The wind screamed through the jagged ravines as Lin Feng darted across the cliffs of the Broken Cloud Ridge. His boots skidded on gravel, his cloak snapping in the storm's fury. The air itself trembled with spiritual energy.
He could feel it—
That aura.
Vast. Heavy. Crushing.
The unmistakable presence of a Core Formation expert.
A thunderclap split the sky, illuminating a crimson figure hovering in the distance. The man's robes bore the insignia of a coiling serpent—a mark of the Scarlet Veil Sect. His eyes gleamed with predatory calm, and the energy around him rippled like molten magma.
"Lin Feng of the Wandering Spirit Hall," the man's voice rolled like thunder. "You have taken what does not belong to you. The Sect demands it back… along with your head."
Lin Feng's breath steadied. His hand brushed against the glowing gourd at his belt. "I suppose diplomacy isn't your sect's strong suit," he said lightly, though his body tensed like a drawn bowstring.
With a flick of his wrist, the cultivator unleashed a crimson chain of qi, snapping through the air like a dragon's tail. Lin Feng leapt aside, his body vanishing in a blur of light. The chain struck the ground, splitting stone and sending a wave of molten dust upward.
He retaliated.
Drawing his sword, Lin Feng whispered, "Heaven-Splitting Flash."
The blade ignited with thunder, streaking skyward before curving down like a golden comet. The attack clashed against the crimson chain, releasing a deafening explosion that sent shockwaves rippling through the mountains.
The expert's lips curled. "A lightning technique… elegant, but shallow. You lack the depth to wound me."
"Maybe," Lin Feng muttered, tightening his grip. "But I've got stamina and an attitude problem."
The cultivator vanished—and reappeared right in front of him, moving at a speed that left afterimages burning in the air. Lin Feng barely blocked the strike, his sword arm trembling as power surged through his bones. Each clash sent sparks flying, lighting the night like a battlefield of stars.
He's fast—faster than anything I've faced… but his rhythm is predictable, Lin Feng thought, his gaze sharpening.
He began adjusting his movements—slower, steadier, letting his opponent's aggression overextend. The crimson aura grew wilder as frustration crept into the Core Formation expert's strikes.
"Trying to outlast me? Foolish!" the man roared.
But Lin Feng was already smiling.
"No… I'm just buying time."
He slammed his palm into the ground, activating a formation carved in lightning sigils—a defensive array he'd crafted days earlier.
The entire ridge erupted in golden arcs, trapping the pursuer within a storm barrier.
The Scarlet expert snarled. "A mortal formation? You insult me!"
"Not mortal," Lin Feng said softly, golden sparks dancing across his arms. "It's the Wandering Spirit's Thunder Cocoon—and you just stepped inside."
The barrier contracted, bolts of lightning striking inward. The expert howled, his robes burning as crimson energy flared outward to resist. For a brief moment, Lin Feng thought he might actually win.
Then—
The man's aura spiked.
The Core Formation realm pulsed outward like a heartbeat of the heavens.
Lin Feng's formation shattered instantly. The backlash threw him across the canyon, slamming him into a cliffside. Blood sprayed from his lips as his body trembled violently.
"You've forced me to reveal my core strength," the expert said coldly, descending like a god of war. "Be honored as you die."
Lin Feng coughed, wiping blood from his chin. "Yeah… I'll frame that on my tombstone."
He poured every drop of spiritual energy into his gourd. The vessel blazed gold, lightning crackling wildly around him. In that instant, his aura exploded—not from strength, but from sheer defiance.
"Thunder Veins, Ignite!"
The gourd released a wave of light that tore through the air. The explosion blinded the sky, swallowing both cultivators in an ocean of gold and crimson.
When the light faded, Lin Feng was gone—vanished into the storm's embrace.
The Core Formation expert hovered amid the ruin, his robes torn, face shadowed with fury. He scanned the wilderness below, but the aura had disappeared.
"You cannot hide forever, boy," he hissed. "The Scarlet Veil Sect always collects its debts."
He turned, summoning a crimson talisman from his sleeve. It pulsed once, then shattered into dust. Far away, deep within the Scarlet Veil Sect's inner sanctum, a massive figure opened his eyes.
A pressure so intense that the air itself trembled spread through the sect halls.
The man sat cross-legged in the darkness, his spirit core burning bright as a blood moon.
"A lightning brat dares to harm one of my disciples?" he murmured. His voice was low, calm—and terrifying.
"Then I shall pursue him myself."
The storm above the mountains raged harder, as though heaven itself braced for what was coming.