Fang Han's journey to the Starry Sect this time was surprisingly smooth—no ambushes, no obstructions. Before long, he arrived above Meteorfall Mountain, hovering high in the clouds. From this vantage point, the horizon was a boundless sea of mountain peaks: some towering straight into the heavens, others elegant and mist-wreathed, some jagged like ancient beasts, others wrapped in cascading waterfalls. Every ridge was steeped in powerful geomantic energy.
Even from the sky, he could feel it—a desolate, mysterious aura drifting up from the mountain range, an aura that did not belong to this world.
This entire stretch of mountains… felt connected to the countless stars beyond the heavens.
Through Fang Han's divine sense, he saw torrents of astral power constantly raining down from the sky, sinking into the earth and nourishing the range. The mountains teemed with life: lush forests, thriving spirit herbs, and even the wild beasts—tigers, wolves, deer, foxes, snakes, even ants—carried hints of cultivated spiritual awareness.
"A range full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers… deep, ancient, unfathomable. Truly worthy of a great immortal sect." Fang Han nodded. "I've never visited the Starry Sect before. I don't know the path. Xingyun Baobao, lead the way."
"Senior brother," one of the Starry Sect's true disciples said eagerly, "our sect's palace isn't on ground level. It rests in the Nine-Sky Gale Layer, built upon a colossal primeval meteorite. Generations of sect masters have refined it, carving countless pocket worlds inside. All disciples—outer, inner, and true—cultivate within those realms. We rarely descend unless assigned a mission, at which point we use special talismans to break through the gale winds."
Seeing even the infamous Black Nether King obedient beneath Fang Han's command, these true disciples could only revere him.
"Oh? Built in the Nine-Sky Gale Layer? Interesting." Fang Han rose upward without hesitation. "But with your level of cultivation, entering the gale layer must be difficult. Don't tell me you have sect-issued gale-warding talismans?"
They nodded.
The Starry Sect differed greatly from the Feathered Immortal Sect. The Feathered Sect let disciples roam freely to experience the world. The Starry Sect preferred to keep them inside—raised in a cage rather than wild in the woods.
And for good reason.
The Nine-Sky Gale Layer was not a place ordinary cultivators could survive.
The higher one flew in the Xuanhuang World, the more violent the atmosphere became. Tens of thousands of meters up, the winds became so sharp they could tear steel into dust. These were the legendary gale winds, comparable to Daoist Gang Qi. Without reaching the Third Layer of Divine Ability—Gang Qi Realm, one had no chance of surviving up there.
Even then, staying too long could drain one's power to death.
Only Fifth Layer—Heavenly Human Realm experts could roam freely.
But the dangers also came with treasures: Gale Giants, star-essence crystals, sun-moon essences, meteoric minerals, and ancient swords refined by forgotten cultivators. Many ancient experts sealed their flying swords in the gale layer for millennia, letting the winds sharpen their spirits.
Fang Han flew into the Nine-Sky Gale Layer.
The moment he entered, a storm of shrieking winds howled around him—ghostly wails, sky-shaking roars, and tornado-like pillars of black wind searching for living prey. Ordinary Divine Ability novices would be shredded instantly.
But Fang Han? He didn't even activate the Five Emperors Canopy. Instead, he unleashed his Great Devouring Technique.
Black voids bloomed around him. Every gust of gale wind that entered was swallowed whole. Within seconds, the winds within several miles vanished entirely, sucked clean by his technique.
Inside the Yellow Springs Diagram, Yan's voice cackled in delight.
"Gahahaha! The Nine-Sky Gale! Perfect body-refining material! Delicious!"
His soul was inhabiting the ancient dragon skeleton, merging its countless lingering spirits and impurities. On the Blood Dragon Crystal Mountain—formed from countless dragon sheddings—Yan was slowly growing flesh over the once-bare bones. The gale winds blew through the diagram, scraping the dragon bones with razor intent, sending sparks flying.
For Yan, this was bliss.
"When I finish with the Starry Sect, I'll use the Crimson Emperor's Fire Imperial Qi to help you refine your form," Fang Han offered.
"No need! Fire Emperor Qi hurts like hell! I'd rather take my time!" Yan shuddered.
Fang Han chuckled and continued flying upward.
At one hundred thousand meters, the gales could reduce iron to dust, but he remained unmoved. The five Starry Sect disciples behind him clung to their protective talismans, deeply impressed by his power.
"No Gale Giants here," Fang Han murmured. "Makes sense—this is the Starry Sect's territory. Anything valuable was taken long ago."
Just then, something massive appeared within the swirling winds.
A gigantic meteorite.
It floated motionless in the violent gale, as steady as a mountain in a stormy sea. Larger than a city, ancient, solemn, bearing the weight of ages.
At a glance, it seemed lifeless. But Fang Han felt it—a faint, majestic aura reminiscent of the Human Emperor Pen.
"This meteorite… it's not just a rock. It's a supreme treasure."
A near-immortal-grade Dao Artifact.
But he made no move to claim it.
This was the Starry Sect's mountain gate. No one, not even a great primordial fiend, would dare touch the foundation of one of the top ten immortal sects.
The meteorite had been captured by the sect's founder from beyond the heavens, refined for tens of thousands of years in the gale winds. One day, it would certainly transform into a full immortal artifact.
"Let's go! We're close," Xingyun Baobao said, tugging Fang Han's sleeve.
As they approached, the winds vanished. The meteorite absorbed all gale winds within a hundred miles.
A massive stone gate emerged from its surface. Guards patrolled before it—outer disciples who, despite being mere mortals without Divine Ability cultivation, carried themselves with sharp discipline.
"Who goes there? …Ah! It's the young sect master!"
Their expressions immediately turned respectful.
Their eyes then shifted toward Fang Han—a visitor worthy of attention.
"This is Fang Han from the Feathered Immortal Sect," a true disciple announced. "He bears a letter from our sect master. Clear the path!"
Fang Han nodded.
But before they could proceed further, a voice echoed from behind the stone gate—harsh, displeased:
"You five are finally back? In three days, it's Seventh Senior Brother's centennial birthday. Did you finish preparing the gifts we sent you out to buy or not?"