Early in the morning, the news of the battle had spread like wildfire.

What had begun as a whispered rumor between the old dean and two experts quickly transformed into an open war between the Mystic Path Academy and an unknown force.

But with each passing minute, the story was growing beyond recognition.

Some exaggerated it so much that they claimed hundreds of Expert Realm cultivators had descended upon the academy, only to be faced by the old dean alone, who defeated them without so much as a scratch.

Of course, the powerful clans knew the truth behind the attack.

Yet, no one dared to speak recklessly.

The City Lord did not hesitate.

He immediately deployed hundreds of guards to patrol the streets', ensuring order was maintained.

For any hidden master realm cultivators, the Mystic Path Academy deployed five masters to patrol the city in disguise.

The meaning was clear to everyone.

Since the old dean had made his stand plain, the academy was no longer neutral.

They had chosen a side—but the side they chose was something no one expected.

A previous trash of the Jun aristocrat clan.

Who would have believed it?

Many doubted the news at first, but when they recalled the heavenly blessing that had descended during the open lecture, all doubts melted away.

The dean's decision became clear as a day.

After all, who wouldn't support Heaven's Chosen?

….

While the city buzzed with rumors and speculation, Jun Wu was hard at work in his mansion.

The events of yesterday had taught him a harsh truth—his enemies were not going to play by the book. They would come at him in any way they could, shameless and underhanded.

Walking slowly around the grounds, Jun Wu planted Mortal Grade Swords into the earth at precise locations.

Each blade sank into the soil with a soft thrum, forming invisible connections that only an array master would notice.

In the distance, Hao Ran and Elder Peng watched with furrowed brows, confusion etched on their faces.

"Master, what is the Young Master doing?" Hao Ran finally asked, unable to contain himself, his gaze flicking toward Elder Peng.

Elder Peng stroked his beard thoughtfully before answering. "I suspect the Young Master is setting up an array formation."

His words were steady, but his expression betrayed uncertainty. He had followed Jun Wu for some time now, yet this was the first time he had seen him arrange an array in such a bizarre fashion—using swords as nodes.

Minutes later, Zhang Wei and Xinyue returned from the market, carrying heavy boxes.

"Is the Young Master still not done?" Zhang Wei asked curiously, tilting his head as he watched Jun Wu plant the final sword.

No one answered.

Their attention remained fixed on Jun Wu, whose every movement carried purpose.

When the last blade was in place, Jun Wu turned and approached them with calm, measured steps.

"Did you get all the materials?" he asked, his voice even but expectant.

"Yes, Young Master," Zhang Wei replied quickly.

"What about Mao Yun? Has he completed the mission?"

"I don't know. I've yet to hear from him," Zhang Wei admitted.

"Alright," Jun Wu nodded, then turned to Elder Peng. "Elder Peng, I need your assistance."

"Whatever you require, Young Master," Elder Peng said at once. His tone carried no hesitation.

The air grew heavy. Everyone could sense the seriousness of the matter. Even without knowing all the details, they were eager to contribute in whatever way they could.

Just as Jun Wu prepared to leave, he paused and glanced at Zhang Wei. "Send a message to Wei Jiang. I want to know about the second visitor from yesterday."

The old dean had killed the Gong clan expert, and his identity was already known.

But as for the second expert, no information about him and men had been found yet.

….

Tens of kilometers away from Mystic City, in a secluded village surrounded by thick forest, three hundred men young and old underwent grueling training.

This training was unlike the traditional cultivation training.

Bare-chested, their bodies glistening with sweat, they strained their muscles, lifted heavy logs, ran with sandbags strapped to their backs, and sparred until their voices hoarse cries filled the air.

Their groans and shouts blended into a fierce rhythm of determination and passion.

At the highest platform overlooking the training ground, Mao Yun stood silently, arms crossed, his gaze sharp.

'I hope their training is sufficient,' he thought grimly.

He had poured everything into these men—his own battlefield experience, harsh drills, and even techniques he had stolen from the military barracks.

He had copied their manuals, forcing the recruits to endure the same brutal regimens that turned ordinary soldiers into hardened warriors.

And yet, compared to the manual Jun Wu had given him, even those methods felt like child's play.

Apart from the military training, these men had also been taught assassination and torture.

They were not merely soldiers; they were killers and hidden blades.

At first, Mao Yun did not understand Jun Wu.

But now, after the ambush at the mansion and the dean's battle, he understood.

The threats against their Young Master were increasing with each passing day. For his protection, he needed more than loyal guards.

They needed a hidden force that could strike silently and vanish without leaving a trace.

These three hundred men would be that hidden blade.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, loud cracks echoed across the training grounds, jolting Mao Yun from his thoughts.

He turned his head sharply and saw a group of young men lying prone on the dirt, each gripping a strange weapon.

This was no ordinary weapon.

It was one of the deadliest creations from Jun Wu's past life.

A Sniper Rifle.

After creating the revolver, Jun Wu had begun working on the Runic Sniper Rifle.

Mao Yun was in charge gathering all the men and resources needed. He had to travel distant cities to recruit skilled craftsmen.

Their role was simple but crucial

They had to produce two flawless pieces of glass for each weapon.

Jun Wu called it a "scope."

At first, Mao Yun hadn't understood its importance.

But the first time he looked through it, he was left amazed.

Objects hundreds of meters away appeared as though they were right before his eyes.

With the scope, the rifle's terrifying potential was fully unleashed.

He had once believed no ranged weapon could surpass the bow and arrow.

But after witnessing these rifles in action, he knew better.

On the training field, the young men fired again.

The specialized bullets ripped through the air, striking small targets set five hundred meters away.

Each shot landed with frightening precision.

Mao Yun nodded with satisfaction, his chest swelling with pride. These men were no longer common martial artists.

They had turned into a cold killing weapon.

"Assemble!" he commanded.

At once, the men leapt to their feet, dropping their rifles and rushing to gather before him in disciplined rows.

It was time for them to leave the village.

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