A few hours later, the sky above Sky Fortune Kingdom had deepened into a clear, polished blue—like someone had washed the firmament clean after the storm on Acacia Peak.
On the main field of the Seven Profound Martial House, the stone still held the warmth of the midday sun. The formations that usually divided the arena into countless sparring platforms had been withdrawn; the weapon racks were gone. Today, the entire field was a single, vast meditation platform.
Tens of thousands of disciples sat cross-legged from edge to edge.
Human Hall's rough linen robes were scattered in messy clusters. Earth Hall's ranks were tighter, steadier. Heavenly Abode's elites sat at the very front like darker stones set into a sea of pale cloth. Even some core disciples who rarely showed their faces had come, true essence suppressed to the limit, expressions carefully neutral.
They had watched Acacia Peak's destruction.
They had seen a Revolving Core master kneel.
Now, every gaze was fixed on the man walking slowly toward the center of the arena.
Ren Ming.
His steps were unhurried. His cloak hung loose, hands tucked into his sleeves, posture relaxed. To someone who hadn't seen Acacia Peak, he might have looked like nothing more than a young, slightly lazy guest instructor.
To everyone here, he was the calamity who had erased a third-grade faction in the time it took to burn a stick of incense.
Behind him walked Murong Zi, Qin Xingxuan, Bai Jingyun, Na Yi, and Na Shui.
Their auras were tightly reined in, but the air still seemed to bend around them. The faintest ripple of Fire Laws clung to their bodies. In the soul-sense of those who could perceive it, red-gold rune-wheels flickered faintly in and out behind them—manifestations of Fire Martial Intent, compressed and terrifying.
It was quiet.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Ren stopped at the precise center of the field and turned. His gaze swept across the sea of disciples, then drifted briefly up to the elders seated on the high platform.
Qin Ziya, Hong Xi, Sun Sifan, the department elders…
All of them watched him with a mixture of fear, awe, and something like desperate expectation.
Ren smiled, easy and warm.
"All right," he said. "Let's start."
He didn't raise his voice.
But the sound carried to the very edges of the field, settled into the bones of every disciple, and did not disperse.
He lifted his hand.
The world… tightened.
From the outside, it was just a small motion—a young man rolling his shoulder, loosening his wrist.
To those with sharper senses, something deep inside Ren stirred.
The Immortal Soul Bone.
It sat at the core of his being like a quiet star along his spine. When it awakened, complexity folded inward. Dao-lines that would drive ordinary souls mad with their density compressed into simple, clean patterns. A thousand paths turned into a single step.
Ren drew in a slow breath.
In his inner world, Heaven-Piercing's Martial Intent flickered—multi-colored light coiled with violet thunder arcs. Earth-red flame formed its core, a transparent halo of wind circling around it. From that core, thin strands stretched out like threads piercing through reality.
"Watch closely," he murmured.
Light did not explode outward.
It fell.
Thin, almost colorless strands cascaded from the air above his palm—like the Heaven-Piercing lines that had carved apart Revolving Core strikes, but gentler, tuned down until no one instinctively recoiled. Each strand carried the flavor of his Dao—Fire's relentless refinement, Thunder's sharp judgment, Wind's ruthless search for the shortest path—braided around faint echoes of Water, Earth, and Metal.
The lines drifted down.
They did not burn.
They simply… sank.
One by one, they passed through brows, chests, Spiritual Seas. Tens of thousands of disciples flinched as an unfamiliar yet strangely "clear" pattern appeared in the depths of their consciousness—a rotating diagram of Dao-lines, elements, and circulation paths, suspended above their inner oceans of true essence.
Murong Zi sucked in a breath.
In her Spiritual Sea, flame burst forth, coiling around a familiar red-gold rune-wheel—the Fire Martial Intent she had forged with blood and sweat. Now, around that wheel, a second pattern appeared—a narrow, multi-hued line that cut through the wheel and folded space around it. Tiny sparks of lightning ran along its length. A faint pressure of wind pressed around it, showing every inefficient curve in her meridians.
