Lu Chen stood before the gathered leaders, his voice cutting through the wind like a cold blade. "We do not have the luxury of traditional training. In 300 days, the Sky will open, and the Harvest will begin. If we fight as individual sects, we are nothing but appetizers. We must become a single, world-spanning array."
He spread a massive map of the continent on the stone table, but it wasn't a geographical map—it was a blueprint of Qi-conduits.
"The Plan is twofold," Lu Chen declared. "First, we will transform the Seven Sects into 'Siphons'. Instead of holding your Qi, you will feed it into the Earth's veins, connecting back to the Sword Pavilion. Second, you must all learn the 'Void-Breathing Technique'."
The elders murmured in shock. The technique he described was a heresy; it involved thinning one's own soul to mimic the vacuum of the Void.
"It is the only way to survive the Great Refinement," Lu Chen countered, his eyes burning with intensity. "If you are full of energy, he will eat you. If you are empty like the Void itself, his 'Harvest' will pass through you like wind through a net."
For the next month, the Sword Pavilion turned into a grueling boot camp. Lu Chen didn't act as a master, but as a tyrant of survival. He forced the Rank 8 Grandmasters to sit in freezing meditation with Yue Xiao to temper their souls. He made the Thunder Sect disciples practice 'Smallest Point' strikes until their hands bled.
"Again!" Lu Chen roared, standing over a group of exhausted disciples. "The Void doesn't get tired! Fang Yuan doesn't feel pity! If your Qi is not as sharp as a needle, it is useless!"
Beside him, Yue Xiao acted as the silent pillar of strength, her frost aura keeping the disciples' spirits from breaking under the mental strain. Slowly, the chaotic energy of the different sects began to synchronize. The continent was no longer a collection of warring factions; it was becoming a weapon in the hands of a man who had already seen the end