Wang Lili stormed out of the Mission Hall, a whirlwind of humiliated fury. His hips swayed with exaggerated indignation, hands planted firmly on his waist as he barked orders at his two scrambling lackeys. The exit was theatrical, but the silence he left behind was heavy with dread.
Inside the hall, the remaining disciples exchanged nervous glances, the air thick with the unspoken consensus of the crowd.
"He's done for," someone muttered, breaking the silence. "Wang Lili is heading straight for his godfather. That new kid, Luo Zhen? He's a dead man walking."
Heads nodded in grim agreement. In the brutal hierarchy of the Blade Transformation Sect, impulsive heroism was usually a fast track to the grave.
"It's the classic rookie mistake," another disciple opined, shaking his head. "Too much adrenaline, not enough intelligence. Sure, it felt good to land a few punches on a bully, but he didn't do his homework. You don't touch Wang Lili unless you're ready to deal with the monster standing behind him."
"Hong Yue," a third voice whispered the name like a curse. "Ten years at the peak of the King Tier. Universally recognized as the third strongest disciple in the entire Outer Sect. The man is a nightmare."
"Exactly. Wang Lili has terrorized the Outer Sect for years not because he has the skill, but because everyone is terrified of Hong Yue."
"Terrified of what's behind him?" A cynical voice chimed in from the back, accompanied by a lewd chuckle. "I think you mean what's behind his backside."
A ripple of dark laughter moved through the crowd, relieving the tension momentarily. But the humor was fleeting. The reality was that provoking Wang Lili was equivalent to slapping Hong Yue across the face. And Hong Yue was not a man known for his patience or mercy.
News in the cultivation world travels faster than spiritual energy. Within the hour, the story of Luo Zhen's violent outburst in the Mission Hall had swept through the Outer Sect's small community of a hundred-odd disciples.
The reaction was a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. The idea that a fresh recruit had dared to lay hands on the sect's most protected sycophant was almost unfathomable. Yet, for a select few, the news was a gift.
"Luo Zhen actually beat up Wang Lili?" Ma Jinghuan's eyes went wide with disbelief, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face.
"It's true," the messenger confirmed breathlessly. "We confirmed it with eyewitnesses. Luo Zhen didn't just hit him; he humiliated him. Wang Lili is already on his way to cry to Hong Yue."
Ma Jinghuan leaned back, his shock replaced by pure schadenfreude. "Incredible. Truly incredible. I was racking my brain trying to figure out how to sabotage Luo Zhen, but the idiot went ahead and signed his own death warrant." He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "I don't even need to lift a finger. Once Hong Yue gets involved, that kid will be lucky if he's only crippled."
Elsewhere, the Deng brothers, Deng Zhou and Deng Xing, were celebrating as if they had struck gold.
"Haha! That damned Luo Zhen!" Deng Zhou roared with laughter. "He finally kicked an iron plate. Hong Yue has been a peak King Tier cultivator for a decade. Luo Zhen is courting death!"
"Brother," Deng Xing added, his eyes gleaming with malice, "once Hong Yue beats him half to death, we should jump in. We'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget while he's down. We need to vent our anger too."
"Count on it," Deng Zhou sneered.
But not everyone was celebrating. inside his cave dwelling, Gu Shi sat frozen, his face pale with horror.
"Senior Brother Luo is too aggressive," Gu Shi muttered to himself, pacing anxiously. "He's been here for days. He crushed the Deng brothers, scared off Ma Jinghuan, and now he's pummeled Wang Lili? Does he not know how the world works?"
Gu Shi wiped sweat from his forehead. "Wang Lili is a nuisance, nothing more. But Hong Yue... Hong Yue is a catastrophe waiting to happen. He's top three in the Outer Sect. Senior Brother Luo clearly doesn't know the political landscape. If he did, he wouldn't be this reckless."
Determined to save his ally, Gu Shi rushed out of his cave, desperate to find Luo Zhen and warn him of the impending retribution. But his search was in vain. After asking around, he learned the disheartening truth: Luo Zhen had already descended the mountain, having accepted a mission to eradicate the Heavenly King Stronghold.
"He has a heart big enough to swallow the sky," Gu Shi sighed, slumping against a rock. "At a time like this, he goes off to flatten a bandit stronghold? Well, perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. If he's not here, Hong Yue can't find him. Maybe he can live a few days longer."
The Gathering Sun Peak
The Gathering Sun Peak was an anomaly in the landscape—a small summit only a few hundred meters high, yet bursting with vitality. Deep within its bedrock lay a fragment of a spirit vein, nourishing the soil and air with a concentration of spiritual energy several times denser than the surrounding area.