Qin Xingxuan saw a spear.
In her inner world, a line like a spear thrust appeared, driven straight through a web of elemental marks. Fire runes clustered around the spear's tip, Thunder symbols along its edge, Wind runes flowing along the shaft. Beneath it, faint and shallow, tiny markings of Water, Earth, and Metal flickered—future paths of stabilization, defense, penetration.
Bai Jingyun's Spiritual Sea, still rebuilding itself after the shadow of Acacia Faction, trembled as a delicate pattern unfolded above it—like someone drawing a flawless formation diagram with a single continuous stroke.
Fire dominated her pattern, deep and steady. Around it, threads of Thunder and Wind laced in, showing her where to shave away waste, where to compress, where to ignore.
Na Yi and Na Shui…
In their inner worlds, azure dragon shadows coiled lazily above their dantians, Azure True Dragon Infinity Seeds pulsing with quiet law. The new art sank straight into those seeds.
The dragon phantoms opened their eyes.
Scales of Dao-light lit up across their bodies, forming circulation paths where Fire, Thunder, and Wind aligned perfectly with the sisters' Chaos-tempered meridians. Each scale was a node, each node a point where force could be remembered and reborn.
On the field, countless disciples shuddered.
In their minds, the pattern was the same art.
But each disciple saw a version that matched their own talent, their own meridians, their own weak points.
For one, it appeared as a sword, its edge inscribed with elemental lines.
For another, it appeared as an array diagram, countless shining nodes linked by streams of light.
For another still, it was a map of their meridians with elements marked as tiny stars.
Ren let the lines fall until the last faint strand sank into the last disciple on the outer edge.
Then he lowered his hand.
"This," he said, "is something I built off Heaven-Piercing."
He smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded.
"Heaven-Piercing Elemental Canon," he named it, as if he were calling a casual move. "A little helper for that Martial Intent you just saw me use."
He let his words sink in before continuing.
"For most of you, the three main pillars will be Fire, Thunder, and Wind," he said. "Fire refines. Thunder judges. Wind cuts away everything useless and finds the straightest path."
He lifted three fingers.
"Under that, there's a thin layer of Water, Earth, and Metal. Not much yet. Just enough to stabilize your foundations when your main Laws grow too sharp."
He paused.
"If you cultivate this to Small Success," he said, tone mild, "your Law comprehension will climb. Your true essence will move cleaner. Your Martial Intents will sharpen. With that alone, your combat prowess will be able to fight… about one and a half great realms above your cultivation."
The field erupted in a low, suppressed roar.
One and a half great realms.
For a Peak Houtian, that meant fighting late-stage Xiantian without instantly collapsing.
For an early Pulse Condensation martial artist, that meant stepping onto Xiantian's threshold and punching across it.
Even elders on the platform went pale.
They knew better than anyone: the higher one climbed, the greater the gap between realms became. The difference between late Pulse Condensation and early Houtian was small compared to the gulf between late Houtian and Xiantian. The leap between Xiantian and Revolving Core was an even greater wall.
For a single art to promise "one and a half great realms" when cultivated properly—
Qin Ziya's heart skipped a beat.
Beside him, Sun Sifan swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the arm of his chair until the wood creaked.
Ren let the murmurs simmer, then moved his hand again.
"This is the first piece," he said lightly. "The second…"
His fingers snapped.
A new wave of pressure swept across the field—not heavy, not overwhelming, but dense. The air turned thick for an instant, like water vibrated by an unseen drum.
In his body, the Modified Heretical God Force stirred.
The Heaven-Opening Origin Art.
Power spiraled along his meridians—not as a berserk flood, but as refined wheels. Each twist compressed and tempered. A faint gleam appeared along Ren's bones, then leapt outward as threads of true essence that darted through the air and sank into the Spiritual Seas of every disciple present.
Those who already cultivated Ren's improved Heretical God Force felt their existing art shudder and rearrange itself.
