Fang Han paused when he heard the Demon Marshal mention his name.
He wasn't too worried, though. With the Reincarnation Shift technique woven through the Yellow Springs Diagram, he had altered his appearance and suppressed his aura, disguising himself as a modest cultivator in the sixth realm of Divine Abilities. Strong enough to not be dismissed, yet far too ordinary to draw anyone's eye.
Even a Golden Core powerhouse—one of those ancient "minor giants"—wouldn't bother giving him a second look.
No way the Demon Marshal could pierce that veil. Even Hua Tiandu had failed to see through this technique; if the Demon Marshal could, the heavens themselves would be laughing.
So Fang Han stayed still, expression unreadable.
"The Fang Han of the Feathered Immortal Gate?" Blood Dance Sun—the Blood Shadow Demon Sect's top disciple—finally stopped attacking. The blood-light that had engulfed the battlefield vanished as he pressed his palm down and drew it all back into the heavenly gate above his skull.
"The one who killed Taiyi Sect's Song Weiyi and Zhao Xuanyi? The one cultivating the Five Emperors Demon Arts, carrying a supreme Dao Artifact—the Yellow Springs Diagram? The same one who defeated Meng Shaobai and slaughtered the Ghost Emperor?"
The Demon Marshal folded his arms and responded coldly, "Yes. That one. Word is he's coming to offer his congratulations to Exalted Lady Linglong. And his gift… is Song Weiyi's Golden Core."
Gasps. Even Blood Dance Sun's composure cracked.
"He dares send a Taiyi Sect Golden Core as a birthday tribute? That's beyond reckless. Does he not fear Taiyi's retaliation? Even his sect won't be able to shield him. They say he's prodigious, but he's still young—only in the sixth realm. Has he even formed a Golden Core? If he has, it would contain fifty-six Divine Abilities… equal to a ninth-realm practitioner with a manifested Dharma Body."
The Demon Marshal snorted. "Regardless—if you and I fight here, we'll only bleed strength and let others profit. This gathering draws more than Fang Han. Candidates ranked fourth and fifth on the Longevity List are coming… and cultivators from beyond the Central World—Ziwei Star, Emperor-Treader Star, Fengyue Star. Their elites are no weaker than our top-ten contenders.
Blood Dance Sun, your arrogance won't carry you far. You think you're made of iron? How many blows can you withstand?"
"Outer star experts?" Blood Dance Sun laughed sharply. "Interesting. Fine—you have a point. No need to waste energy here and amuse the onlookers."
His body elongated into a massive blood-red arc of light that wrapped around Ling Gongzi and the others, pulling them toward the shimmering mirage that veiled Linglong Paradise.
The Demon Marshal dissolved into shadow and vanished as well.
With a few words, the Demon Marshal had dissolved the confrontation and neatly redirected all hostility toward Fang Han.
Fang Han couldn't help but acknowledge the man's cunning.
He turned to head for the dimensional fissure when new voices drifted over.
"What sort of person is this Fang Han?" A woman veiled in violet gauze asked curiously. "To kill Taiyi Sect geniuses and then send one's Golden Core as a gift—he's inviting annihilation. Taiyi is the strongest sect under the heavens and owns an Immortal Artifact."
Her companion—a man in yellow—answered, "You live and cultivate on Emperor-Treader Star, not here, so you haven't heard the recent tales. Fang Han's rise has been meteoric. He inherited the Yellow Springs Diagram from the greatest demon sovereign of three thousand years ago. But his cultivation is still shallow—sixth realm. If he hasn't formed a Core yet, defeating him isn't difficult… though that Dao Artifact of his is troublesome."
A third cultivator—broad-robed and carrying a black steel whip—interrupted coldly.
"You're both underestimating him. His cultivation is not the true threat. His mind is. Every twitch of that man's eye hides a hundred schemes. Even the Ghost Emperor was tricked.
If he forms his Golden Core, he can expand his sea of consciousness enough to refine all nine of the Ghost Emperor's spirits. Imagine the power gained from that."
"What? Refining nine Ghost Spirits? That's unimaginable! His mind would shatter!"
"That's the terror of the Yellow Springs Diagram," the whip-bearing man said. "It contains three hellish formations. The Door of Abaddon—tear open your soul and drown in torment. The Bridge of Judgment—press down the five elements. And the Wheel of Reincarnation… the most vicious formation of all.
If one wishes to defeat Fang Han, one must restrain that artifact."
After more hushed discussion, they stepped into the spatial fissure and vanished.
Fang Han's brows furrowed.
"So many eyes on me already? This time it's not only the Central World's orthodox and demonic sects—even monster clans and starborn cultivators have arrived.
If I want to outshine everyone and receive Linglong Immortal Venerable's three supreme Divine Abilities, I'll have to offend plenty of people."
His thoughts churned—plans twisting, schemes forming—while his gaze searched for a stable gap in space.
Found.
He stepped through.
A roar of spatial winds erupted around him.
When the turbulence passed, Fang Han found himself floating above an endless expanse of cloud-ocean. White mist rolled like tidal waves, and from within it rose countless mountains and islands—each crowned with palaces, spirit beasts, and gleaming pavilions.
Dragons—slender and golden—wound through the mist.
Brilliant five-colored eagles soared above, their cries splitting the sky. Each one was powerful enough that even a Divine Ability expert would struggle to subdue it.
A world unto itself.
A paradise carved from the void.
This was Linglong Paradise.
Fang Han was stunned.
No mountain-gate he'd ever seen—neither the ancient meteorite realm of the Star Gate, nor the Feathered Immortal Palace—compared to this.
For this wasn't merely a sect's territory.
It was a world personally created by one woman.
Linglong Immortal Venerable.
One woman who alone held the line against Taiyi Sect and its Immortal Artifact. One woman who commanded heaven and earth to bend.
At the center of the cloud-ocean rose a colossal golden mountain—so vast it pierced the heavens. Ten-sided, radiant, towering tens of thousands of feet.
Mount Sumeru of Gold.
"That's her seat," voices whispered around him as other cultivators streaked past. "They say that mountain is an artifact just shy of becoming immortal-grade.
Exalted Lady Linglong once crushed a Taiyi Sect Elder—Taiyu Tian—under that very mountain."
Another murmured, "Who knows how far her cultivation has gone? She stands near the threshold of true immortality. If she ascends to the Immortal Realm, her sect will be destroyed by Taiyi in her absence."
"No one knows her realm. She walks a path we can barely imagine."
Fang Han drew in a long breath, eyes fixed on the shining golden giant.
Clouds churned, dragons roared, and the splendor of this world washed over him like a tidal wave.
He extended his spiritual sense—carefully—and began to catch whispers, secrets, rumors drifting through the air.
His entry into Linglong Paradise had only just begun.