Wang Chen had no idea that the city's great powers were in complete uproar over his display. He didn't know that the nobles were whispering about him in hushed panic, or that rumors of a hidden Golden Core monster had already begun to spread like wildfire.

All he knew was exhaustion.

After using One Thought Across the World, he reappeared in his familiar courtyard, the comforting creak of his old rocking chair greeting him like an old friend.

He lowered himself onto it, his limbs trembling faintly, and finally let out a long, quiet sigh.

The kind of sigh that carried not just fatigue—but release.

The chaos outside, the destruction, the death—it all seemed so far away now.

He leaned back, gazing at the fading dusk through half-lidded eyes. The smell of burnt wood lingered faintly in the distance, but here inside the dojo, everything felt… still.

Before stabilizing his chaotic qi and tending to the storm raging in his meridians, Wang Chen spoke, his tone as calm as a lake untouched by wind.

"Lin Huang, Li Mei… you take care of the rest."

The words floated out softly, yet they carried unquestionable authority.

"….."

For a long moment, neither disciple responded. Both were lost in their own daze, the echo of what they had witnessed still etched behind their eyes.

When Wang Chen's voice reached them, reality seemed to return.

Lin Huang drew in a sharp breath—hisss!—the sound escaping before he could stop it. His fingers trembled slightly as he recalled the moment that violet blade had split heaven and earth.

He had been born with a Sword Dao Body, his entire being attuned to the resonance of blades and intent. Even now, without his sword bone, his sensitivity to sword energy was unmatched.

But what he had just witnessed…

That sword didn't belong to this world.

It wasn't a technique, or even a manifestation of qi. It was truth itself, cutting through illusion and law alike.

In the days he had spent in the dojo library, studying the strange "books of knowledge" his master had collected, Lin Huang's understanding of the world had begun to evolve.

Before, the path of cultivation had seemed wrapped in fog. But now… now everything was clearer—currents of energy, threads of potential, the faint shimmer of spiritual pathways that connected life itself.

And yet, even with his expanded perception, that sword remained beyond comprehension.

The only thing he could grasp was feeling.

That his master, the unassuming man who liked tea and silence, was someone who stood far, far beyond his reach.

A soft warmth bloomed in Lin Huang's chest, mingled with awe. His gaze firmed.

So this was what true strength looked like—

Power restrained by humility, and compassion unshaken by supremacy.

He clenched his fists. One day, he swore, he would reach that same height.

Li Mei, on the other hand, looked utterly shaken.

Her hands still trembled as she stared at the scorched ground beyond the dojo's gate.

Even now, echoes of that divine strike reverberated faintly in her soul.

Since joining the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo, her world had been turned upside down time and again—each revelation more staggering than the last.

First, the True Nirvana Pill, an alchemical marvel.

And now… this.

Li Mei had lived two lives. She had clawed her way up from obscurity, an average alchemist without background or patronage, relying only on relentless persistence and an unyielding will. Over centuries, she had refined herself into a name feared and respected across the upper realm.

And yet—she had been betrayed.

By the one she trusted most.

That pain, that disillusionment, had driven her rebirth. And even now, it shadowed every thought she had.

But nothing in her vast experience—neither betrayal, nor immortality, nor the power of the Eternal Emperor Realm—could explain what she had just seen.

One moment, Wang Chen was standing calmly at the dojo gate.

The next, Bu Fang—Golden Core cultivator, master of thunder—was gone.

No aura. No blood. No trace.

As if he had never existed.

Li Mei had seen plenty of great battles. She had seen immortals clash, their Dao shaking the skies themselves. Yet even those earth-shattering duels had followed a logic—a visible flow of energy, an exchange of power.

What Wang Chen did defied logic itself.

Even now, as she replayed the memory, she could feel something impossible hidden within that slash—a faint, transcendent hum of laws beyond laws.

Her pupils dilated. That energy… she had felt it before.

Transcendent law.

The kind of power that should not, could not, exist in the Lower Realm. The kind of force that belonged only to the great beings of the Upper Heavens.

Her breathing stagnated. "Impossible…"

But as the realization clawed at her sanity, her head began to throb painfully.

She pressed a trembling hand to her temple and forced herself to stop thinking. It was too much. Too vast. and too pointless

"Follow Master's orders," she whispered under her breath, forcing her legs to move.