The violent "gate-opening" they were used to calmed. Inner governors formed—spirals that monitored stress, caught stray force, turned waste impact into tempering. The reckless amplification that had once threatened to cripple them became a controlled surge.
For those who had never touched this path—
A new circulation diagram unfurled in their minds.
True essence no longer ran in straight, crude lines. It flowed in spirals, compressing into dense streams before being released. Each surge did not just explode outward; it polished bone, marrow, and Spirit.
On the field, more than one disciple let out an involuntary gasp.
Ren's lips quirked.
"From my previous outing earlier," he said casually,"I found the Heaven-Opening Origin Art a bit lacking. So I fixed it."
He smiled.
"To your benefit."
Threads of true essence continued to sink into Spiritual Seas until every disciple felt a new, coiling pattern embedded within them.
Ren lifted his hand again, palm up.
Above it, three tiny motes of light appeared.
One red-gold, condensed flame.
One violet-white, flickering with miniature arcs of lightning.
One colorless, a transparent twist of wind that made space ripple faintly around it.
"These," Ren said, "are Seeds."
He let the word hang there, letting everyone taste it.
"When your understanding of a Law or concept crosses a certain line," he explained, tone calm, "it doesn't stay as scattered insights. It condenses. Fire, for example—when you stop treating it as simple 'heat' and understand all the ways it moves, devours, refines… that understanding can form a Seed in your dantian or Spiritual Sea."
He closed his fingers.
The three Seeds spun once, then sank into his chest and vanished.
"A Seed deepens your foundation," Ren continued. "It doesn't just make your techniques hit harder. It makes your Laws stick to you. Every breath you take, every circulation you run, presses that Seed to sprout. It teaches your body and soul how that Law wants to move."
He chuckled softly.
"With Heaven-Piercing Elemental Canon to guide you, and the Heaven-Opening Origin Art to support you… once you condense a proper Seed and line it up with your Martial Intent…"
His eyes half-closed; his lashes lowered.
"Any one of you," he said mildly, "will have the potential to kill those so-called Xiantian masters… while still at Pulse Condensation."
The field shook.
He hadn't raised his voice.
But the words struck like thunder.
Xiantian masters.
The realm that ruled cities and kingdoms, the realm most Martial House disciples could only look up to their entire lives.
Pulse Condensation and Xiantian did not simply sit one above the other; they were different systems. The wall between them had stopped countless geniuses forever.
Now this youth, who had crushed an Extreme Xiantian Sovereign with a single palm, was telling them:
If you walk this path well, you can kill them one realm lower.
Na Shui's heart pounded so fiercely she nearly swayed.
In her inner world, the Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed pulsed, scales lighting along its form as the Heaven-Piercing Canon's lines wrapped themselves around it. Her meridians thrummed, sensing a path toward that future.
Murong Zi's blood boiled. Fire true essence surged along the new circulation paths Ren had carved into her meridians. Inside her Spiritual Sea, her spear-image roared silently against the sky.
Qin Xingxuan's gaze sharpened. In her consciousness, the spear-line she'd seen earlier trembled, hungering.
Even elders steeped in decades of cultivation felt their Dao hearts shake.
On the high platform, Hong Xi unconsciously pressed a hand against his chest.
"…Is this really something a Martial House should be teaching?" he murmured.
Qin Ziya did not answer.
He could not pull his eyes away from Ren.
Ren let the shock ripple through them, then slowly shook his head.
"Don't get carried away," he said, voice cooling just a fraction. "I gave you paths. I didn't walk them for you."
He lifted his gaze, sweeping over the vast field.
"These arts project clear diagrams into your Spiritual Seas," he said. "Heaven-Piercing Elemental Canon. Heaven-Opening Origin Art. You can step into those diagrams with your consciousness, study them, run circulations in your mind a thousand times, refine your mastery without grinding your body to dust every attempt."
His tone turned dry.
"But whether you actually grasp anything… that's on you."
