The road leading away from the Han Clan estate was lined with ancient, gnarled willow trees. For the first time in his life—both the old one and this new, chaotic one—Han Feng felt a sense of absolute freedom.
In his storage ring, he carried the Dragon-Marrow Pill and enough spirit stones to buy a small village. The Great Elder had practically thrown them at him, his face pale with a mixture of terror and "good riddance." They wanted the monster gone before he decided to settle a few more years of debt.
Han Feng leaned against a tree, checking his reflection in a small stream. He looked the same—lean, sharp-featured, and dark-haired—but his eyes held a depth that made the local birds stop chirping when he glanced their way.
[Ding!] [Host is currently idle. Current Level: Foundation Establishment Layer 2.] [Note: As long as no immediate threat is detected, the Host's level will remain at the highest peak reached during the last encounter.]
So, I don't lose the progress, Han Feng thought. That's a relief. It would be a pain to revert to a mortal every time I wanted to grab a drink.
He began walking toward the northern mountain range. If he wanted to reach the Heavenly Sword Sect, he had to cross the "Mist-Veil Forest," a place known for low-level spirit beasts and, more importantly, the young cultivators who hunted them for sport and profit.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold, the sound of clashing steel broke the evening silence.
CLANG! SHHH-RIP!
"Give it up, Qing'er! There is nowhere left to run!" a coarse voice roared.
Han Feng stopped. He didn't want to be a hero—heroes usually died in the first three chapters of the novels he used to read—but the path was blocked. He stepped through a thicket of ferns and found himself in a small clearing.
The scene was a classic cliché.
A young woman stood in the center, her white and blue robes—the hallmark of the Heavenly Sword Sect—torn and stained with blood. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with skin like cold jade and eyes that sparked with a stubborn, dying light.
Surrounding her were four men in black leather armor. Their faces were hidden by masks, but their auras were unmistakable.
[Scanning Entities...] [Target 1-3: Qi Refining Layer 9.] [Target 4 (Leader): Foundation Establishment Layer 1.]
The woman, whom they called Qing'er, was only at the 8th Layer of Qi Refining. She was exhausted, her sword trembling in her hand.
"The Sect Master's daughter... worth her weight in Heavenly Essence Stones," the leader of the masked men hissed. "Kill the guards, take the girl. Simple."
"You... the Blood Shadow Pavilion will pay for this," the woman gasped, coughing up a small spray of crimson. "My father will hunt you to the ends of the continent!"
"Your father is a thousand miles away, little bird. Here, I am the sky." The leader raised a serrated blade, green Qi swirling around it.
Han Feng sighed, stepping out from behind a tree. "Excuse me. You're blocking the road."
The five people in the clearing froze. They hadn't felt him approach. To them, Han Feng looked like a common traveler, his aura perfectly suppressed by the System's idle mode.
"A mortal?" The leader squinted, then laughed. "Kid, you have the worst timing in history. Third, kill him. Don't waste more than one strike."
One of the Qi Refining goons sneered, his body blurring as he lunged at Han Feng. "Die, brat!"
Han Feng didn't even blink.
[Ding!] [Threat Detected: Group Encounter.] [Highest Enemy Level: Foundation Establishment Layer 1.] [Logic Triggered: Host Level = 1 + 1.] [Current Status: Foundation Establishment Layer 2.]
The air around Han Feng didn't just vibrate; it groaned. As the assassin's blade reached within an inch of his throat, Han Feng simply reached out and caught the edge with two fingers.
Snap.
The reinforced steel shattered like dry glass.
"What—?" the assassin started to say, but Han Feng's palm was already on his chest.
BOOM!
The man was sent flying back, his chest cavity collapsing inward before he even hit a tree. He was dead before his body touched the ground.
The clearing went silent. The girl, Qing'er, stared at Han Feng with wide, disbelieving eyes. The leader of the masked men stumbled back, his serrated blade shaking.
"Foundation Establishment? At your age?" the leader stammered. "Who are you? Which Great Sect do you belong to?"
Han Feng flicked a piece of the broken sword off his finger. "I don't belong to a sect. I'm just a guy trying to get to the mountains. But you... you're a bit of a problem."
"Don't get cocky!" the leader roared, his fear turning into desperation. He reached into his robe and crushed a blood-red jade slip. "Guardian Elder, save me!"
A massive explosion of dark, foul-smelling smoke erupted from the jade. Out of the smoke stepped an old man with sunken eyes and skin the color of ash. The pressure he released made the trees around the clearing snap like toothpicks.
The girl's face went ghostly white. "A... A Core Formation expert! Run! You have to run!"
[Ding!] [New Peak Threat Detected: Blood Shadow Elder (Cultivation: Core Formation Layer 3).] [Logic Re-calculating: Host Level = 3 + 1.] [Current Level: Core Formation Layer 4.]
The ground beneath Han Feng's feet sank by three inches as the atmosphere itself recognized its new master. The golden light of his Qi turned a deep, royal purple, swirling around him like a protective dragon.
The Blood Shadow Elder, who had been looking down with the arrogance of a god, suddenly felt his heart skip a beat. His own Core, the source of all his power, began to tremble in fear.
"Core Formation... Layer 4?" The Elder's voice was a high-pitched squeak. "But... you look barely twenty! This is impossible! Not even the Holy Lands have such monsters!"
Han Feng looked at his own hands. The power felt different now—denser, more permanent. He looked at the "god-like" Elder and smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
"You guys really need to stop using the word 'impossible,'" Han Feng said. "It's starting to get repetitive."
With a single step, Han Feng vanished.