Sky Fortune Kingdom's morning sky was a washed-out, gentle blue.
Above the vast compound of the Seven Profound Martial House, mist from the Spirit Spring curled in thin veils, catching the light as disciples moved through their daily routines—spears thrusting through the air, sabers ringing, true essence surging in rough but earnest waves.
On the surface, everything was as it had always been.
But beneath that surface, a sharpness had lodged itself into every heart.
In the Human Hall, disciples glanced more often toward the Heavenly Abode courtyards, as if the wind might carry news from there.
In the Earth Hall, murmurs about "Guest Instructor Ren" never truly died down. Even while they meditated, even as they ran their breathing methods, there was a faint agitation beneath their calm.
And in the Heavenly Abode—where the best of Sky Fortune Kingdom's talents gathered—cultivation had become almost frighteningly focused. Every breathing pattern, every true essence circulation, every trace of Fire was cleaner, tighter, more refined than it had been even a month ago.
...
Inside a quiet courtyard, Na Yi slowly exhaled.
Scarlet flame coiled around her palm, compressed into a thin, spinning wheel. Within that wheel, true essence burned with a fiercer, purer light than any ordinary Fire technique. Faint runes glimmered along the edge—Fire's first-level Laws, already at the peak, threaded with the profound rhythm of a Small Success Fire Martial Intent.
With every rotation, the flame refined itself.
With every pass through her meridians, true essence remembered something of that refinement—and came back stronger.
Her body had grown used to the new path Ren had carved for her: Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians to temper bone and muscle, Modified Heretical God Force to sharpen sense and comprehension, Heaven-Opening Origin Art and the Lantern-Heart Flame Diagram to reshape how her marrow understood "Fire".
Her true essence wasn't simply thick.
It was obedient.
Opposite her, Na Shui grinned, excitement sparkling in her eyes as a similar red-gold rune-wheel spun above her palm. Her Fire wasn't as terrifying as Ren's, but compared to the past, the difference was like heaven and earth.
"Shui, don't get too excited," Na Yi said softly. "Stabilize your heart. Fire follows intent."
Na Shui stuck out her tongue, but her fingers tightened around the flame-wheel as she tried to smooth her breathing.
"I know, Elder Sister," she said. "But… when I think about how that Acacia dog looked when Instructor Ren crushed him…"
Her eyes narrowed, a rare chill flashing through her normally lively gaze.
"…it's hard not to feel fired up."
The image was still vivid in her mind: Ouyang Dihua's arrogant smile turning to sickly pallor, the moment Ren had forced him to kneel, the way his so-called status had shattered like cheap porcelain.
To the Na sisters, that memory was no longer just revenge for Bai Jingyun.
It was proof.
Proof that all the stories about "irreconcilable gaps" and "unshakable status" could be overturned by strength.
Qin Xingxuan, sitting cross-legged nearby with her long spear resting across her knees, opened her eyes at those words.
In her dantian, Fire true essence flowed around an invisible axis. Her own Fire Martial Intent—also at Small Success—manifested as a clean red-gold wheel that coiled around the butt of her spear like a halo. Every time her breath fell into rhythm, the runic wheel spun once, polishing her spear intent, burning away hesitation.
She could feel it clearly.
Every thrust she made now carried a sharper burning meaning, a tendency to pierce and refine.
Ren's voice from nights ago echoed faintly in her mind.
"When the wind blows, a lantern flame shakes. That doesn't mean it's weak.
It means it's alive."
Fear.
The fear she'd felt when hearing the Acacia Faction's name, when thinking of Bai Jingyun's forced engagement, when imagining a Xiantian master descending on Sky Fortune Kingdom—that fear hadn't vanished.
But it no longer chained her feet.
On the stone bench, Murong Zi hunched forward, elbows on her knees, chin propped in her hands. Her usual brashness had quieted somewhat in the last few days. The red martial dress she wore was still bright, her eyes still sharp, but those who knew her well could sense the coil of tension under the surface.