It was the Holy Land of the Outer Sect. Only the three strongest disciples were permitted to claim residence here.
Wang Lili arrived at the peak, a mess of smeared makeup and tears. He stumbled toward a magnificent, ornate cave dwelling carved into the cliff face. Before he could even knock, the heavy stone doors ground open of their own accord.
A deep, masculine voice drifted from the shadows within. "Why are you weeping? What has happened?"
The question only broke the dam further. Wang Lili wailed, rushing inside. His makeup—thick layers of white powder and bright red lipstick—was ruined, flaking off in chunks and staining his thick, bushy beard in a grotesque display.
He ran to the end of the cavern where a man in white robes sat on a meditation cushion. The man appeared to be in his thirties, radiating a calm but dangerous aura. This was Hong Yue.
"Godfather!" Wang Lili shrieked, throwing himself into the man's lap.
Despite the fact that Hong Yue was barely older than Wang Lili, the dynamic between them was firmly established. Hong Yue stroked Wang Lili's back, his expression shifting from meditation to concern. "There, there, my baby. Tell me who wronged you."
Through choked sobs, Wang Lili recounted the humiliation at the Mission Hall. As the story unfolded, the concern on Hong Yue's face hardened into a mask of icy killing intent.
"A newcomer," Hong Yue murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "A fresh recruit dares to humiliate my person? He must be tired of living."
A terrifying pressure erupted from his body, causing the air in the cave to vibrate with a low hum. It was the raw power of a cultivator at the peak of the King Tier.
"Godfather, what are you going to do?" Wang Lili asked, wiping his nose.
"Rest assured," Hong Yue said, his eyes narrowing. "I will cripple this Luo boy. I will help you vent every ounce of this anger."
"But the Sect rules..." Wang Lili sniffled. "Disciples aren't allowed to kill each other. How will you handle him?"
Hong Yue let out a cold, cruel laugh. "Silly child. sometimes, keeping someone alive is far more terrifying than killing them. I have a thousand ways to make him beg for death, yet deny him the release."
"You're so good to me, Godfather," Wang Lili cooed, planting a messy kiss on Hong Yue's cheek.
The gesture ignited a fire in Hong Yue's eyes. His hand slid down to grasp Wang Lili's backside, kneading it roughly. A lewd, hungry grin stretched across his face. "I'm going to handle Luo Zhen for you. How do you intend to thank me?"
"You're so annoying!" Wang Lili giggled, feigning shyness.
"Hehe. You came at the right time. My secluded cultivation hit a bottleneck, and I have a belly full of frustration I need to release," Hong Yue said, licking his lips. "Go. Wash yourself. Make sure you're clean."
Wang Lili stood up, swaying his hips as he walked toward the bathing chamber. "I'm going, I'm going." He paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. "My beard has gotten long again. Should I shave it?"
"Absolutely not," Hong Yue commanded, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I like the way the bristles feel. It's... stimulating."
The Sea of Fire
Bang.
The sound was dull and wet, like a sledgehammer hitting a melon. An Origin Dan realm martial artist exploded into a mist of blood and bone, obliterated by a casual wave of Luo Zhen's hand.
Luo Zhen stood amidst the carnage, his expression bored. For a thousand meters in every direction, the ground was paved with the broken bodies of bandits. Beneath his boot, the wooden sign that read Heavenly King Stronghold cracked and splintered.
Since leaving the sect, Luo Zhen had cut a straight line of destruction to the heart of the bandit territory. The intelligence report had been accurate: the stronghold was led by five Nascent Soul King Tier experts. The rank and file, however, were trash—mere cannon fodder that Luo Zhen swatted aside with basic spells. It wasn't a battle; it was a massacre born of absolute level suppression.
Now, he stood in the Gathering Justice Hall, the innermost sanctum of the fortress.
Five men stood before him. Their auras were thick and heavy, their hands gripping their supreme magic treasures white-knuckled. These were the five chieftains: two at the mid-stage King Tier, two at the late-stage, and one at the peak.
They were the only ones left alive.
"You five surprise me," Luo Zhen said, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "I expected you to run."
"We considered it," the strongest chieftain replied, his eyes locked on Luo Zhen. "The Blade Transformation Sect is a behemoth. But before we flee, we decided we'd kill the arrogance out of you first."
The chieftain looked Luo Zhen up and down, assessing him. "Speaking of surprises, you're a disappointment. We expected a squad of three or four disciples. Instead, they sent you alone. And you're only at the late-stage King Tier." He sneered. "I don't know if you're brave or just stupid. Breaking into the Heavenly King Stronghold solo? You don't seem to know how to spell the word 'death'."
