"Do you know her?" Mei Yue'er asked, her voice calm, but her eyes sharp and probing. She found it nearly impossible to believe that Luotian, who had become so calculating, would allow a complete stranger to join their inner circle without a thorough vetting.
"I met her a week ago outside the city," Luotian answered, his tone flat and nonchalant. He carefully buried the memory of their encounter with the Vulture Bandit Troupe. He couldn't mention that fight—it was too closely tied to the attempt on Yue'er's life.
Since the Alchemy Center administered this exam, and they were his prime suspects in that murder attempt, Luotian remained on high alert. He didn't want to risk leaking sensitive details that might be caught by a hidden listening array or a prying elder's ears.
Yue'er's concern lay elsewhere. His vague answer only made her more uneasy, though she kept her expression still as she looked at him.
"Oh? Do you know her, Brother Feng? Is she strong? What's her bloodline?" Wuji whispered, his curiosity finally bubbling over. He kept his voice low, knowing that digging into someone's bloodline in public could be seen as a grave insult.
"I'd rather not say," Luotian replied curtly, his jaw set.
"Why not? There's no enemy here but the clone," Wuji countered, growing more confused by Luotian's refusal.
"It's complicated," Luotian said, his tone firm enough to end a conversation. "And you, of all people, should understand why it's complicated."
But the mystery only made Wuji's brain itch more. "Stop keeping me in suspense! How would I know why it's complicated if I don't even know what you're talking about?" His irritation was plain on his face.
Realizing the questioning would never end, Luotian turned to Lingxi. "Lingxi, can I mention your bloodline out loud?" he asked, his voice softening with respect.
"!!"
Yue'er's face twitched when she heard him use the girl's first name so naturally. A sharp pang of something she didn't want to name hit her chest, though she masked it instantly.
Lingxi hesitated, her fingers twisting slightly in her sleeves as she debated with herself. After a long, heavy pause, she gave a slow nod, though her reluctance was clear to see.
"Alright then," Luotian said, taking a breath before finally speaking. "Her bloodline is called the White Bolt Floral… Rabbit."
It was obvious to everyone that Luotian had stumbled over that last word, his voice dipping as if he were trying to hide it.
Wuji stood frozen, his eyes wide and blinking.
"Hmph! Another outsider," Lizhua sneered, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. He didn't even look at her, his posture dripping with pure, cold condescension.
"!!"
Lingxi's head dropped instantly, her shoulders curling inward as the weight of those words crushed her. She didn't fight back, but the raw sting of the "outsider" label was written in the way she refused to meet anyone's eyes. She had known she wasn't from Divine Bird City, but being invited here by Luotian had given her a flicker of hope that she could finally belong. Lizhua's comment had shattered that hope like glass.
"Ying Lizhua, you rude bastard! Do you even know what manners are?" Yue'er's voice erupted with a fury that made the air vibrate. Her earlier suspicion vanished in an instant, replaced by a burning protective rage. She drew her sword in a single, silver flash, the tip of the blade humming as it pointed directly at Lizhua's throat. She would not stand to see another woman humiliated, especially not for her birth.
Wuji's face went ice-cold. Slowly, with a heavy, dangerous stride, he walked right up to Lizhua, grabbed the genius by his expensive collar, and jerked him forward until their noses were inches apart.
"I dare you to say that again, you punk," Wuji growled, his voice low and dripping with a venom that promised blood.
Lizhua stayed silent, his eyes locked with Wuji's in a battle of wills, but the air between them felt like it was about to explode.
Unlike their usual bickering, Wuji was dead serious. His usual cheerful composure was gone, replaced by a chilling intensity. "What's wrong with being an outsider, huh? Isn't she a person just like us? Answer me, Ying Lizhua! Or do I need to beat the answer out of you?"
In Divine Bird City, the term "outsider" was a heavy, invisible shackle. The city's history was written by the descendants of the Divine Phoenix, and its core nobility were those born with the heritage of feathered wings—the "birds." To the high-born, anyone without feathers was a guest at best and an intruder at worst.