Her spear leaned against the old tree, shaft still faintly warm from the Fire Intent she'd poured into it earlier. The flame-wheel within her own meridians spun restlessly, as if wanting to leap from practice into battle.
Beside her, Bai Jingyun's slender fingers traced the hilt of her sword.
Her cultivation had already stepped into peak Early Bone Forging, Fire Laws at the first level's peak, Fire Martial Intent at Small Success. With the Heaven-Opening Origin Art and Lantern-Heart Flame Diagram as foundation, her combat strength was already comparable to a Peak Early Houtian expert—even among Seven Profound Valleys' youths, she would not be ordinary.
But compared to the Acacia Faction's shadow, compared to the Xiantian backers that stood behind Ouyang Dihua, it still felt far, far from enough.
She tightened her grip unconsciously.
Ren had forced Ouyang Dihua to cancel the engagement contract.
He had shattered Ouyang Boyan's life-saving Xiantian talisman like rotten wood.
Yet…
Acacia Faction was not a single disciple or a single elder.
It was a great mountain that had stood for hundreds of years.
A mountain did not move just because a single stone was smashed.
Bai Jingyun exhaled slowly, trying to steady the faint tremor in her chest. Somewhere deep within, the flame-wheel of her Martial Intent spun once, sending a thin strand of warmth through her cold fingers.
She clung to that warmth.
A knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
All five girls lifted their heads at once.
"Come in," Na Yi said.
The door slid open. A Martial House disciple stood outside, his face pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the coolness of the morning breeze.
"Na Yi, Na Shui, Senior Sisters Qin, Murong, Bai…" he said, cupping his fists. His voice wavered once before he forced it steady. "The House Master requests that you gather in the main hall immediately. A—"
His voice cracked.
"A very special guest has come to the Martial House. The House Master and Deputy Masters are already at the front to greet the guest."
Murong Zi's brows knit together.
Na Shui's heart skipped a beat.
"Is it… someone from the Valleys again?" she asked quietly.
The disciple swallowed, throat bobbing.
"His aura… the elders say it should be at Xiantian…" he said hoarsely. "He came from the Seven Profound Valleys. From the Acacia Faction."
The courtyard went completely silent.
A wind gusted across the tiled roofs, drawing long sighs from the trees.
Bai Jingyun's hand clenched so tightly around her sword hilt that veins appeared faintly on the back of her hand. Her lips had gone bloodless.
Na Yi's eyes cooled, the warmth in her face draining away. Na Shui's fingers curled into fists, her lively gaze turning sharp.
Qin Xingxuan slowly rose, spear in hand.
"…Let's go," she said softly.
Murong Zi cracked her neck once, Fire true essence stirring restlessly in her meridians.
"Good," she muttered. "If they came to bully people, I want to see how far they think they can push."
But despite her words, despite the way she squared her shoulders, there was a tightness in her jaw that wouldn't loosen.
Because everyone knew.
Xiantian… was Xiantian.
...
At the front plaza, clouds pressed low overhead.
It was not the usual faint mist that gathered above the Spirit Spring. This was a weight—a presence that seemed to crush down on every roof tile, every courtyard stone, every breath in the chest.
The weaker Human and Earth Hall disciples were already kneeling, unable to endure. Even many Heavenly Abode disciples had their knees half-bent, true essence running in disorder as they struggled to resist that formless suppression.
The difference between Houtian and Xiantian was not just true essence.
It was breath.
It was the right to touch heaven and earth's origin energy directly.
Above the Martial House's main gate, a lone figure hovered in the air.
Robes of deep red and black. A long sword at his waist, the hilt wrapped in dark leather. His hair was meticulously combed back; his face held an easy, practiced smile that gave the illusion of warmth—but the eyes beneath were narrow, cold, and proud.
Ouyang Guang.
Great Elder of the Seven Profound Valleys' Acacia Faction.
Within Acacia Faction, he was a pillar that had stood for decades.
Within the South Horizon Region, his name alone could cause small kingdoms to tremble.