Luo Zhen nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. They hadn't stayed out of bravery; they stayed because they thought they could win.
"Big Brother, why waste words?" one of the bandits barked, his patience snapping. "Kill him!"
Two of the late-stage chieftains moved in unison. A black saber and a silver sword—both glowing with malevolent energy—shot through the air, aiming straight for Luo Zhen's throat.
In terms of raw cultivation realm, these two were Luo Zhen's equals. But in the world of cultivation, realms were merely the foundation. Combat power was the structure built upon it, and Luo Zhen's structure was a fortress.
Luo Zhen didn't dodge. He simply smiled.
With a thought, the air around him curdled. A thick, dark green smog erupted from his pores, expanding instantly to cover a hundred-meter radius. This was no ordinary mist; it was the Dark Green Poison Fog, a corrosive entity that hissed as it touched the stone floor.
The two flying weapons plunged into the fog.
"My treasure!"
"My Black Gold Saber!"
The bandits screamed in unison, clutching their chests as if they had been physically struck. The mental connection to their weapons transmitted the damage instantly. They frantically recalled their artifacts, but it was too late. The saber and sword flew back to their hands, but they were unrecognizable—pitted, scarred, and steaming, their spiritual light dimmed to a flicker.
"What kind of poison is this?" The sword-wielder stared at his ruined blade in horror. "It's high-grade metal! It corroded in seconds!"
"You were relying on this cheap trick?" The Head Chieftain stepped forward, his face twisting into a confident sneer. "Poison that corrodes physical matter? I've seen it a thousand times. It's useless against pure energy."
He raised a hand clad in a golden gauntlet and punched the air.
"Die!"
Spiritual energy coalesced into a massive, multicolored tiger. It roared, the sound shaking the hall, and leaped forward. In mid-air, it expanded to the size of a small house, a juggernaut of pure force crashing into the poison fog.
The fog hissed and swirled, trying to eat away at the tiger, but the beast was immaterial. It tore through the gas, its momentum barely checked.
"Haha! I knew it!" The Head Chieftain laughed triumphantly. "Your poison is useless! Physical corrosion cannot stop energy arts! You're finished!"
"Boss is wise!" the underlings cheered, seeing the tiger close the distance to Luo Zhen.
Inside the fog, watching the massive energy tiger bear down on him, Luo Zhen sighed.
"You're right," he admitted softly. "The poison isn't meant for energy."
He clenched his fist. Instantly, the sea of green fog was sucked back into his body. In the same heartbeat, the air pressure in the hall dropped, and the smell of ozone flooded the room.
"So, let's try something else."
Crack!
Lightning exploded outward from Luo Zhen's body. It wasn't a single bolt, but a web of blinding, blue-white electricity that transformed the hall into a blinding cage.
Descent of the Thunder World.
The giant energy tiger didn't even have time to whimper. As it hit the wall of lightning, it was simply erased—shattered into harmless sparks of light.
The laughter in the hall died instantly. The five chieftains stood with their mouths open, their eyes wide with incomprehension. One moment, the boy was wrapped in poison; the next, he was the god of thunder.
Luo Zhen shook his head, looking at them with genuine disappointment.
"You are too weak," he said. "I wanted to use you as grindstones to test the limits of my skills, but you break too easily. I'm bored now."
He raised his hands. "Time to die."
From his left sleeve, two phantom Thunder Dragons roared to life, their bodies composed of crackling voltage. They surged forward, slamming into the two mid-stage chieftains. There was a deafening boom, and the two men, along with their defensive artifacts, were vaporized from the neck down.
Simultaneously, Luo Zhen flicked his right wrist. Three palm-sized green seals—the Poison Rakshasa Seals—shot out like bullets.
The Head Chieftain and his remaining lieutenants threw up shields, channeled their Qi, and screamed in defiance. It didn't matter. The seals smashed through their defenses as if they were made of paper, imprinting directly onto their chests.
There was no explosion this time. Only a sickening sizzling sound.
In seconds, the three powerful cultivators melted. Their armor, their clothes, their flesh—everything dissolved into a puddle of bubbling green sludge. Only their heads remained intact, rolling onto the stone floor with grim finality.
Luo Zhen needed the heads for the bounty.
A pungent stench filled the hall, forcing Luo Zhen to wrinkle his nose. He moved quickly, collecting the five heads and sweeping the stronghold's treasury into his storage ring.
As he walked out of the Gathering Justice Hall, he cast a single spell behind him. Flames roared to life, feeding on the oxygen and the wood, climbing the walls in a hungry inferno.
Behind him, the Heavenly King Stronghold, a fortress that had terrorized the region for decades, turned to ash. Luo Zhen didn't look back. He had a mission to turn in.