Months had bled together inside the sealed chamber, and what had begun as thirty-five cultivators sitting cross-legged in silence had changed into something else entirely.
The chamber was no longer just a place of cultivation, it had become a city in miniature. Traders bartered spirit herbs and pills for rare ores, healers took pride in patching up injuries from reckless duels, and more than one fool tried to carve out a political party, peddling promises in exchange for votes that meant nothing here.
Yao Jun played the game better than any of them. Calm speeches, clever words, and the charisma of someone who never raised his voice but always made people listen. He was the quiet center around which petty leaders broke themselves. And every time one of them tried to claim authority, Yao Jun and Shen Hao dismantled them, Yao Jun with his tongue, Shen Hao with his fists.
By the second year, the chamber had rules. Rules born not from order, but from fear.
Because no one dared provoke Shen Hao.
The Whispering Gale Slash left scars gouged into the stone floor. The Stormbreak Steps turned him into a blur, his form vanishing before an opponent could blink. And the Flowing Ember Art, no one who saw its embers dancing on his skin wanted to test how deep its fire burned.
Yet arrogance was as endless as cultivation itself.
It began with whispers, that Shen Hao's techniques could be stolen, that his strength wasn't unshakable. Then came the first ambush. A lone cultivator, desperate and bold. Shen Hao crushed him with a single strike. The second attempt came weeks later, three attackers together. They lasted a little longer, their blades flashing in the air, but their bones still cracked beneath Shen Hao's counter.
But today was different.
When Shen Hao emerged from meditation, shaking the sweat from his brow, he felt it immediately, killing intent, pressed sharp against his skin.
The sound came next. Dozens of feet shifting at once, soft but purposeful. Shadows peeled away from the far walls of the chamber. One after another, more than ten cultivators stepped forward, circling him like wolves around a lone stag.
At their center stood a tall man with pale silver eyes and a jagged scar down his throat. His voice carried a low rasp.
"Shen Hao. You've hoarded enough. Today, we take what you guard."
Lingfeng's voice buzzed in his hand, dry and amused.
"Oh, finally. I was beginning to worry no one had the guts. Master, do we scare them now, or later?"
Shen Hao's lips curved in the faintest smirk. His hands flexed, flames flickering faintly at his knuckles.
"Later," he murmured.
The silver-eyed man roared, slashing forward, and the ambush began.
The first strike came fast, a blade of Qi cutting the air with a hiss sharp enough to rattle the runes carved into the chamber walls. Shen Hao shifted a half step, Stormbreak Steps carrying him just out of reach. The blade struck nothing but the afterimage he left behind.
The silver-eyed leader snarled. "Now!"
The circle closed. Ten cultivators surged in unison, Qi erupting like a storm. Some struck with blades, others with spears, others still conjured raw elemental force, fire, lightning, stone. The air cracked with violent intent.
Shen Hao's veins lit with flame. He raised his palm and pushed.
Ember burst.
A wave of heat rippled outward, knocking three attackers back instantly. Their bodies smoked, skin blistering where the fire had kissed them. The rest pressed harder, trying to pin him before he could gather more Qi.
Lingfeng's voice rang in his hand, playful even in the chaos.
"Ten against one. Either they think you're weak, or they're even dumber than they look. I'm betting on the latter."
Shen Hao spun the dagger once, catching a descending halberd on Lingfeng's edge. Sparks flared. With a flick, he twisted the weapon aside and drove his elbow into the wielder's chest. Bone cracked. The man flew back, coughing blood.
Another cultivator darted from the left, her fingers splayed as threads of lightning coiled around her wrist. Shen Hao's aura flickered. Stormbreak Steps. He blurred, vanishing before the lightning could bite, reappearing behind her shoulder. Whispering Gale Slash whispered from Lingfeng's blade, the strike was silent, but when it landed, her robes tore in a clean line and her Qi dispersed, body collapsing unconscious.
The remaining seven hesitated. Just for a moment. But in that pause, fear crept in.
From the edge of the chamber, other cultivators watched in silence. Some widened their eyes. Some smiled grimly. No one moved to help.
Yao Jun, seated at his cultivation circle, opened one eye. His calm smile lingered, as though the outcome was already written.
