"Seventh Brother, this Fang Han is something else. Look at this mountain—he's using a dao-artifact just to guard it. What on earth is he doing? Cultivating some forbidden art? Honestly, aside from Senior Brother One, Two, and Three, none of us have a dao-artifact, right?"
A female cultivator spoke to Wu Zixu as they hovered above the blood-red cloud.
Fang Han's reputation preceded him. Everything he did shook the heavens—if nothing else, the fact he inherited the Yellow Springs Emperor's legacy and carried the Yellow Springs Diagram, an artifact feared across both immortal and demonic paths, was enough to put him on every major sect's watch list. Now he had walked into the Celestial Star Sect and openly supported Nebula Baby. Anyone among the true disciples with dreams of becoming Sect Master suddenly felt a threat at their throat—and so they came to see for themselves.
The Celestial Star Sect was one of the Ten Immortal Dao Sects, boasting even more true disciples than Yuhua Sect—and among them lurked unfathomable monsters.
Of course, Yuhua Sect's Huatiandu, Meng Shaobai, Fang Qingxue, and Fang Han alone were so dazzling they single-handedly propped up the sect's prestige, trailing not far behind the mighty Taiyi Sect.
"Senior Sister Hua, that dao-artifact is the Blood-Sky Demon Blade. It was a terrifying treasure of the Heaven-Demon Clan. Later, Fang Han performed extraordinary deeds, and Elder Heavenly Execution personally reforged it into a lower-grade dao-artifact. Its power is immense."
Wu Zixu—the prodigy who celebrated his centennial birthday, a Golden Core small giant on par with Taiyi Sect's elite—spoke calmly.
The female cultivator, Hua Wumei, ranked sixth among the true disciples of the Star Sect. She was a seasoned powerhouse with decades of bloodshed behind her.
But the most terrifying among them sat cross-legged on a lotus-shaped cloud: a middle-aged Daoist with white lotuses and golden lamps floating above his crown, forming a celestial canopy. He radiated the bearing of an immortal sovereign.
He was the strongest of the Celestial Star Sect—First Senior Brother, Star-Annihilating Fiend.
A peerless master of the tenth realm, Fate-Reversal, and a candidate for the Longevity Realm. Ranked top ten on the Longevity Provisional List. His cultivation ran deep, his heart even deeper. Fang Han's recent feats—especially killing Taiyi Sect's Golden Core disciples—had forced even him to step out.
Even the demon emperors of the Devil Path wouldn't casually kill a Taiyi Golden Core.
So why did Fang Han dare?
After the debacle with Demon Marshal, not even the innate Demon Emperor dared shed Taiyi blood. But Fang Han did.
"This Fang Han's background is too excessive. Yet with all of us here, he doesn't respond at all? Does he think he's a demon emperor reborn? An ancient giant? I want to see just how powerful he really is. I'll take that Blood-Sky Demon Blade and remind him the world doesn't revolve around him."
A new voice spoke.
A man who looked around thirty, with a flawless physique. In his hand he held a whisk—thousands of silver threads cascading down. The aura was terrifying. The whisk carried a living artifact spirit.
A dao-artifact.
Yes—his whisk was a true dao-artifact. Something even Taiyi's Golden Core geniuses lacked. Demon Marshal, Ghost Emperor, Blacknether King—none had such a thing.
This was Third Senior Brother of the Star Sect: Yu Tianhua.
His whisk, "Ancient Cloud Whisk," was a relic of an archaic cultivator, reforged into a lower dao-artifact with astonishing power.
As he spoke, he flicked the whisk downward.
Instantly, silver grains exploded from the whisk, pelting the blood cloud like divine thunder. Each impact detonated violently, making the Blood-Sky Demon Blade's body buzz under the assault.
The whisk naturally contained Heaven-Thunder.
"Ow—OW! Are you people insane? This is a naked provocation! You want to DIE?!"
The Blood-Night King—who was guarding the mountain—roared. The divine thunder had struck directly on his blade-spirit, sending waves of searing pain through him. Blood clouds vanished. A razor-thin blade of bloody light sliced through space, appearing at Yu Tianhua's forehead.
"Not good!"
Yu Tianhua's expression changed. He had not expected the blade to be this strong—attacking with lightning speed, faster than a killing spell.