A faint crimson light flowed around his body, mixed with a barely visible violet hue. That was the aura of an Acacia Faction master—a scent of charm, desire, and blood fused into a terrifying true essence that had already stepped deep into the Middle Xiantian realm.
He looked down on the Martial House like a noble examining a remote estate he had heard odd rumors about.
On the ground below, Qin Ziya cupped his fists, bowing as far as his dignity allowed.
"Seven Profound Martial House's Qin Ziya greets Great Elder Ouyang," he said, his voice steady despite the pressure crushing down on his shoulders.
At his sides, Deputy House Masters Hong Xi and Bi Luo also cupped their fists, expressions solemn.
Like all officials of the Seven Profound Martial House, they understood very well what a Great Elder meant.
A Great Elder could overturn kingdoms.
A Great Elder could annihilate sects.
Ouyang Guang's gaze swept lazily past them.
He did not return the greeting.
His true essence stirred—just a touch.
The pressure intensified.
Several Human Hall disciples spat out blood on the spot, collapsing to their knees. Even some Earth Hall instructors turned pale, sweat pouring down their backs as they forced their meridians to keep moving.
Qin Ziya's teeth clenched silently.
Peak Houtian.
In the entire Sky Fortune Kingdom, he was already comparable to a land god on the mortal throne—but in front of a Middle Xiantian like Ouyang Guang, the difference was no different than that between mortal and heaven.
"Great Elder," Qin Ziya said carefully, "this Qin has already had the disciples seal the Martial House, in accordance with Seven Profound Valleys' orders. Whatever has offended the Valleys… we will naturally cooperate with the investigation."
Ouyang Guang did not even look at him directly.
"The one called Ren Ming is not present, correct? I do not sense any Pulse Condensation person with Fire true essence," he said, voice neither loud nor soft—but it spread across the Martial House like a whisper inside every ear.
His eyes narrowed slightly, a faint killing intent flashing through them and then disappearing.
Qin Ziya's heart tightened.
"The entire Sky Fortune City is under martial law," Ouyang Guang continued leisurely. "My Acacia Faction has spent considerable effort searching. Ouyang Dihua, a disciple of our Faction, was humiliated here. Ouyang Boyan's life-protecting talisman was broken here. And yet…"
He smiled slightly.
"…I do not see any Xiantian capable of such things in this small kingdom."
His gaze finally swept over the gathered disciples.
The moment his Spirit Sense unfurled, the air seemed to twist.
Invisible pressure washed across the Martial House. It was not merely true essence—it was perception, a sharp Xiantian awareness that could slice through protective formations and dive into one's marrow.
In an instant, he saw it.
The Human Hall.
The Earth Hall.
The Heavenly Abode.
His brows faintly lifted.
Compared to the other Martial Houses he had occasionally glanced at across the thirty-six countries, Sky Fortune's talent pool was… abnormal.
The average disciple's cultivation foundation, the pureness of true essence, the steadiness of breathing methods…
They were too clean.
Too sharp.
Heavenly Abode was worse.
Ling Sen at Peak Bone Forging—combat strength already faintly brushing Late Pulse Condensation. Zhu Yan at Early Bone Forging, yet his foundation and battle intent were already slipping toward Pulse Condensation-level.
And then—
Ouyang Guang's gaze paused.
His Spirit Sense brushed five auras standing together at the edge of the plaza, behind Qin Ziya and the elders.
Na Yi.
Na Shui.
Qin Xingxuan.
Murong Zi.
Bai Jingyun.
Five young women, all under twenty.
Four at mid to peak Altering Muscle or Bone Forging, one at Early Bone Forging.
Yet their true essence thickness, their bodily strength, their foundations… all of it rivaled, even surpassed, the majority of Seven Profound Valleys' inner court.
Ouyang Guang's pupils shrank.
…What monster taught them?
Even in Seven Profound Valleys, gathering five such seeds in one generation required effort.
In a backwater like Sky Fortune Kingdom, under a mere Martial House… it should have been impossible.
