In the Holy Beast Empire of the Holy Continent, five major clans stood as the eternal pillars of power. The Zhao Clan, inheritors of the Fire Lion King bloodline. The Lei Clan, inheritors of the Thunder Dragon King bloodline. The Bing Clan, inheritors of the Ice Bear King bloodline. The Han Clan, inheritors of the Deep Sea Shark King bloodline. And the Du Clan, inheritors of the Poison Snake King bloodline. Together, they were hailed as the Five Pillars of the Holy Beast Empire, the backbone of its strength, feared and respected across the land.
But towering above even these great clans was a force far greater, a power that stood at the very peak of the empire—the Beast God Pavilion. The Pavilion was not bound by bloodlines but by sheer might, its ranks filled with Holy Lords, Holy Monarchs and few Holy Venerables whose names could shake nations. Its authority extended across all territories, its judgment final. Before their existence, even the Five Pillars lowered their heads. To be opposed by them was to court destruction.
Above the clouds, the night still trembled with the remnants of battle. The heavens bore the scars of the clash—dark rifts of space still mending themselves, flames lingering faintly where Zhao Hai's Fire Lion possession had roared, and shadowy wisps where Long Yi's Darkness Dragon had spread. In the midst of that chaos, four figures remained suspended in the sky. On one side was Long Yi, her presence calm but her aura still sharp, flanked by Du Xiaoming and the Wind Eagle Venerable, Feng Tian. Opposite them stood Zhao Hai, the once-proud elder of the Zhao Clan, his arrogance shattered. Fear painted his face pale, and though his form was human once more, his trembling shoulders betrayed his weakness.
Feng Tian's voice, vast and commanding, cut through the silence like a divine decree. "Zhao Hai, go back to the Zhao Clan. If you ever dare act like this again, I will personally visit your Zhao Clan… and meet with your clan leader."
The words struck Zhao Hai like thunder. His knees nearly buckled as the suffocating aura of the Holy Venerable pressed upon him. The pride he had clung to all his life was crushed into dust under the gaze of Feng Tian. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he bowed deeply. "Wind Eagle Venerable, I promise by my name, Zhao Hai, that I will never do something like this again."
Without further hesitation, he turned, dragging his weary dignity with him. Zhao Gao followed close behind, though his steps faltered, his mind still clouded with the memory of Du Xiaoming's venomous gaze. Together, they vanished into the darkness, carrying with them the heavy humiliation of defeat.
Long Yi lowered her head respectfully, her voice steady. "Thank you, Elder Wind Eagle Venerable, for your intervention."
But Feng Tian's lips curled into a faint smile. "Even if I hadn't come, you would have easily defeated Zhao Hai by yourself. Do not underestimate your own strength."
Du Xiaoming stepped forward, her tone steady but urgent. "Elder Wind Eagle Venerable, we must return to the Beast God Pavilion. The Seven-Headed Bull Venerable is waiting for you."
Feng Tian's sharp eyes flickered with amusement. "Ah, that old bull must be fuming. He was about to win our xiangqi match when I felt Zhao Hai's aura and rushed here. I told him to wait until I returned."
Long Yi blinked, startled by the casual tone. The name of the Seven-Headed Bull Venerable was enough to send tremors through the empire, and yet Feng Tian spoke of him as though they were mere neighbors bickering over a board game. Her lips parted, then closed, then parted again. "Elder Wind Eagle Venerable… sometimes you just… I can't even say it anymore."
For a fleeting moment, laughter spilled into the sky, easing the tension that had weighed so heavily only moments before. It was strange, the way supreme powers could speak of unimaginable strength one moment and laugh about trivial matters the next. Yet perhaps that was what made them so terrifying—they lived on a plane far beyond the comprehension of others.
Then Feng Tian extended his hand, tearing the fabric of space itself with ease. A radiant crack opened in the heavens, humming with spatial power. He stepped toward it, his robe fluttering with an authority that seemed eternal. Du Xiaoming followed, but before she disappeared into the rift, she turned her head. Her lips curved in a faint, knowing smile as she looked at Long Yi. "Long Yi, your disciple is quite remarkable…"
The words carried a weight that sank into Long Yi's heart. But before she could respond, the spatial rift sealed shut with a soundless ripple, leaving only silence behind.
Down below, Zhen and his family stood huddled together, their eyes locked on the skies above. They had witnessed little—only flashes of light, waves of power that threatened to crush their souls, and the oppressive darkness of divine-level battle. Now, slowly, the storm of clouds receded, revealing the calm face of the night sky once more. Stars glimmered faintly as though nothing had happened, but their hearts still pounded with unease.
And then they saw her.
From the heavens, Long Yi descended slowly, her figure glowing faintly under the moonlight. The vastness of her aura had disappeared, leaving only warmth and serenity. Her robes swayed as though carried by invisible winds, and her gaze softened upon meeting her disciple. Zhen's chest swelled with relief, and tears blurred his sight.
"Teacher!" His voice broke as it carried across the quiet night.
She landed gently before them, the earth barely stirring under her feet. A soft smile spread across her lips. "I am back, little boy."
The words unraveled the knot in Zhen's heart. Tears flowed freely as he ran forward, wrapping his arms around her waist with trembling hands. "Thank you, my dear teacher…"
Naer followed, her eyes glistening as she stepped close. "Master, I'm so glad you're safe. I was so afraid…"
Long Yi's arms closed around Zhen, her hand gently brushing his hair, comforting him. The lingering shadows of the night faded in her embrace. For Zhen and Naer, her presence alone was enough to silence their fear.
Lan Xin and Lan Hua moved closer, relief flooding their expressions. Lan Hua's voice was low but serious. "Mrs. Holy Lord, what about the one who attacked us? Will he return?"
Long Yi's eyes glimmered with calm assurance. "Do not worry. He will not dare act against you again."
The family exchanged glances, their hearts easing at her words. The silence that followed was filled not with fear but with a gentle sense of safety. And then—
Growl.
A faint rumble broke the moment. Long Yi's cheeks flushed pink as her stomach betrayed her. She turned her face aside in embarrassment, but it was too late—the sound had been heard.
Naer's lips parted in surprise, then curved into a giggle. Zhen's laughter followed, light and free. "Teacher, let's go home and eat something! The food my mother makes is really amazing."
Lan Xin chuckled softly, her eyes kind. "Yes, Mrs. Long Yi. Please come. We would be honored to have you at our table."
Long Yi hesitated, her pride warring with her hunger, but the warmth in their eyes made refusal impossible. At last, she nodded lightly, her lips curved in a smile. "Very well. I will accept your hospitality."
Zhen's eyes sparkled as he tugged her hand eagerly. "Let's go!"
For the first time since the chaos began, the weight on their hearts lifted. Together, they turned toward their home. Their steps were light, their laughter gentle. The storm had passed, and though greater challenges awaited beyond the horizon, for tonight, they had found peace.