While the city's economy thrived on the investments of outsiders, its social structure was a fortress of prejudice. Non-bird residents were often bullied, cheated, or exploited in the dark corners of the city, their suffering ignored by a populace that viewed them as lesser beings.
Sun Wuji's group was the rare, shining exception to this cruel rule. With his Blitz Stone Titan Monkey bloodline, Wuji was undeniably a "beast" among "birds." He had climbed to the status of a prodigy, yet he could still hear the venomous whispers in the marketplaces. He knew that despite his strength, many saw him as nothing more than an uninvited guest.
The trauma of his childhood was a scar that never quite faded. Wuji remembered being beaten in the streets as a boy, the onlookers walking past with cold indifference because he lacked the "proper" lineage. No one had stopped to help him—no one except Feng Luotian and his small circle of friends, who had fought off the thugs and pulled him from the dirt.
From that day on, Luotian and Wuji were sworn brothers. Wuji had spent every day since trying to prove his worth, fighting the very air of the city to protect others from the same sting of humiliation. Ying Lizhua's casual remark hadn't just insulted a new teammate; it had spit on everything Wuji had survived.
The fire in Wuji's eyes burned with such raw intensity that even the arrogant Lizhua felt a cold spike of hesitation. This was the one line Wuji had sworn never to let anyone cross.
Luotian moved between them and placed a firm hand on each boy's shoulder. "Wuji, calm down. And Lizhua, apologize to Lingxi. Now."
"Why should I?" Lizhua snapped back, his chin lifted in a stubborn display of defiance.
"You know exactly why," Luotian said, his voice dropping into a stern, dangerous register. "Your own sworn brother is one of those people you just insulted. And for your information, I am the one who invited Lingxi to this exam. At least give me some face!"
"Apologize!" Wuji growled, his knuckles white as his grip on Lizhua's collar tightened. Beside him, Mei Yue'er didn't move her blade an inch; the cold steel of her sword remained pressed against Lizhua's throat, her eyes promising a fight if he refused.
Pinned between Wuji's raw strength, Yue'er's killing intent, and Luotian's crushing gaze, Lizhua finally let out a sharp sigh of frustration. He looked away, his pride stinging. "Fine! Alright! Tu Lingxi, I'm sorry for what I said."
"Hmph!"
Wuji and Yue'er harrumphed in perfect unison. Wuji released the collar with a final shove, and Yue'er sheathed her sword with a metallic shing.
Standing to the side, Lingxi gave a small, dignified nod to acknowledge the apology. She then turned her gaze to Wuji and Yue'er, her voice soft but filled with a new, quiet warmth. "Thank you."
The confrontation had stopped short of a fight, but the tension remained. No one in the group seemed ready to put the exchange behind them as they stood together in an uncomfortable silence.
Sensing that their window of opportunity was closing faster than their tempers were cooling, Feng Luotian broke the silence. "We should invite that guy as well," he suggested, pointing toward the ruins where He Chen, the broken leader of the fallen fifty-man army, lay slumped against the stone.
Ying Lizhua groaned, the sound vibrating with pure frustration. "How many more do you want? At this rate, we're hosting a banquet, not a raid!"
"It's better to be safe than sorry," Luotian replied, spreading his hands with a calm, logical shrug.
Wuji, still nursing his irritation from the "outsider" comment, shot back at Lizhua, "Why do you have to be so loud? You'll still be in the number one spot on the board as long as we keep the party under sixteen people! Use your head for once!"
"Then hurry up already," Lizhua muttered, his impatience snapping like a whip. He offered one last, sharp harrumph at Wuji before turning his back to them, staring at the motionless Three Talons clone with eyes full of barely concealed rage.
