Location: The Azure Sword Sect – War Council
The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric with self-righteous fury.
Three Sect Leaders sat at the high table.
Azure Sword Leader (Jian Chen): A traditionalist who believed the sword was the soul.
White Tiger Leader: A muscular brute who specialized in body hardening.
Mystic Valley Matriarch: A master of illusions and poisons.
In the center of the room lay the shattered remains of Elder Mo's flying sword (recovered from the forest). It was riddled with bullet holes.
"This is an insult to the Dao!" Jian Chen roared, slamming his fist on the table. "Ren Tianxing is dead. This... usurper, Lin Fan, is using demonic arts! Weapons that fire without Qi? Metal that kills from a distance?"
"My spies say they have enslaved their own Elders," the Mystic Matriarch whispered, her voice like silk. "They have turned the sacred mountain into a factory of smoke and filth."
"They are weak!" The White Tiger Leader scoffed. "Cowards who hide behind toys. My disciples' Iron Skin can bounce mortal arrows. These 'guns' will be no different."
A disciple ran in, bowing low. "Report! A messenger from the Iron Blood Sect!"
"Bring him in! We will behead him as a message!" Jian Chen shouted.
The doors opened.
It wasn't a disciple. It was a Drone. A small, quad-copter (built by Lin Fan) buzzed into the room. The Sect Leaders stared at it, confused.
"What beast is this?" The White Tiger Leader frowned.
The drone hovered in the center of the room. A projector beam shot out, displaying a hologram of Lin Fan. He was sitting in his office, cleaning his Desert Eagle.
"Gentlemen, and Matriarch," The hologram spoke. "I received your Declaration of War. It was very poorly written. Too much calligraphy, not enough substance."
"Insolent brat!" Jian Chen drew his sword.
"I am offering you a business deal," Lin Fan continued. "Surrender now. Pay a tribute of 500,000 Spirit Stones. And I will allow your sects to exist as subsidiaries of the Iron Legion. Refuse... and I will liquidate your assets."
The hologram flickered.
"You have 24 hours. Don't step on the grass."
BOOM.
The drone self-destructed. It wasn't a big explosion—just enough to scatter soot and shrapnel across the perfectly clean table.
Jian Chen stood up, his face purple with rage.
"KILL HIM!" he screamed. "MOBILIZE THE ARMY! I WANT HIS HEAD ON A SPIKE BY SUNSET!"
Location: The Whispering Canyon – 12 Hours Later
Zhang Wei stood under a waterfall. The water pounded his shoulders, but he didn't move. He held the heavy Thunder Steel Spear horizontally.
"Heart rate," Li Mu's voice echoed from the bank. "You're at 120. Too slow. The spear is rejecting you."
Zhang Wei gritted his teeth. The spear felt like it weighed a ton. The electricity inside it was stinging his palms.
"Breathe," Zhang Wei told himself.
He focused on the rhythm of the water. The crash. The flow.
Thump-thump-thump.
He pushed his heart rate up. 150. 180. His vision blurred. The adrenaline flooded his system.
Suddenly, the spear stopped vibrating. It felt... hollow. Light.
"Hold it there!" Li Mu shouted. "That is the Resonance Point. Now, strike!"
Zhang Wei thrust the spear forward.
He didn't use strength. He used the snap of his hyper-oxygenated muscles.
ZAP.
The spear tip didn't touch the waterfall. But the air pressure and the arc of static electricity split the waterfall in two for a split second.
Zhang Wei collapsed, gasping, dropping the spear.
"Better," Li Mu nodded, taking a swig of wine. "You split the water. Next, you split steel. Then... you split the sky."
Li Mu looked toward the west, where dark clouds were gathering over the Iron Blood Sect.
"War is coming, kid," Li Mu said quietly.