"Hm… his attainments on the path of Sword Dao are decent."

Lin Huang's voice was calm, almost thoughtful, as his eyes traced the rotating storm of blades.

A thousand swords hovered in the air, spinning like vigilant sentinels. Each blade trembled faintly, not from instability, but from restrained violence. Sword intent leaked from their edges in invisible waves, slicing across the arena and scraping against the skin like cold wind. Even breathing felt sharper here, as if the air itself had turned into thin blades.

Lin Huang could see it clearly.

Each sword carried power comparable to a Nascent Soul cultivator.

Not an illusion.

Not a trick.

A thousand Nascent Soul-level forces, synchronized into a single killing formation.

If unleashed, the arena would not merely become a battlefield—it would become a slaughterhouse.

For anyone else, the sight alone would have crushed their spirit. Knees would have buckled. Hearts would have frozen in terror.

But Lin Huang only felt… clarity.

At the core of his being, there was no fear, no hesitation—only sharpness. A purity so absolute it rejected everything dull, everything obstructive. A will that existed solely to cut.

"Impressive," Lin Huang said lightly.

His gaze remained steady, unflinching beneath the suffocating pressure.

"But if this is what you're relying on to deal with me, then—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Instead of finishing his words, he simply shook his head, a small gesture filled with unmistakable dismissal.

"As I respect your Sword Dao," Lin Huang continued calmly, "I will give you one chance."

His voice carried effortlessly across the arena.

"Drop your weapon and leave."

The words landed like a hammer.

"…You…!"

Gu Tian froze for half a breath, then his face flushed violently, red spreading from his neck to his ears like boiling blood.

"What did you say…?"

His pride, tempered over decades of cultivation, shattered in an instant.

He had offered mercy.

He had given this junior a way out.

And now—now this ant was standing before him, calmly granting him a chance?

"Junior!" Gu Tian roared, his voice shaking the air. "You've crossed all limits!"

The thousand swords reacted instantly.

Wooooong—

A deafening hum erupted as the blades vibrated in unison. Sword intent surged outward like a tidal wave, slamming into the surroundings. The arena floor groaned, cracks widening as if unable to withstand the pressure.

"If I don't end your life today," Gu Tian continued, his eyes blazing with murderous intent, "my noble sect will become the greatest laughingstock of the Seven Cloud Convergence World!"

As his rage peaked, the swords responded.

The aura of each blade began to rise.

Early Nascent Soul…

Mid Nascent Soul…

The pressure intensified with every heartbeat, forcing cultivators in the stands to retreat again and again. Some coughed blood. Others collapsed outright, unable to bear the overwhelming sword domain.

Finally—

The energy stabilized.

Every single sword now radiated the aura of a peak Nascent Soul cultivator.

One thousand blades.

One thousand peaks.

The air screamed.

The world felt razor-thin.

Gu Tian stood at the center of the formation, his robe snapping violently in the storm of sword intent, his expression twisted with absolute confidence.

Now—

It would be interesting to see how Lin Huang planned to deal with this.

...

Meanwhile, deep within the heart of Ancient Sword City, silence reigned.

Ying Yue gently placed a porcelain cup of freshly brewed green tea before her Master, the Matriarch of the Thousand Sword Sect. Wisps of pale steam curled upward, carrying a faint fragrance of mountain leaves and morning dew. Even in such a mundane act, Ying Yue's movements were graceful, unhurried, every gesture refined to perfection.

She looked as serene and innocent as ever.

It was difficult to imagine that such a girl, with clear eyes and a calm smile, had once coldly extracted the heart—both figuratively and literally—of her childhood sweetheart without hesitation.

Seated across from her, the Thousand Sword Sect Master did not immediately touch the tea. Her fingers rested lightly on the armrest, knuckles pale. Her gaze lingered somewhere far beyond the walls of the hall, heavy and distant, as if countless invisible threads were tightening around her mind.

Ying Yue noticed.

"Master," she asked softly, tilting her head, "what is weighing on you?" A faint smile curved her lips. "Don't tell me that good-for-nothing Lin Huang is giving you a headache again."

At her words, the Sect Master finally smiled, a thin but genuine curve at the corner of her lips.

"Oh? That childhood sweetheart of yours?" she replied lightly. "It seems he somehow recovered—and even grew powerful." She lifted the teacup, the surface rippling faintly. "The rumors about the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo Master defeating the original demons don't appear to be exaggerations after all."

She paused, eyes narrowing just slightly.

"That man… truly has some ability."

Her tone was flat, almost dismissive, as if discussing a minor inconvenience rather than a feat that had shaken the foundations of the world.

Ying Yue nodded along, unsurprised. She had spoken casually, but she knew better than anyone—neither Lin Huang nor his new master was enough to trouble her Master's heart.

Something else was wrong.

The atmosphere itself felt tight.

"Then what is it?" Ying Yue asked again, her voice more serious now. "What could possibly trouble you, Master?"

The Sect Master did not answer immediately.

She stared into the tea, watching the steam dissipate, as though measuring time itself. Then she let out a slow, weary sigh—one that carried the weight of centuries.

"Fine," she said quietly. "You may have already noticed."

Her fingers tightened imperceptibly.

"Even after activating the ancient space-blocking formation, the number of immortal arrivals from the Upper Realm has not slowed." Her voice hardened. "At this rate, even the Thousand Sword Sect may face extinction."

Ying Yue's expression darkened.

She had known things were escalating. She had seen the subtle shifts, the increased patrols, the urgency in her Master's commands. Still, hearing those words spoken aloud sent a chill through her spine.

The Sect Master continued, her tone low and solemn.

"According to the intelligence we've gathered, something enormous is approaching. Someone from the Upper Realm has already made contact." She lifted her gaze, eyes sharp as blades. "An immortal from Sword Saint Heaven could arrive at any moment."

Hiss—

Ying Yue instinctively sucked in a breath of cold air.

She had expected turbulence. She had expected pressure.

But this… this was far beyond her expectations.

Sword Saint Heaven.

The reason the Thousand Sword Sect could dominate the Soaring Dragon Continent, the reason they dared to occupy such a treasure-laden holy land, was not merely their strength—it was their backing.

That place in the Upper Realm was their parent organization. Their shield. Their leash.

If an immortal from Sword Saint Heaven truly descended…

Then the coming storm would not merely shake the continent.

It would redraw its fate entirely.

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