"Fang Han's luck is decent," the Medicine Elder finally spoke, breaking his long silence. "But I'm even more optimistic about Meng Shaobai. He also entered the Wild God Temple and walked out untouched—blessed by the Five Elements Root, no less. By now he's probably broken through to the Golden Core stage."
This Elder was no ordinary figure. As the master alchemist of Yuhua Sect, he managed every pill the sect depended on—feeding hundreds of thousands of disciples—and controlled the only Dao-tier furnace in the sect. His status was as essential as grain to an army.
"Meng Shaobai truly is a prodigy," Star Elder said. "He'll be back to watch the Mountain–River Ranking Tournament. And he's already heard that a new genius—Fang Han—has risen in the sect. Give it a few months and we'll see how far he's climbed. For all we know, he's better than our guesses. We thought Wan Luo and Fang Han would tie—turns out we underestimated him."
The more he spoke, the more animated he became. "This is a sign of prosperity. Four brilliant disciples rising at once—Fang Han, Meng Shaobai, Fang Qingxue, Hua Tiandu—our sect is blessed!"
"But what puzzles me most," Medicine Elder added, rubbing his temples, "is how Fang Han managed to get enough ingredients to refine so many Nascent Soul Pills. If he can truly produce them daily at the rate rumors suggest, I might as well hand my position over to him."
"That's impossible," another Elder scoffed. "We have over five hundred thousand disciples and elders. Even at one pill per day each, Fang Han would need to refine half a million pills daily. No one could manage that. But if he can make even a few hundred per day, distributing them among disciples, we'd see three to five new Divine Ability cultivators in just a year. That growth rate alone is enough to shake the world. Give us a thousand years of this? The power of the sect would be unrecognizable."
"Fang Han is a walking fortune star," someone else mused. "He's distributing Nascent Soul Pills widely, stealing influence right out from under Hua Tiandu. Competition breeds progress—it may not be a bad thing."
The hall shifted into lively debate.
Hua Tiandu—steady, meticulous, with the calm, calculating temperament of a future leader.
Fang Qingxue—decisive and lethal, the reincarnation of the Lightning Mother, already wielding a Dao-tier artifact. She was the sect's sharpest blade.
Fang Han—cunning, bold to the point of recklessness, yet controlled, calculating. He struck only when certain, a trait that earned him the label of "future overlord." Ruthless when needed, but loyal to those loyal to him.
Meng Shaobai—a roaming genius, a sword-wielding wanderer, a dragon among men.
Any sect would be blessed to have even one of them. Yuhua had all four.
"The only thing I fear is internal explosions," one Elder muttered. "Four stars this bright—clashing may be inevitable."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Competition brings strength," the Sword Elder said with a dismissive snort.
But at last the Heavenly Punishment Elder—the only Longevity Realm titan present—raised his voice.
"Enough. From now on, our plan has two paths."
The hall fell silent.
"First—every Elder in this room will enter full-immersion cultivation. The supreme techniques of the Feathered Ascension Scripture have been opened to all of you—the insights of the Grand Elders, the hidden passages, everything. Along with the sect's entire medicinal treasury. We strengthen ourselves to endure the coming catastrophe."
His expression darkened.
"Second—Fang Han and Fang Qingxue must be elevated as fast as possible. The two of them will build the Thunder Emperor's Palace overseas, rallying wandering experts and eliminating the Forty Thieves. More importantly—they will monitor the movements of the Gods. If those beings want to enter our world in large numbers, they must pass through the Void Return pathways. By establishing a presence overseas, we buy ourselves time."
His voice dropped to a grim whisper.
"If we misjudge this calamity, Yuhua Sect will be erased."
The Elders nodded solemnly.
At that moment, celestial music rippled across the sky. Golden vital essence erupted upward, weaving into twenty-four radiant arcs spanning the heavens. Within the light danced human figures, celestial beasts, divine flames, and blossoming flowers.
Then the arcs collapsed inward, becoming a single brilliant orb—so bright it rivaled the sun.
"A perfected Golden Core! On Purple Lightning Peak—Fang Qingxue has broken through!"
Her breakthrough lit the heavens.
"Count them… Eight divine abilities per cycle… Three cycles… three eights—twenty-four abilities!" the Star Elder exclaimed.
Most Golden Core experts managed ten abilities. Fifteen was elite. Twenty was almost unheard of.
Fang Qingxue had twenty-four.
Such a foundation meant she would live for three thousand years.
Fang Han, with his frightening number of abilities, could theoretically reach five thousand if he ever formed his core—though his path would be brutally difficult.
None of this Fang Han knew.
He was deep within the prairie, wholly immersed in "Heaven–Man Resonance," striving to connect the 108 Battle-Soul Relics in his mind to the 36 Heavenly Fiend Stars and 72 Earthsha Stars above.
Three days and nights passed.
His spirit soared upward, drifting into the vastness of the cosmos. Stars expanded into titanic worlds before him—some gentle, some so ancient and immense that simply approaching them felt suffocating. Their power could erase him a thousand times over—erase even Longevity Realm titans.
Only the mythical immortals of legend might shake such stars.
For the first time, Fang Han felt the immensity of the universe, the insignificance of life, the eternity of time.
"Human life is too short," he whispered into the void. "Even the Longevity Realm can't compare to the cosmos. I want true immortality—not just living with heaven and earth, but surviving their death. When the sun rots, when the universe ends—I want to endure."
His spirit roared it into the starry deep.
Boom.
As his will surged, his mind abruptly locked onto 108 distant stars. In a flash, 108 hair-thin beams of starlight descended, merging perfectly with the Battle-Soul Relics in his mind.
For ordinary star-cultivators, star resonance would form massive pillars of light visible for miles.
But Fang Han's foundation was young; the star-light was thin as threads—yet still potent.
The moment the resonance completed, a strange new mental world began to open inside his mind—
And then—
"Not good! Fang Han—danger! Bloodlust incoming!"
It was Yan's voice, sharp as a blade.
Three shadows snapped into existence above the clouds—predators locking onto prey—murder boiling around them as they prepared to strike with killing intent that could shatter mountains.
Fang Han was moments from disaster.