His gaze lingered.
The more he saw, the more malicious his thoughts became.
Five young geniuses.
All women.
All closely connected to the man named Ren Ming, according to the reports.
In Acacia Faction, there was a saying:
"Talent is a resource; beauty is a spice."
Great geniuses were nurtured, courted, and bound.
Beautiful, talented women… rarely retained full freedom once they stepped into Acacia's sight.
Ouyang Guang chuckled quietly.
"The rumors truly weren't exaggerated," he said. "House Master Qin… you've been hiding some good seedlings."
Qin Ziya's heart sank.
He could tell.
He could feel it.
Ouyang Guang's eyes weren't the eyes of an impartial investigator.
They were the eyes of a hunter who had just found prey.
"Great Elder," Qin Ziya said, forcing his voice steady, "those disciples are all members of my Seven Profound Martial House. If the Valleys wish to recruit, we will naturally recommend them to appropriate Elders—"
Ouyang Guang waved a hand lazily, cutting him off.
"No need for such trouble," he said. "I will take responsibility for them personally. A Xiantian Great Elder guiding a few Martial House disciples… is that not a blessing for their little lives?"
His lips curved.
"The one who offended my Acacia Faction may be difficult to locate in the short term," he went on. "In that case, we naturally have to ensure… other matters are properly arranged."
His gaze slid once more over Na Yi and Na Shui—calm, cold, Fire true essence burning quietly behind their eyes.
Over Qin Xingxuan's steady spear intent.
Over Murong Zi's fierce temperament.
Over Bai Jingyun's pale face, the hint of stubbornness in her clenched jaw.
"Especially the one who was engaged to my Acacia Faction's disciple," he added lightly.
Bai Jingyun's shoulders stiffened.
Qin Ziya's expression finally changed.
"Great Elder—"
"House Master Qin," Ouyang Guang said, voice suddenly carrying a trace of steel, "you don't honestly believe a Martial House master from a small kingdom is qualified to meddle in how the Valleys arrange their disciples' futures, do you?"
The pressure bearing down on the plaza intensified again.
Several Heavenly Abode disciples were forced to one knee, faces flushing, blood churning.
Na Shui's teeth ground together. Her true essence burned, the Fire rune-wheel in her chest trembling as she instinctively wanted to flare her aura in defiance.
Na Yi's hand subtly gripped her wrist, holding her back.
"This isn't our realm yet," she murmured, voice low. "If we move first, we'll only give him an excuse."
"…Tch." Murong Zi's fingers tightened around the hilt of her spear. "Just seeing his face makes me want to beat him until his own mother can't recognize him."
Qin Xingxuan's gaze remained steady, but her heart was pounding.
Xiantian.
She had once watched Xiantian masters pass through Sky Fortune Kingdom from afar—each one like a small sun, true essence distorting the air around them. The gap between them and even the strongest Houtian was like the gap between a mortal and a divine dragon.
Now, that kind of man was directly suppressing the Martial House.
Suppressing her.
Suppressing her friends.
Her aura trembled faintly under the weight. Her Fire Intent burned hotter, flickering between fear and stubbornness.
Bai Jingyun's vision narrowed slightly.
Her breath came faster.
The faint shadow that had followed her for years—the words "fiancée of Ouyang Dihua"—seemed to crawl up from the bottom of her heart again, wrapping around her throat.
She had thought she was finally free.
She had watched Ren shatter that engagement, watched Ouyang Dihua kneel, and for the first time in a long time, had dared to imagine a future she chose herself.
And now another shadow from Acacia Faction had descended.
Stronger than before.
Higher than before.
For a moment, a deep, helpless bitterness rose in her chest.
…Is it still not enough?
Even with all the cultivation Ren laid down for them, even with Fire Laws at the peak of the first level, even with Fire Martial Intent at Small Success… in front of a man like this, they were still too small.
Ouyang Guang smiled.