Luotian didn't waste another second. He flashed over to He Chen, his movement a blur of purple and gold, with Mei Yue'er and Wuji following close behind. Seeing the young master's battered condition—his robes torn and his breath coming in ragged gasps—Luotian crouched beside him. "A little more damage and the teleportation array would have sent you out. Brother, can you still fight?"
"No, I can't move at all," He Chen admitted, his voice a rasping whisper. "But I can still help you with my skill and ability. I know you're here to take down that clone. Let me join. If you defeat it, I can finally pass this exam and become a disciple of Peacock School."
His voice carried a raw mix of desperation and grit. He Chen had spent his life in the shadow of his older siblings, all of whom had excelled at Peacock School. As the son of Heron Lord, the fear of tarnishing his father's prestige was a weight heavier than his injuries.
"How can you help us if you can't even move?" Wuji asked, his skepticism clear as he looked at He Chen's limp legs.
"Believe me, I can," He Chen replied, his eyes burning with a sudden, sharp light.
Luotian nodded. "I'll see for myself. Join us." He gestured for He Chen to link his Theríon, and the connection was made instantly.
///// Party Member 9: He Chen
///// Six Fangs Grey Beak Rapier Heron
///// [Piercing Focus] Level 6: Upon receiving Theríon from others, the next attack's damage will be increased by 3×Theríon increment percentage.
Luotian's eyes narrowed as he processed the numeric formula. It was a specialized "battery" ability—He Chen didn't need to move; he just needed to be a vessel for energy. "His hidden skill might come in handy… somehow," Luotian thought, already beginning to rearrange the tactical board in his mind.
Turning to Yue'er, he instructed, "Yue'er, give him a recovery pill. At least he won't be sent out by a stray shockwave."
Yue'er nodded and retrieved a high-grade pill from her storage. He Chen swallowed it gratefully, the medicine beginning to stitch his internal wounds back together. Once his condition stabilized, they carried him back to where the main party waited.
Gathered under the shadow of the crumbling ruins, Luotian looked at the assembled elites: the aggressive Lizhua, the loyal Wuji, the stoic Yue'er, the mysterious Wei Ci and his clones, and the silent Tu Lingxi.
"Alright," Luotian addressed the group, his voice steady and commanding. "Shall we begin our strategy meeting? I understand that your skills and abilities are sensitive secrets. So, just tell us the basics—anything that can help us break that defense. Rough explanations will do."
The group nodded and gathered to discuss the plan. Their attention turned from the quarrel to the Three Talons clone looming over the plateau. They had ten minutes left to find a way through its defense and put their skills to use.
* * *
On the stage outside the exam site, Mei Hongyi watched the screens with a white-knuckled grip on the railing. He stared as Feng Luotian and his assembled group of elites huddled together, their heads bent in a focused circle as they mapped out their next move. Unable to choke back his mounting anxiety, he muttered, "Don't tell me they're planning to challenge my Three Talons clone? That's reckless! They won't even be able to scratch its surface, let alone defeat it!"
On the surface, his voice brimmed with a shaky confidence, but deep down, a cold sweat began to prickle at his brow.
Luotian had already shattered every expectation Mei Hongyi held, displaying a level of raw power that defied the logic of a typical Six Fangs Fighter. His attack, defense, and speed were all far beyond his rank, and his skills were sharp enough to make a Two Wings Master uneasy.
Mei Hongyi couldn't shake the terrifying possibility that the so-called "God's Crippled Son" might actually reach out and pull off the impossible.
Peacock Lord, standing just a few feet away, was well aware of the storm raging inside Mei Hongyi's heart. Yet, he chose to humor the man's arrogant facade, offering a casual, almost bored response. "Let them try. I'm actually curious to see what they'll do against such an opponent. That said, you don't need to worry so much, Second Elder. The clone has far higher cultivation than any of those kids."
"!!"
Mei Hongyi stiffened, his face turning purple. He hated how easily his Clan Chief seemed to see through him, even when he tried to conceal his fears. With no answer to give, he stood in silence and hoped his clone would prove as unbeatable as he had claimed.