyang felt a surge of desperation as he recognized the trap closing around him.

"No, wait; those aren't limitations on belief itself, they're simply... optimal pathways that belief can follow. The stages exist because they represent the most efficient way to channel conviction into power."

"Really?" Du Yanze's voice remained calm.

"Then can you bring the dead back to life simply by refusing to accept their demise?"

"That's not—""Can you absorb the cultivation of others by believing you deserve their power more than they do?"

"Those examples—""Can you leave this world by believing strongly enough in your ability to escape reality?" Each question hit like a physical blow. Feng Zhaoyang found himself struggling to maintain the golden light of his Xuan Yi as doubt began creeping in around the edges of his consciousness.

"Those examples are irrelevant," he was finally able to cut in, but his voice lacked its previous conviction.

"No one would attempt such impossible things."

"Why not?" Du Yanze asked with maddening simplicity.

"If belief truly shapes reality without limitation, why should anything be impossible? What's the difference between moving a mountain with conviction, which we both agree is possible, and reversing the flow of time itself with the same conviction?" Feng Zhaoyang opened his mouth to explain the obvious difference, then closed it again as he realized he couldn't articulate what that difference actually was. In the philosophy he'd spent his whole life defending, scale shouldn't matter.

If conviction could accomplish one impossible thing, it should be able to accomplish any impossible thing.

"The difference," he said slowly, grasping for an explanation that made sense, "is that some things align with the natural order while others don't."

"Ah," Du Yanze said, and there was something almost gentle in his tone.

"So, you do acknowledge that there's a natural order. Laws and principles that exist independently of personal belief." The void around them began shifting again, but this time the change felt different. Less like the imposition of one worldview over another, and more like the gradual revelation of something that had always been there.

"So, when cultivators succeed," Du Yanze continued, "they're not actually overriding natural laws through sheer conviction. They're learning to work with deeper principles that they didn't previously understand. Their 'belief' is really just confidence in patterns they've observed and techniques they've practiced." Feng Zhaoyang felt the foundation of his understanding beginning to crack.

"But what about the great cultivators? The legendary figures who achieved impossible feats?"

"Were their feats actually impossible?" Du Yanze asked.

"Or were they simply very difficult things that required exceptional skill, knowledge, and perhaps access to resources or techniques that aren't widely available?" More images manifested around Du Yanze, and these were the most damaging yet. They showed the legendary cultivators Feng Zhaoyang had referenced earlier, but in a different light. Patriarch Zhou hadn't carved mountains through pure faith; he'd discovered advanced earth manipulation techniques lost to modern cultivators.

Empress Li hadn't united the clans through conviction alone; she'd been a brilliant diplomat and strategist who understood how to appeal to each group's specific interests. Formation Master Wan hadn't created his arrays by believing impossibility was possible; he'd spent decades studying the flow of spiritual energy and developing innovative applications of well-established principles.

"Every achievement you attributed to faith," Du Yanze said, "actually comes from knowledge, skill, and hard work. The 'belief' these figures possessed wasn't mystical conviction in their own chosenness; it was rational confidence in their understanding of how things actually work." The golden light surrounding Feng Zhaoyang began to flicker more dramatically. He could feel his Xuan Yi becoming unstable as the fundamental assumptions underlying his cultivation started to unravel.

"But without belief in one's destiny," he protested weakly, "why would anyone attempt such difficult achievements? What provides the motivation to persist through countless failures?"

"The same thing that motivates the farmer to plant crops year after year," Du Yanze replied.

"The satisfaction of meaningful work, the desire to improve themselves and help others, the simple pleasure of understanding how things work. Purpose doesn't require delusions of cosmic specialness." Feng Zhaoyang staggered as another wave of doubt crashed through his spiritual foundation. The void around them was becoming clearer, less influenced by golden light, more like simple empty space where two people could speak honestly without the interference of imposed beliefs.

"You're suggesting," Feng Zhaoyang said, his voice barely above a whisper, "that everything I've built, everything our realm represents, is based on a fundamental misunderstanding."

"I'm suggesting," Du Yanze said gently, "that you've confused the map with the territory. Belief in your own capability is useful when it's based on genuine knowledge and experience. But belief in your own cosmic importance, your divine chosenness, your special destiny—that's just elaborate self-deception."

The images around them shifted one final time, showing the current state of their realm: cultivators so obsessed with their own significance that they couldn't see the world around them clearly; rulers making decisions based on grandiose delusions rather than practical wisdom; entire communities trapped in cycles of competition and conflict because everyone believed they deserved to be the protagonist of reality itself.

"Look at what this philosophy has created," Du Yanze said, and there was genuine sadness in his voice.

"A world where everyone is so convinced of their own specialness that they can't work together effectively. Where failure is always blamed on insufficient belief rather than poor planning or unrealistic goals. Where people waste their lives chasing impossible dreams instead of pursuing achievable improvements." Feng Zhaoyang fell to his knees as the full weight of the revelation crashed down on him. He could see it now, could see the truth that had been hidden beneath centuries of elaborate self-justification.

His rule hadn't been successful because he was chosen by destiny; it had been successful because he'd inherited a stable political system and had the good sense not to disrupt it unnecessarily. His cultivation advancement hadn't come from pure conviction; it had come from access to excellent techniques, experienced teachers, and vast resources. His "divine authority" wasn't recognition from the heavens; it was the result of fear, habit, and his own ability to impose his will through superior power.

The golden Xuan Yi that had defined his existence for three centuries began dissolving, but as it faded, something else took its place. A different kind of spiritual pressure, lighter, happier, and strangely liberating. The pressure of someone who could see through illusions, who could deny the validity of false beliefs, who could strip away comforting lies to reveal uncomfortable truths. Disbeliever spiritual pressure.

"I've been a fool," Feng Zhaoyang whispered.

"We've all been fools, dancing to the tune of our own delusions, convincing ourselves that our self-importance made us special." Du Yanze knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Knowledge isn't foolishness, City Lord. You've learned something important today. The question is: what will you do with that knowledge?" The void around them began to fade as the Clash of Convictions reached its natural conclusion. But Feng Zhaoyang barely noticed the transition back to the abandoned shrine. His mind was reeling with the implications of what he'd discovered, the vast scope of the changes that would be necessary if he was going to live according to this new understanding.

Everything would have to be reconsidered. His rule, his relationships, his entire approach to cultivation and existence itself. But for the first time in his long life, Feng Zhaoyang felt like he was finally seeing clearly. The Clash of Convictions was over.