"Bring those five to me," he said casually. "I will personally examine their foundations. Under my tutelage, they might have the qualifications to enter the Acacia Faction as direct disciples. For Sky Fortune Kingdom, such a 'harvest' should be more than enough to repay the trouble caused by one little guest instructor, no?"
His tone was mild. Reasonable, even.
But his aura held no trace of "discussion".
Qin Ziya's fingers dug into his palms.
He knew the Acacia Faction's reputation.
He knew what "direct disciple" meant there, what the Faction did with talented, beautiful women.
Nine out of ten times, it was not a path they chose for themselves.
But what could he do?
He was Peak Houtian.
The man in the sky was Middle Xiantian.
Even if he sacrificed his life here, what would it change? The Martial House would be buried with him. These disciples would be dragged to the Valleys, their fates still not in their own hands.
"Great Elder," Qin Ziya said hoarsely, "this Qin… begs you to consider that these disciples are still young. If you wish to punish someone, then—"
"Enough."
The word cut across his plea like a blade.
Ouyang Guang's gaze sharpened. For an instant, the gentle smile disappeared, replaced by the cold arrogance of a Great Elder who had long been accustomed to calling wind and rain.
"I came here," he said, voice light, "because Acacia Faction's face was trampled."
"First, a mere Martial House disciple dares to humiliate Ouyang Dihua, in public."
"Then, his uncle's Xiantian life-saving talisman is broken in your Martial House's territory. And you…"
His eyes bored into Qin Ziya.
"…you want to bargain with me? Use a few words about 'youth' and 'punishment' to smooth this over?"
The pressure rose again.
Even Qin Ziya's knees shuddered.
He forced himself to stand straight, sweat dripping down his temples.
At the rear of the plaza, Na Shui whispered through clenched teeth, "This… this is ridiculous…"
Na Yi's brows were drawn tight. Murong Zi's jaw hurt from how hard she was clenching. Qin Xingxuan's fingers trembled on her spear shaft.
Bai Jingyun—
Bai Jingyun's hand clenched around her sword.
She could feel it—her will wavering, the edges of her Dao heart shaking.
She hated it.
She hated this feeling.
At that moment, Ouyang Guang's gaze fell fully on them.
"…You five," he said. "Step forward."
His true essence condensed, forming an invisible hand that stretched toward their group.
In the instant that hand began to close—
The world changed.
It was very subtle at first.
The air that had been heavy and suffocating suddenly… cleared.
The invisible hand of true essence, which had been descending toward Na Yi and the others, slowed as if moving through thick mud.
Ouyang Guang's brows knit.
"What—"
A second pressure descended.
This one did not come from the sky.
It rose from below.
From the ground. From the Martial House itself. From a point near the plaza where there had been nothing an instant before.
It was not a violent explosion.
It was like the surface of a lake being touched by a single fingertip.
Ripples spread outward.
Every Martial House disciple felt it.
Every elder felt it.
Even Ouyang Guang's Xiantian senses jolted.
It was like some invisible hand had tapped on reality's surface—and heaven and earth had shivered in response.
The Acacia Great Elder's expression changed for the first time.
This aura…
Not Pulse Condensation.
Not Xiantian.
Houtian?
His eyes snapped toward the source.
A figure stood in the center of the plaza where no one had been a heartbeat ago.
Simple clothes.
Black hair.
Calm, relaxed posture.
Ren Ming.
He had one hand in his pocket, the other hanging loosely at his side. His expression was… blank. No trace of the easy smile he so often showed Na Yi and the others, none of the lazy warmth he used when brewing tea in the courtyard.
Only a stillness that made Ouyang Guang's true essence instinctively tighten.
The Martial House went silent.
"Ren…"
Na Shui's voice trembled with relief.
Na Yi's shoulders loosened just a fraction.
Qin Xingxuan's grip on her spear steadied.
Murong Zi exhaled in a single, sharp breath.
Bai Jingyun's eyes widened, the despair that had been creeping up her spine suddenly halting, as if someone had cut the rope.
Qin Ziya stared, breath caught in his chest.