Blankly, she nodded toward Wang Chen's direction and walked out to tend to what remained of the courtyard—her mind still struggling to make sense of the unfathomable.

And so, while the world beyond the dojo burned with questions and fear,

inside that quiet courtyard, the master rested in silence.

The chair creaked softly.

The evening wind stirred the scent of ash and tea leaves.

And for the briefest moment, it almost felt as though nothing extraordinary had happened at all.

Outside the dojo, the surviving Blood Fang Gang members lingered like ghosts, their faces pale and slick with sweat. The air still smelled of ozone and scorched wood. Each breath felt like inhaling smoke and dread.

Minutes passed. Nothing moved.

Not a sound came from within the shattered gates of the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo.

The silence grew unbearable.

Some of the men exchanged hesitant glances, their nerves stretched thin.

"C-Could it be… the expert spared us?" one whispered, voice trembling but hopeful.

The words spread like wildfire among them.

Yes—that had to be it. Surely that mysterious master, that divine figure who could erase a Golden Core cultivator with a single strike, would never stoop to slaughtering small fries like them.

A few of them even felt tears sting their eyes. They had survived hell itself.

"Maybe he's gone…" another muttered, clutching the amulet at his neck. "We can leave now—"

But before he could finish, a cold voice sliced through the air like a blade.

"Don't even think about running."

The blood in their veins froze.

Two figures emerged from the smoke-filled entrance of the dojo.

A young woman with long black hair that shimmered faintly under the sun her eyes like shards of ice—Li Mei.

And beside her, a tall youth in white, calm yet sharp-eyed—Lin Huang.

The sight of them made several Blood Fang members flinch instinctively.

"These two are…?" someone stammered.

But before they could process, Li Mei's killing intent flooded the street like a tidal wave.

Her qi flared violently, stirring the dust and embers still lingering in the air. If she'd had her alchemical flame in hand, this entire alley would already be a sea of fire.

Her mind was a storm—rage, humiliation, disbelief—all swirling in chaotic tandem. And these fools… these arrogant thugs who had dared to lay hands on her senior brother… had arrived at the perfect moment for her to vent it.

"Run!"

No one knew who shouted first. But in an instant, panic spread like a contagious virus.

The Blood Fang Gang scattered in every direction, tripping over debris, shouting in terror.

But they were far too slow.

Li Mei's silhouette blurred, her robes fluttering like black petals as she vanished from sight.

Then the screams began.

They came sharp and sudden—cutting, choking, sounds, like pigs being slaughtherd.

The narrow street became a whirlwind of qi, dust, and blood. Blades of wind slashed through the smoke. Limbs and bodies crashed against walls with bone-splintering force.

Lin Huang could only stand at the dojo's entrance, watching as crimson splattered the cracked stones like a grotesque painting.

A cold shiver crawled down his spine.

"Junior Sister…" he muttered, forcing a dry chuckle. "Aren't you being a bit too fierce?"

But the girl didn't answer. Her expression remained unreadable, her eyes emotionless as the last thug fell, body limp and broken.

The alley went still once again.

The only sound left was the faint dripping of blood.

....

The next morning.

The sun rose over the Imperial City as if nothing had happened.

Birdsong drifted faintly through the courtyard, the light golden and warm. The Phoenix and Dragon Dojo, however, looked as though a typhoon had passed through it—broken walls, shattered tiles, and black soot still staining the air.

Amidst the wreckage, a young man in white training robes swept the floor with an exasperated expression.

Lin Huang's movements were slow, methodical, and full of silent complaint.

"Sigh… I should've spared one or two of those gang members to clean up this mess," he grumbled under his breath.

He gathered the last pile of rubble into a neat mound and leaned on his broom, wiping sweat from his forehead. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel proud—

until a faint crack echoed.

"...Huh?"

A stone column, hairline fractures spider-webbing across its surface, trembled for a moment—then collapsed in a glorious heap of dust.

A cloud of debris exploded outward, covering everything in a thick gray layer.

The clean floor vanished instantly.

Lin Huang froze mid-motion. His broom still hovered in the air. Slowly, a vein pulsed on his forehead.

"Damn you, Blood Fang Gang!!!"

His roar echoed through the ruined dojo, carried away by the wind.

Somewhere in the background, Wang Chen's calm, unbothered voice drifted faintly from the rocking chair.

"Disciples should learn patience… even while cleaning."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.