Since Fang Han mastered the Five Emperor Demon Arts, the aura of the White Emperor Golden-Sovereign Slash constantly nourished the blade. Fang Han's blood essence also soaked into it. Given another thousand years, it would undoubtedly evolve into a mid-grade dao-artifact rivaling the Panwu Divine Sword.
Even now, infused with Golden-Sovereign qi, the blade's power had skyrocketed. Its strike was faster than an instant-kill spell.
Yu Tianhua's protective qi exploded layer by layer—unable to stop the enraged Blood-Night King.
The blade was about to cleave his head—
Suddenly, a burst of starlight erupted from Yu Tianhua's brow, forming a small infant-shaped figure that intercepted the blow.
He flicked the whisk again. The Ancient Cloud Whisk lashed out, its threads wrapping tightly around the demon blade, immobilizing it.
The Blood-Sky Demon Blade vibrated furiously but couldn't break free. It was newly refined; it lacked the depth and mystery of Ancient Cloud Whisk, crafted by an archaic master far beyond Elder Heavenly Execution.
"Demonic weapon—how dare you rebel!"
Yu Tianhua had intended only to suppress the blade as a warning, telling Fang Han not to openly meddle in Star Sect's affairs. But the blade had nearly taken his life. Humiliated and enraged, he now aimed to cripple the artifact spirit.
Yes—Fang Han killed the Ghost Emperor. But Yu Tianhua didn't fear him—because he had a dao-artifact.
A dao-artifact was a world of difference.
"Star-God Manifestation!"
The infant of starlight grew explosively into a giant warrior in celestial armor. Every breath unleashed stellar thunder. Yu Tianhua, a peak ninth-realm master one step from Fate-Reversal, had been embarrassed. He wouldn't tolerate it.
"My master is in closed-door cultivation. Yu Tianhua—don't get ahead of yourself. You cannot subdue Blood-Sky."
A rise of black mist shot upward. A demonic silhouette formed—the ghostly primordial spirit of Blacknether King. Fang Han had ordered him to guard the mountain; he had no choice but to intervene.
"An evil spirit? Blacknether King? A devil dares infiltrate my Celestial Star Sect?"
His appearance triggered a storm of fury. Old demon lords like Blacknether were universally hunted. If such a being slipped into the sect, countless disciples would die.
Immediately, Wu Zixu, Hua Wumei, Fourth Senior Brother, and Fifth Senior Brother attacked together. Four Golden Cores flew out, blasting Blacknether backward.
Seven Star Sect elites had arrived. Two had formed Golden Cores, two had passed Fire-Wind Tribulation, and the top three—Star-Annihilating Fiend, Hidden Power, and Yu Tianhua—were monsters: one at Fate-Reversal, two at peak Heaven-Earth Manifestation.
And each of the top three carried a dao-artifact.
Including Nebula Baby, the Star Sect possessed four dao-artifacts total. Yuhua Sect's true disciples held five—Huatiandu with two, Fang Han with two, Fang Qingxue with one.
Yuhua was, shockingly, stronger.
"These four Golden Cores… their pressure is immense. No wonder the Star Sect is famed for vast, overwhelming magic."
Blacknether King grimaced. Against four Golden Cores—two post-Tribulation—he couldn't act freely, though he felt no fear.
The Star Sect's arts connected to constellations themselves, channeling stellar power with potent anti-demonic force.
"To think Blacknether King infiltrated us… Capture him. He'll only cause havoc if left free."
Second Senior Brother, Hidden Power, sighed. Then he flicked his sleeve.
A ring flew out—radiant gold, layered with countless talismans and drifting clouds. A terrifying spiritual force flowed inside.
A dao-artifact.
The Ruyi Vajra Ring.
Another lower dao-artifact.
Hidden Power knew Blacknether wasn't easy prey—so he struck ruthlessly, unleashing his trump card. Starlight surged from his sleeves, forming nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine flying swords—his signature constellation-forged Star-light Sword Array.
"Not good…"
Blacknether's heart tightened. One-on-one he could escape even this man, but surrounded by seven true disciples—and fighting inside Star Sect territory—he risked stepping into a killing formation and dying instantly.
In a blink, he was trapped.
The Vajra Ring dropped, clasping his primordial spirit. No matter how he shifted, it constricted tighter—no escape.