"Then I will entrust my life to you, Brother Hao," she responded.
She turned around and returned to her room. Sitting on her bed, she felt the changes within herself—deeply personal, impossible to ignore.
Her power was consolidating at an incredible speed. With her growing strength, her understanding of spiritual energy also surged.
TIME PASSED WITHOUT END.
A month passed. Her cultivation had fully stabilized; her realm now completely consolidated.
She believed that with her newfound strength, she could now last several rounds against those who had fully stepped into the Second Turn, First Level—and had reached its peak.
But what she didn't realize was that she had awakened Green Nature Qi, hidden all this time by her red flames.
She stepped out of her cultivation room and into the courtyard. As she stood beneath the night sky, the light of shooting stars streaked above her.
"Today is the day I avenge my parents. Young Master Fe... today is your death," she whispered, her heart steeped in cold resentment.
She left the courtyard.
On a nearby tree stood a figure, expression stoic as he watched her leave.
"It seems she really does want her revenge on the Fe family," Li Hao said, leaning against the bark, gazing out at the distant horizon.
His lips parted slightly as he exhaled sharply. With a step forward, his figure vanished.
Xian Ling walked down the stone steps, her elegant form illuminated beneath the night sky—evoking awe from any who might see her.
She descended the mountain calmly, concealing the turmoil within.
As she neared the gates, her form vanished into the trees—gone from sight.
SEVERAL KILOMETERS AWAY — IN THE HEART OF THE TOWN
There stood a grand mansion, over 2,200 square meters in size. A majestic, neoclassical palace, it dominated the area with its white marble façade, symmetrical layout, and golden accents that spoke of immense wealth and power.
A broad staircase led to towering columns and arched windows, exuding authority and refinement. Manicured gardens and geometric paths reflected a world ruled by order, pride, and opulence.
On the eastern side of the mansion was a training arena—a large, circular stone platform etched with ornate patterns. It was used for duels, training, or high-level martial exhibitions.
At its center stood a young man, appearing around 24 years old. He had purple eyes and dark blue Daoist hair, styled in an undercut—long on top, shaved at the sides, adorned with clan runes and talismans.
He wore flowing, layered robes made from translucent outer fabrics. Silver and crystal accessories—hanging charms, glass pendants, intricate metalwork—complemented the outfit. The design blended modern high fashion with traditional Hanfu aesthetics.
Stylized wave and star motifs evoked time, memory, and dreams. Long white sashes and extended sleeves lent a floating grace to his silhouette, contrasted by a high collar and fitted inner layers.
In his hands was a massive, imposing straight sword—94 cm in length and 6 cm wide, narrowing into a curve at the tip. The blade's black and silver palette radiated a dark, commanding aura. It had elegant wing-like crossguards, a stylized hilt, and a 0.3 cm wide, 7 cm long hole running through the blade's center. The entire weapon was matte black, edged with shadow.
"Ha... ha... ha!" Fe Yu exhaled between breaths, swinging his sword. The blade hummed as it cleaved through the air, wind slicing past its edge.
He stepped forward, leaping skyward. In mid-air, he whispered,
"Leaf Breathing: Second Form – Spiral Mid-Air Slash."
Spinning in the air, he executed a wide horizontal slash. Sword Qi burst forth, cleaving into the ground below.
Landing softly, he immediately performed his next move.
"Leaf Breathing: Ninth Form – Ground Spiral."
He swept the sword in a low, spinning arc at knee level—green Sword Qi scattering like petals.
With a final motion, he stabbed the sword into the ground and crouched beside it.
His voice grew cold.
"Come out. Your stealth isn't good enough to avoid detection."
From the green leaf maze nearby, Xian Ling stepped forward.
In his eyes, she looked no older than sixteen. She had long white hair cascading down her back, turning pink at the ends—Immortal Style.
She wore a split-dress leotard, fused with armor-styled elements and a petal-shaped outer skirt split for mobility. Draped sleeves or cape remnants hung from her upper arms.
In her hand was a slender white straight sword—91 cm in length, 3.5 cm wide, with dark blue, flowing river-like patterns on its hilt.
"And you are?" Fe Yu asked, tone sharp, gaze intense—ready for the slightest threat.
Xian Ling gripped her sword tightly as memories of blazing flames consuming her parents flashed through her mind.
"I'm... Xian Ling. The one whose parents you burned alive—eleven years ago," she stammered, grief etched into her features.
"Oh? Which ones?" Fe Yu asked with a smirk, eyes narrowing. "There are a lot of people I've burned alive. Be more specific."
Xian Ling's gaze fell. Tears rolled down her face. Her right hand clenched the hilt tighter as she raised her head to meet his stare.
Eyes narrowing, she murmured,
"I'm going to kill you."
She stepped forward. The world shifted. Everything turned white—only the two of them remained.
White sword light gathered at her blade's edge.
With laser focus, she dashed forward at incredible speed—nearly 1.44 FS.
([1 FS = 1000 KM/H])
"Inliten Sword Art: First Form – Horizon Split," she called, unsheathing her blade in a flash, slashing horizontally with focused Sword Qi.
CLANG.
Xian Ling stood behind Fe Yu, her sword still raised from the previous strike. She turned to glance back—
SWISH!
Fe Yu's blade tore through the air, green sword light crackling at its edge.
Her eyes widened, but she recovered quickly, ducking just in time.
The slash missed, cutting through the green labyrinth, cleaving leaves in its path.
She leapt backward, flipping several times to increase the distance between them.