He smiled again, easy and slightly teasing.
"If I hold your hand for every step, you'll be strong on paper and fragile in reality. Figuring it out yourself—making mistakes, bleeding, getting lost and dragging yourself back—that's what pushes your path beyond what some lazy instructor drew for you."
He tilted his head.
"So here it is. The foundation for you to catch up… and the chance to be left behind."
He clapped once, the sound light yet crisp.
"Close your eyes," he said. "Look."
Across the field, tens of thousands of eyes shut as one.
Within their Spiritual Seas, the diagrams flared brighter.
Some disciples found themselves walking along a narrow path of flame, thunder veining the ground beneath, wind howling overhead, each step forcing them to feel where their circulation stumbled.
Others saw themselves seated inside a rotating ring of runes, each rune representing an aspect of Fire, Thunder, or Wind—refine, split, compress, ignore—spinning slowly, inviting comprehension.
In Heavenly Abode's front row, Ling Sen's Ashura aura stirred, then sank. In his inner world, Heaven-Piercing lines crossed over his slaughter fields, carving away wasted killing intent, leaving only a sharp, frighteningly clean edge.
Zhu Yan, who had once walked around with the arrogance of a genius, found himself standing before a crimson furnace. Each time he thrust his spear inside the illusion, the furnace either blazed brighter or dimmed. The furnace didn't speak. It only told him, ruthlessly, which paths were correct.
Even the more ordinary Human Hall disciples, who had never dared call themselves "geniuses," felt tiny sparks flicker to life in their Spiritual Seas. For the first time, the road ahead of them had shape.
Time slipped away.
Incense stick after incense stick burned down.
On the high platform, elders watched as the entire field's aura changed.
True essence circulations grew smoother. The faint, ragged edges that always accompanied a large group cultivating together quieted; instead, the Martial House felt like a single vast heart, slowly learning a new rhythm.
Ren watched for a while, eyes half-lidded, then nodded to himself.
"All right," he said softly.
He turned.
"Keep going," he called without raising his voice. "Those who want to rest, rest. Those who want to chase… chase."
He stepped off the invisible center of the Heaven-Piercing domain he had opened.
As he walked along the edge of the field, Murong Zi, Qin Xingxuan, Bai Jingyun, Na Yi, and Na Shui fell into step with him.
They had already branded these arts into their seas long ago.
Now, this was just tightening threads—aligning everything with the new foundation he had shown.
Ren lifted a hand again, fingers flicking almost carelessly.
Streams of Dao-light flowed from his fingertips into the brows of selected disciples at the front—Earth Hall talents, Heavenly Abode elites who had stepped forward earlier, cupping their fists and shouting they were willing to bear more.
This time, the pattern that sank into their meridians was rougher, deeper.
Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians.
The Primal Chaos Meridian Canon he had reshaped for this world.
Where Heaven-Opening Origin Art reworked how true essence surged, the Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians rewrote how the body remembered force. Circulations didn't just strengthen muscles; they carved impressions of perfect movement into bone and marrow. With every step, every punch, nascent Dao Fruits formed quietly in their bodies.
One by one, Earth Hall core disciples shuddered as their meridians twisted, straightened, and reconnected under his Dao.
An older Earth Hall talent, long stuck at a bottleneck he had cursed a thousand times, gritted his teeth as his habitual routes shattered and reformed. Sweat poured down his back; his face went pale, then flushed. When the pain finally faded, his breath felt… different.
Every inhale drew more of the surrounding heaven and earth into his body.
Every exhale left behind a faint echo of strength in his bones.
He bowed so deeply his forehead nearly struck the stone.
"Many thanks, Guest Instructor Ren," he said hoarsely.
Ren waved a hand casually, as if such a favor were worth less than a cup of tea.
He moved on.
Heavenly Abode disciples straightened as he approached. Pride battled with urgency in their eyes. Disciples who had once looked down on Human and Earth Hall now bowed their heads without hesitation, baring their meridians to the Dao-lines that flowed from his fingertips.
