The mountain winds still carried faint echoes of sword chants when Lin Feng descended from the Sword Sovereign Peak. Morning mist clung to his robes, glowing faintly under the rising sun, while the air behind him still shimmered with remnants of azure light — the afterimage of his enlightenment.
Each step down the stone path felt lighter, but his aura had grown vast and unfathomable. Disciples who passed him along the way instinctively lowered their heads, awe and reverence blending in their eyes.
Word of his cultivation on the peak had already spread.
Now, to many within the sect, Lin Feng was no longer just a rising core disciple — he was a legend in motion.
---
Back in his courtyard, two familiar figures awaited him.
"Senior Brother!" Sun Mei called out first, her usual smile bright but with a faint sadness beneath. Fatty — round-faced and grinning wide — waved both arms.
"Lin Feng! You're finally down from that cursed mountain! The sword pressure up there nearly killed me from here," he laughed.
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "I heard you both advanced as well."
"Barely compared to you," Sun Mei said softly. Her gaze lingered on him — the faint golden hue of his pupils, the calm radiance that made him feel like a sword sheathed in the heavens themselves.
They talked for a while — of the sect, of rumors, of the future. But when Lin Feng mentioned he would soon head out again, their smiles faltered.
"You're leaving?" Fatty asked.
"There's a mission from the Hall I'm taking," Lin Feng said. "The Fire Pavilion is stationed near the Burning Ridge Warzone. They're defending a border city from the Blood Sect's forces."
Sun Mei frowned. "That place is dangerous. Even elders have fallen there."
Lin Feng's expression didn't change. "The Fire Pavilion once lent me a hand when I first joined the sect. I owe them."
Without another word, he reached into his sleeve and drew out two talismans. The symbols glowed faintly, one crimson and one azure.
"These are upgraded protection talismans," he said, handing one to each of them. "They'll activate automatically if your life is in danger. Don't hesitate to use them."
Fatty accepted his with a grin, though his eyes softened. "You always act like you're just going for a walk. Try not to blow up half the battlefield this time."
Sun Mei took hers silently. The faint trace of worry in her eyes didn't escape him.
"I'll return soon," Lin Feng said simply. "Until then — cultivate. Grow stronger. We'll meet again at the top."
And with that, he turned, robes fluttering like drifting clouds, and walked toward the mission hall.
---
The Mission Hall
The Mission Hall of the Sword Sovereign Sect buzzed with energy that morning. Young disciples gathered around mission boards, discussing rewards and risks, while older ones exchanged intel about the outer battlefields.
When Lin Feng stepped in, the noise fell silent for a heartbeat. Heads turned. Murmurs rose like ripples.
"That's him… Lin Feng."
"The one who beat Bai Chen?"
"He's here for a mission?"
Ignoring the whispers, Lin Feng approached the elder in charge.
"I'll take this," he said, pointing to the parchment describing the Fire Pavilion's defense mission.
The elder's eyes widened. "That's a frontline warzone assignment. Blood Sect cultivators, multiple Spirit Formation experts, and rogue cultivators from the Western Continent—"
"I'm aware," Lin Feng interrupted calmly. "Approve it."
The elder hesitated for only a breath before stamping the jade seal. "Very well. May the Sovereign's sword guide you."
Lin Feng bowed slightly, took the mission token, and turned toward the exit. Behind him, the hall slowly filled with hushed excitement.
"He's heading to a warzone? Alone?"
"He's insane—or unstoppable."
---
The Warzone
Three days later, the skies above the Burning Ridge crackled with crimson lightning and the scent of blood.
From above, Lin Feng saw the sprawling battlefield below — a city surrounded by walls etched with formation runes, half of which were shattered. Fires burned across the ramparts. Screams of battle echoed beneath the smoke-filled sky.
The Blood Sect had come in full force — waves of crimson-robed cultivators surged forward, their killing intent thick enough to choke the air.
On the city walls, soldiers and Fire Pavilion disciples fought desperately. Streams of flame and spirit techniques collided with waves of dark qi.
Lin Feng's eyes narrowed. "So this is the situation…"
Without another thought, he descended.
---
A blinding streak of azure light tore through the clouds like a falling star.
BOOM!
The impact shattered a Blood Sect formation at the frontline, sending crimson-robed cultivators flying like leaves in a storm.
All eyes turned upward — the burning sky reflected on the figure standing in the crater, robes fluttering in the wind, a sword in his hand that hummed with cold brilliance.
"Who—who is that?!" a Blood Sect commander shouted.
But before he could react, Lin Feng's sword moved.
Shing!
A single swing — and dozens fell. The very air howled as sword intent carved through the enemy ranks.
"Slaughter Intent—Level Five!" someone gasped.
"Impossible… That's Lin Feng! From Sword Sovereign Sect!"
Panic spread among the Blood Sect forces like wildfire. Their morale shattered beneath the pressure of his aura — a dragon's roar hidden within the whistle of his blade.
"Those who desecrate life… fall before my sword," Lin Feng murmured, stepping forward.
Each step birthed an arc of azure light. Each swing silenced a cluster of enemies.
Within moments, the entire vanguard line collapsed.
---
From atop the battered walls, the Fire Pavilion disciples watched in disbelief as the tide of battle reversed.
One of them, a tall woman clad in scarlet armor, shouted over the chaos:
"Whoever that is — cover him! Push forward!"
Her presence commanded respect. Her long hair flowed like fire itself, and her eyes burned with both intelligence and fierce determination.
Lin Feng's gaze flicked upward — recognition sparked instantly.
"Yang Busi…"
He smiled faintly.
She was the same woman he'd once met during an earlier sect mission — sharp-tongued, capable, and fiercely loyal to her Pavilion.
When the Blood Sect finally began retreating, Lin Feng leapt to the walls, landing lightly beside her.
She turned — eyes widening as she took in his face. For a heartbeat, she was speechless.
"Lin Feng?"
"In the flesh," he replied, sheathing his sword. "You're still alive, I see."
Her lips curved into a grin. "Barely. You really know how to make an entrance, don't you?"
"I heard your Pavilion was in trouble," he said simply. "Thought I'd lend a hand."
Yang Busi let out a low whistle. "You didn't lend a hand — you turned the battlefield upside down. The men were ready to retreat, and now they think a god descended."
Lin Feng chuckled. "Exaggeration doesn't suit you."
She crossed her arms, pretending to glare. "You always show up when the world's on fire, huh?"
He looked around — at the wounded soldiers, the flames still burning, the heavy stench of blood. "Seems I came just in time."
Her expression softened. "We'll need your help to hold the city. The Blood Sect won't stop here. They've been pushing deeper every week. I'm commanding the defense until reinforcements arrive."
Lin Feng nodded. "Then I'll stay until it's stable."
---
That night, the war-torn city flickered with the glow of countless torches. The wounded were tended, the dead honored, and for the first time in weeks, the Fire Pavilion soldiers slept without fear.
Lin Feng stood atop the wall, staring out at the dark horizon where the Blood Sect had fled. His sword rested across his back, faintly humming under the moonlight.
Yang Busi approached quietly, her armor now replaced with simple robes, a faint exhaustion softening her fierce demeanor.
"You know," she said, leaning against the battlement beside him, "most people who come here don't survive a day. You arrived and turned the war around in an hour."
He said nothing, only looking toward the stars.
After a pause, she added, "It's good to have you here again, Lin Feng."
He glanced at her, a faint smile curving his lips. "It's good to see you alive."
For a while, neither spoke. The night wind carried the faint scent of ash and iron — yet for the first time in months, the city below slept in peace.