He knew.
He knew Ren Ming's cultivation base.
Houtian.
He also knew that the "Pulse Condensation" label had always been… vague. Ren's presence, whenever he concealed or revealed it, had never been something ordinary.
Even so—
To appear like this, under the nose of a Xiantian Great Elder…
To crush Ouyang Guang's pressure as if it were nothing…
Ouyang Guang's gaze sharpened.
He could clearly feel it now.
Ren's true essence realm was indeed Houtian.
But the pressure that wrapped around his body, the way Laws and heaven and earth's origin energy curved ever so slightly around him…
It was like staring at a dragon wearing mortal skin.
"Ren Ming."
Ouyang Guang's eyes narrowed.
"So you are the one who made Dihua kneel, and broke Boyan's talisman."
Ren looked up at him.
His eyes were dark and calm, like deep water under a night sky.
Ouyang Guang opened his mouth to speak again—
"Shut the fuck up."
The words were not loud.
They spread anyway.
They settled into every ear in the Martial House, into every heart, into every trembling meridian.
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Ouyang Guang's face darkened. "…What did you—"
Ren's gaze did not waver.
"You threatened my women," he said, voice flat. The casual warmth he usually used when calling them "my girls" was absent. His tone was cold enough to freeze blood. "You waved Acacia Faction's name around and tried to put your dirty hands on them."
His aura shifted.
It didn't explode outward.
It folded inward—his body becoming the center of some invisible field. Fire, Thunder, and Wind Laws compressed, but did not yet manifest as visible light. Underneath, Earth, Water, and Metal Seeds quietly hummed inside his dantian, deepening his true essence and anchoring his presence.
"When I don't like something," Ren went on, still speaking in that almost lazy American drawl that sounded so out of place in this ancient plaza, "I fix it. When someone tries to use status to steal from me…"
He smiled.
It didn't reach his eyes.
"…I break them. It's pretty simple."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I don't care how many wives your elders have. I don't care how many factions you control, how many little countries you play with."
His eyes were faintly amused, but the amusement didn't touch the killing intent beneath.
"Touch my people," he said, each word dropping clean and heavy, "and you die."
An ordinary Houtian martial artist saying such things to a Xiantian Great Elder would have been suicide.
From Ren—
It sounded like a statement of fact.
Ouyang Guang's face twisted.
"You—courting death!"
His true essence surged.
The air seemed to ignite around him, a violet-red radiance bursting from his body. A long sword flew into his hand, its blade shimmering with purple flames—bone-piercing fire and charming intent mixed into one. Xiantian true essence flooded into the weapon, making the very air scream.
Purple light blazed.
"Purple Flame Bone Lance!"
He slashed out.
The sword didn't remain a sword.
True essence poured from its edge, condensing into a massive spear of scarlet-violet light that shot downward, tearing through the air. Xiantian True Essence twisted space around it; its heat and killing intent were enough to melt stone and pierce through dozens of Peak Houtian experts.
The plaza shuddered.
The sky dimmed.
For a heartbeat, it was as if the heavens themselves had split into two opposing forces—one the arrogant might of a Seven Profound Valleys Great Elder, the other the quiet, smoldering wrath of a man protecting his home.
Below, Ren's coat fluttered in the incoming wind.
He did not move.
"You want to talk conditions with me?" Ouyang Guang snarled, eyes bloodshot. "You think a little Houtian with some tricks can stand above the Valleys? Today I'll—"
Ren lifted his hand.
Fire.
Thunder.
The seeds in his dantian blazed.
Heaven-Piercing Martial Intent flickered once in his inner world, a thin strand of multicolored light stretching from his heart, wrapped in violet thunder arcs, core burning with earth-red flame, a transparent halo of wind coiling around it.
The Intent did not roar.
It simply declared.
Compress.
Fold.
Ignore.
Fire true essence surged out—not in a chaotic flood, but in a perfectly compressed wave, every spiral of Modified Heretical God Force spinning like a refining mill as it amplified power and sharpened control.