He didn't stay long.
He didn't explain every detail.
He left behind paths—and the pressure of four months, ten breaths.
By the time he stepped off the field entirely, the stone ground felt like it was pulsing.
Qin Ziya, watching from the platform, exhaled slowly.
"He's turned the Martial House into a furnace," Hong Xi muttered, voice halfway between awe and fear.
Qin Ziya could only nod.
…
Ren's private courtyard was quiet.
The distant noise of the Martial House faded at the boundary, like waves muffled by a cliff. Inside, a small spirit spring gurgled in one corner, its mist catching the light. A lone tree spread its branches, throwing dappled shade across simple stone benches. The air still carried a faint trace of thunder from previous training sessions.
Ren dropped into his usual seat with a low, relaxed breath, stretching his arms behind his head for a moment.
Murong Zi, Qin Xingxuan, Bai Jingyun, Na Yi, and Na Shui arranged themselves around him almost without thinking—one to a side, one slightly behind, one close enough that her shoulder brushed his sleeve.
For a brief moment, no one spoke.
They'd stood under the gaze of Seven Profound Valleys' Sovereigns.
They'd watched Revolving Core and Extreme Xiantian masters kneel.
Now, the world felt… smaller.
Ren broke the silence with a soft chuckle.
"You girls did well," he said.
Murong Zi's cheeks flushed; she unconsciously straightened, back taut like a drawn bow.
Qin Xingxuan's lips curved—barely, but enough.
Bai Jingyun's fingers tightened in her lap, eyes lowering as heat rose in her chest.
Na Yi's expression remained calm, but a faint warmth flickered in her gaze.
Na Shui, unable to hold it back, leaned forward, eyes shining.
"Ren," she said, voice bubbling, "when you called us your proud, heaven-defying women in front of everyone, I almost—"
"Almost what?" he asked, amused.
"Almost exploded," she said honestly, face heating. "It was… too cool."
Ren laughed, a low, pleasant sound that eased the last remnants of tension from their shoulders.
"It wasn't just for show," he said. "You really did help me make a better impression."
He glanced at each of them in turn, gaze steady.
"When the Valleys look at you," he continued, "they're not just seeing five girls. They're seeing the path I laid down. Seeing the Martial House's future. Seeing a knife at their necks."
He shrugged lightly.
"And honestly? You pulled it off beautifully."
Murong Zi's ears reddened.
"That was all because of your guidance," she said, voice stiff but earnest. "Without you, our Fire Laws and Martial Intents would never have reached this level."
Ren tilted his head, smile deepening.
"Sure," he said. "But I didn't swing the spear for you on that peak. That was all you."
Qin Xingxuan's eyes softened.
Bai Jingyun's shoulders eased a fraction.
Na Shui did, in fact, look like she might explode—this time from pride.
Ren let the warmth settle over them like a blanket, then turned his attention fully on Bai Jingyun.
She felt it like a physical touch.
Her heart skipped. The weight of Acacia Faction's collar, the stench of their perfumes, Ouyang Dihua's smirking face, the humiliation of walking toward that "wedding" like a sacrifice—those memories surged up…
Only to be cut apart by another image.
Ren's palm slamming down on Acacia Peak.
An Extreme Xiantian Sovereign erased in one blow.
And then, under the gaze of tens of thousands, his hand on her face and his kiss—open, shameless, as if the world owed him that moment.
Now, his gaze was gentle.
"Jingyun," he said, his voice unconsciously softening in a way that made Na Shui narrow her eyes in mock jealousy. "There's something I wanted to ask you."
She straightened, hands smoothing her skirt without her realizing it.
"…Yes," she said quietly.
Ren's eyes held hers.
"You've been cultivating the Heaven-Opening Origin Art and the Lantern-Heart Flame Diagram," he said. "Your Fire Laws and Martial Intent are solid. Your foundation's steadier than before."
He paused, letting each word settle.
