"What did you just say?" Master Han's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. The courtyard fell silent as disciples held their breath. "Are you truly cutting all ties with me, Zane Frost?"
Zane stood firm despite his bleeding shoulder. "Yes. All ties."
From the side, Liam stared at him with confusion and worry etched across his face. "Zane, what are you doing?" he called out, his voice strained.
Master Han raised his hand, silencing Liam's protest. "Fine," he said, his tone cold as winter. "If the rebellious Zane Frost has turned against us, we shall let him have his way."
Energy began to gather behind Master Han's head, forming a circular halo of blue light. The air crackled with power as the energy took shape, creating a perfect yin and yang symbol that pulsed with deadly intent.
"I will allow you to leave," Master Han announced, "if you can walk out of my sword formation."
Gasps rippled through the crowd of onlookers. Zhao Lin stepped forward, his face twisted with malice.
"That's the Heaven-Earth Sword Formation!" he exclaimed loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Whoever enters dies. No one has ever survived it."
Soren moved to Zane's side, lowering his voice. "You won't survive if you enter the formation. Just apologize to Master Han and Julian. Maybe they'll forgive you."
Zane looked around at the faces watching him—some frightened, some smug, some concerned. His gaze landed on Julian, whose eyes glittered with anticipation.
A smile spread across Zane's face as memories flooded his mind—Master Han's energy blade piercing his heart, ending his life in that other timeline; Julian's confident smirk as he watched Zane die; Zhao Lin's look of satisfaction at his punishment.
Without a word, he turned and walked straight toward the sword formation.
"Zane, stop!" Liam called after him, but he didn't look back.
As soon as he crossed the boundary of the formation, Master Han activated it with a single gesture. The yin and yang symbol spun rapidly, releasing dozens of energy-embedded swords that shot toward Zane from every direction.
He didn't try to dodge. Each blade that struck him sent waves of agony through his body, cutting into flesh and spirit alike. Blood sprayed from his lips as he forced himself to keep moving, one painful step after another.
Liam's fists clenched tightly around his sword hilt, his knuckles white with tension as he watched.
The first wave of attacks subsided, leaving Zane battered but still standing. His robes hung in tatters, soaked with blood, but his eyes remained clear and focused on the path ahead.
Master Han's expression darkened. With another gesture, he activated the formation's second level. The spinning symbol released a new barrage of energy swords, these burning with white-hot intensity.
Each impact drove Zane back, the force of the blows overwhelming him. His legs buckled beneath him as he fell to his knees, coughing up blood that spattered dark against the stone floor.
"This is your last chance," Master Han called out. "There are six more strikes infused with divine flames. They will scorch the very soul of their receiver." His voice carried across the courtyard like thunder. "Even if you manage to escape, you'll lose all your powers. But if you apologize publicly now, I will merely expel you from the Inner Sanctum to the Outer Court."
For a moment, Zane remained on his knees, his breathing labored. Then, slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet.
"I've already endured the torments of raging fire before," he whispered to himself, remembering the pain of death—a pain that no one here could comprehend.
Master Han's jaw tightened at his defiance. The blue energy circulating behind his head like a halo shifted, turning blood-red. The yin and yang symbol spun faster, its edges blurring as it gathered destructive power.
With a gesture more forceful than before, Master Han unleashed the formation's third level. Flaming swords of crimson energy screamed through the air, each one carrying enough power to kill an ordinary cultivator instantly.
Zane braced himself, drawing on the last reserves of his strength. The swords struck him from all sides, opening new wounds and setting his very blood on fire. He staggered but remained standing, his will alone keeping him upright as he continued to push forward through the formation.
Blood flowed freely from his mouth now, dripping from his chin onto the ground with each step. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in from the edges, but he refused to fall again.
"Your sword formation is nothing special," he called out to Master Han, his voice surprisingly steady despite his injuries. "From this day forward, I sever my ties with all of you."
The disciples watched in stunned silence. No one had ever withstood even the second level of the Heaven-Earth Sword Formation, let alone spoken so defiantly after facing the third.
Julian's smile had faded, replaced by a troubled frown. This was not the Zane he remembered—the easily cowed, emotional boy who crumbled under pressure. This Zane was different. Dangerous.
Master Han's face contorted with rage and disbelief. "You dare mock my sword formation? Then face its full power!"
The red halo behind him pulsed, expanding outward as it drew on his vast reserves of spiritual energy. The yin and yang symbol began to fracture, its harmonious balance giving way to pure destructive force.
Soren stepped toward Master Han. "Sect Leader, if you unleash the full power, he will die. Is that really necessary?"
"He has chosen his path," Master Han replied coldly. "Let him walk it to its end."
As the formation gathered power for its final strike, Zane continued his painful progress. Each step was agony, each breath a struggle, but he kept his eyes fixed on the boundary ahead—the line that would mark his freedom from the Phoenix Sect forever.
The memories of his past life fueled his determination. The humiliation of false accusations. The pain of betrayal by those he had trusted. The terror of facing execution for crimes he hadn't committed. And beneath it all, the burning desire for justice—for revenge against those who had wronged him.
Master Han raised his hand for the killing blow just as Zane reached the formation's edge. Time seemed to slow as the gathered energy condensed into a single point of blinding light.
"Goodbye, Zane Frost," Master Han intoned. "May your next life teach you better respect."
The light exploded outward in a wave of pure destruction, engulfing the entire formation in searing flame.
When the light faded and the smoke cleared, the disciples gasped. Where they expected to see Zane's charred remains, there was only blood-stained ground.
He stood outside the formation boundary, swaying on his feet but undeniably alive. His clothes were burned away in places, revealing skin scorched and blistered. Blood ran from countless wounds, pooling at his feet. But his eyes—his eyes blazed with a fire that matched the divine flames he had just survived.
"Impossible," Zhao Lin whispered, his face pale with shock.
"How?" Soren's voice trembled as he stared at the impossible sight before him.
Master Han stood frozen, his hand still extended from his final attack. Never in the history of the Phoenix Sect had anyone survived the full power of the Heaven-Earth Sword Formation.
Zane looked back at them, his gaze sweeping over the stunned faces of his former sect mates until it settled on Master Han.
"Remember this day," he said, his voice carrying clearly despite his injuries. "Remember the day you made Zane Frost your enemy."
With those words, he turned and limped away from the Phoenix Sect, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he disappeared into the forest beyond the gates.