Lightning followed, woven seamlessly into the flame.
Within his meridians, Wind chose the shortest path. Every useless circulation loop was sliced away. Every breath dragged more of the surrounding heaven and earth into his Spiritual Sea, refined in passing by the Ancient Ming Bloodline coiled in his cells.
In the plaza, to everyone's eyes, it was simply that Ren raised his palm.
Above him, a vast, translucent palm of Fire-Lightning True Essence formed in an instant.
It did not roar.
It burned quietly, every thread of energy tightly packed—the blazing density of Earthcore Crimson Flame, the piercing ferocity of Purple Flood Dragon Divine Thunder, compressed under Heaven-Piercing's ruthless discipline into a single strike.
The very space around that palm seemed to thin, as if the shortest line between it and its target had been carved out of reality.
Ouyang Guang's instincts screamed danger.
He didn't have time to question why.
He thrust out his sword with full strength.
"Purple Flame Bone Lance!"
Again the purple spear erupted, this time thicker, more violent, the bone-corroding flame at its core howling, Xiantian Laws roaring as they dragged heaven and earth origin energy into the attack.
Xiantian power roared.
The plaza shook.
Human and Earth Hall disciples screamed as they were blown backwards by the shockwave. Formations hidden under the stone flared to life, struggling to redirect and absorb the wild forces.
Qin Ziya's meridians trembled; Hong Xi and Bi Luo both spat out a mouthful of blood, forced half a step back.
Na Yi, Na Shui's Murong Zi, Qin Xingxuan, and Bai Jingyun were protected due to a barrier covering them.
Ren's Heaven-Piercing field settled.
The Fire-Lightning palm descended.
The Purple Flame Bone Lance roared upward.
There was no earth-shaking explosion.
There was a single, crisp sound.
Like a thin, perfect line being drawn through brittle glass.
The purple lance shattered.
Not step by step, not in a dramatic struggle—simply erased, as if the Laws that supported it had been temporarily denied the right to exist.
Heaven-Piercing compressed everything unnecessary, ignoring nearly half of Ouyang Guang's True essence, boring through what remained. The sheer overwhelming power had then pierced through and destroyed Ouyang Guang's True Essence.
To Ouyang Guang, it felt as if his technique had struck an invisible abyss.
His Purple Flame Bone Lance, which had been enough to make half-step Xiantian experts vanish like insects, bust apart in front of a Houtian.
The remnants of the lance disintegrated into a rain of harmless sparks.
The palm did not slow.
Ouyang Guang's eyes widened.
"Impossible—!"
He tried to move.
His true essence screamed, Xiantian bloodline roaring as he attempted to twist away, to delay, to raise more defenses.
Divine Acacia Power flared around him, twisted charm and blood vitality forming a cocoon. Layers of Acacia Faction body-protecting methods wrapped his body. The remnants of Blood Demon Claws instinctively manifested as a sheath of crimson bone-light.
Under the palm, they crumpled.
It was like watching a sandcastle stand against the tide.
Ouyang Guang's true essence barrier cracked.
His meridians groaned.
Bones screamed in protest.
The next moment, his body was smashed from the sky like a falling star, driven straight down into the plaza.
Stone shattered.
A crater bloomed at the center of the Martial House's square, dust and debris exploding outward in a ring.
Disciples cried out, throwing up sleeves and true essence to shield themselves.
Even so, several nearby stones exploded into gravel. Cracks raced along the plaza tiles like spiderwebs; the grand Martial House, which had stood for generations, suddenly looked fragile, as if it had seen something beyond its comprehension.
When the dust settled, Ouyang Guang lay half-buried in broken stone.
His robes were in tatters.
Blood trickled from his mouth, from his ears, from the corners of his eyes. His aura flickered wildly, several meridians already half-ruptured. His Xiantian breath stuttered, nearly collapsing back into something lesser.
If not for his Xiantian physique, that one blow would have obliterated him entirely.
Even so—
He was very, very close to death.