The silver-eyed leader barked, desperate to keep his men steady. "He bleeds like us! Press him! Take him down!"
Four charged together, weapons raised. Shen Hao inhaled, his Qi surging. Flowing Ember Art coiled through his channels, each cycle burning hotter. Flames licked across his skin. He didn't dodge this time, he met them head-on.
The first spear shattered against his shoulder as if striking iron. Shen Hao's palm snapped forward, flames detonating against the wielder's chest. The man screamed as fire clung to him, forcing him to roll on the ground.
The second swung a hammer down. Shen Hao caught it bare-handed, flames wrapping his grip, and twisted. The weapon wrenched free, the cultivator staring wide-eyed before Shen Hao's knee slammed into his ribs, sending him tumbling into the stone wall.
The third and fourth tried to flank him. Too slow. Shen Hao's step blurred again, Stormbreak Steps carried him forward in a gust of wind, Lingfeng flashing out. Whispering Gale Slash whispered once, twice. Both assailants collapsed, their weapons clattering as blood dotted the stone.
Only three remained now.
The silver-eyed leader's calm cracked, sweat dripping down his jaw. His scarred throat tightened as he forced more Qi into his limbs, the air humming with pressure. The other two stood shakily, their confidence shattered but fear of their leader chaining them in place.
Lingfeng chuckled low.
"Master, do you smell it? That's desperation. Nothing quite like it. Shall we break them now?"
Shen Hao exhaled, his flames dimming as he steadied his stance. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked on the leader. "You wanted what I guard. Then come take it yourself."
The chamber went silent, all eyes fixed on the final clash.
The clash ignited like thunder. Qi flared across the chamber, blades of light, fists of flame, and torrents of wind colliding in an eruption of chaos. The cultivators who had waited patiently for months now fought like rabid beasts, desperation etched into every strike. The prize wasn't herbs or pills, it was dominance, reputation, and survival.
Shen Hao stood at the center of it. His aura burned with the Flowing Ember Art, embers flickering across his frame with every step. Lingfeng danced in his palm, laughing as currents of wind swirled wildly around them both.
"Master! Left, watch the claws!" Lingfeng's sharp voice rang just in time. Shen Hao spun, Stormbreak Steps blurring him a full circle away as a hulking beastman cultivator slammed his clawed hand into the stone where Shen Hao had stood. The ground cracked like glass beneath the blow.
But Shen Hao didn't retreat. He surged back in, Whispering Gale Slash igniting. His strike cut through the air, invisible and silent, until it cleaved across the beastman's side. The opponent roared, staggering, blood spraying as Shen Hao's aura seared the wound shut with ember heat.
Around them, Yao Jun fought with his companions. His strikes were calm, deliberate, precise. Where Shen Hao burned bright, Yao Jun cut like a shadow, an unseen current that carved through chaos with elegance. Together, the two held the chamber like twin pillars, their presence forcing others to rethink every move.
Still, greed made fools bold. A group of six cultivators rushed Shen Hao at once, Qi techniques layered and overlapping. Firestorms, blades of stone, arcs of lightning. The entire chamber lit up like a storm-ridden sky.
Shen Hao drew in a sharp breath. The Flowing Ember Art roared inside him, cycles of fire and renewal bursting into his limbs. He slammed his palms together, Qi surging outward, a bloom of fire erupting around him. It devoured the attacks head-on, flames tearing through the storm until ash rained across the chamber.
One attacker fell screaming, another staggered back, skin blistered. The rest froze, just long enough for Shen Hao to appear in front of them with Stormbreak Steps. His blade cut once. Twice. Three invisible lines carved into the stone before their bodies dropped, groaning, defeated.
"Master, you're stealing the spotlight again," Lingfeng teased, though his tone carried pride. "At this rate, they'll start calling this the Shen Hao Chamber instead."
Shen Hao didn't answer. His eyes swept the chamber, sharp and unyielding. The chaos raged on. Some cultivators broke, fleeing to the edges. Others pressed harder, hoping to claim glory. Yet every strike only seemed to feed the fire in Shen Hao's chest.
He was no longer just surviving. He was shaping his legend.