"Up to now, I left something out for you."
Bai Jingyun's breath caught.
"The Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians," Ren said calmly. "Primal Chaos Meridian Canon."
Murong Zi blinked.
Qin Xingxuan's gaze flicked toward Bai in surprise.
Na Yi and Na Shui exchanged a subtle glance; their Chaos-tempered meridians hummed in quiet resonance, as if acknowledging the art's name.
Ren didn't look away.
"I held back before," he continued, "because your mind was too tangled with those Acacia rats. And now…"
He smiled faintly.
"Today, on that peak… that changed."
Bai Jingyun's throat tightened.
The shame of that false engagement had shattered, ground to dust beneath Ren's palm. In its place, something else had taken root in her chest—a quiet, stubborn pride, and a warmth she didn't dare name.
Ren's tone remained gentle, but steel lay beneath.
"So," he asked simply. "Jingyun. Are you willing to undergo the Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridian Arts?"
Her answer came without a heartbeat's hesitation.
"Yes."
Her voice did not tremble.
Her eyes were clear, like spring water after the last ice melted.
"If it is a path you've carved," she added softly, "then… even if my body breaks, I am willing."
Na Shui made a little strangled sound.
"Don't say it like that," she muttered, half upset, half moved. "You'll make my heart hurt…"
Murong Zi looked away, jaw clenching, as if refusing to show how those words struck her.
Qin Xingxuan exhaled slowly, spear-heart sharpening further. Na Yi's lips curved ever so slightly.
Ren chuckled.
"Relax," he said. "I don't intend to actually break you."
He leaned back slightly, draping one arm along the back of the stone bench, posture loose and perversely unguarded for someone who had crushed Sovereigns hours ago.
"In fact," he continued, his gaze sliding over the five of them with a playful glint, "what I told everyone in the field just now… wasn't the whole truth."
Five sets of eyes locked onto him at once.
Ren let himself enjoy the attention for a heartbeat.
"I said Heaven-Piercing Elemental Canon and Heaven-Opening Origin Art would make your path easier," he said. "That's true. But there's another way to simplify things for you—and at the same time, strengthen your blood and meridians."
He let that hang in the air.
Murong Zi's brows drew together, curiosity sparking behind the stern lines of her face.
Qin Xingxuan's gaze turned thoughtful, her mind already mapping circulations and spear paths.
Na Yi tilted her head, eyes clear, as if she were listening to a Dao lecture.
Na Shui leaned in, clearly expecting trouble.
Bai Jingyun's fingers curled tighter in her lap.
Ren smiled.
"It's not dual cultivation," he said lazily. "At least, it doesn't have to be."
Murong Zi choked.
Na Shui yelped outright, face going scarlet.
Qin Xingxuan's composure cracked; her face reddened.
Bai Jingyun's breath froze.
Na Yi's lashes lowered, a faint, amused light flickering in her eyes—as if she had just watched someone toss a stone into a very clear, very still lake.
Ren's smile widened, shameless and utterly at ease.
"What I need," he said slowly, "is close physical contact. Direct contact with your meridians. Touching bare skin makes it much more effective."
The courtyard went silent.
Five women.
Five different shades of red.
Murong Zi's mind immediately supplied an image of Ren's fingers sliding along her spine, tracing meridians one by one, Fire Law essence awakening wherever he touched. Her true essence flared in response; she forced it down with effort.
Qin Xingxuan's heart mis-stepped. She imagined his hand closing around her wrist, following her spear meridians up her arm, across her collarbone, down toward her dantian… She ruthlessly suppressed the image, but the heat lingered in her cheeks.
Na Yi's lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile, her calm not an act but in comfort.
Na Shui's head ducked, then popped back up almost immediately, eyes shining with a storm of embarrassment and fierce anticipation. Her Chaos-tempered meridians thrummed, as if they already knew his touch would leave indelible paths.
Bai Jingyun…
Her whole face turned a soft, steady crimson.
But her eyes did not look away.