Lin Feng stopped in front of the courtyard gate, his gaze calm as he looked at Zhao Gan and his companion blocking the way.
Though his cultivation was only at the Fifth Stage of Body Refinement, compared to Zhao Gan's Eighth Stage, Lin Feng now possessed the Thunder Spirit Root. His spiritual power was far purer than that of ordinary disciples, and he also had the Windstep Manual – Fragment Edition he had recently obtained.
Even so, he didn't wish to reveal all his strength—especially the existence of his wind attribute.
"Senior Brother Zhao," Lin Feng said evenly, "I've only just entered the sect. My cultivation is shallow. I fear I'm unworthy of your instruction."
Zhao Gan sneered, arrogance flashing across his face.
"What's this? Are you afraid? A so-called genius with a Heavenly-grade Spirit Root, scared of an ordinary disciple like me? Don't tell me your spirit root's defective—or that your awakening last time was just dumb luck?"
His follower immediately chimed in, "Senior Brother Zhao's right! Maybe the testing stone was broken. Otherwise, how could someone suddenly awaken a spirit root without any sign beforehand?"
Their voices drew a small crowd. Curious disciples gathered, whispering to each other.
On one side stood the new "genius" everyone had been talking about; on the other, a long-established elite disciple. The tension promised a good show.
Lin Feng frowned slightly. He could tell this wouldn't end peacefully. Zhao Gan was clearly here to test or suppress him—perhaps at someone's command, or simply out of jealousy. If he backed down now, it would only make things worse.
"In that case," Lin Feng said, stepping forward, a faint current of violet lightning flickering beneath his skin, "this junior can only obey. Please, enlighten me."
Seeing Lin Feng accept, Zhao Gan's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Good! Let's see what kind of 'genius' you really are!"
He lunged, palm glowing with earthen light. A heavy wind surged as his Earth-type technique came crashing down—its weight enough to shatter the bones of a Fifth-Stage cultivator.
"It's the Thick Earth Palm! Senior Brother Zhao's strongest move!"
"Lin Feng's done for. How can he block that?"
Gasps echoed around the courtyard.
But Lin Feng didn't dodge. His palm struck out to meet Zhao Gan's head-on—lightning dancing between his fingers with a faint crackle.
"He's going to take it head-on?!"
Boom!
The impact echoed like thunder.
To everyone's shock, Lin Feng merely staggered a step—but Zhao Gan's body trembled violently as a surge of fierce, sharp energy tore through his arm. His muscles went numb; his body skidded backward three full steps before he could steady himself!
"What—?!"
The crowd erupted.
A Fifth-Stage cultivator had just overpowered an Eighth-Stage one in a direct clash! Impossible!
Zhao Gan's face went pale. "Your spiritual power… how can it be so pure and fierce?!"
Lin Feng's calm eyes met his. Inside, he finally understood the terrifying potency of his thunder energy. "Thank you for the guidance, Senior Brother Zhao."
"Bastard!" Zhao Gan roared, humiliated before everyone. With a sharp clang, he drew his sword—the blade glowing yellow with earthen qi. "You caught me off guard just now! Let's see you block this!"
He slashed, sending three earthen sword shadows slicing through the air—up, middle, and down—cutting off all retreat. It was his signature technique: Earth-Splitting Triple Slash!
This time, Lin Feng didn't meet it head-on. Just as the sword shadows reached him, his footwork suddenly shifted—light, elusive, like a breeze slipping through cracks. His figure blurred and vanished from Zhao Gan's attack path!
"What movement skill is that?! So fast!"
In an instant, Lin Feng appeared at Zhao Gan's side. His steps flowed like drifting wind—the first form of the Windstep Manual, Wind Follows Grass!
Zhao Gan's sword struck only air. Panic crept into his eyes. He tried to adjust, slashing wildly, but Lin Feng moved like mist and wind, always one step beyond reach.
After a dozen fruitless strikes, Zhao Gan's breath grew ragged; sweat beaded his brow. His movements faltered.
Lin Feng's eyes flashed. Now.
Lightning roared to life around his fist. "Thunder-Burst Fist!"
He struck forward—simple, direct, unstoppable.
Zhao Gan tried to block, but—
BOOM!
The impact exploded in a burst of violet light. Zhao Gan's sword flew from his grasp; his hands tore open, and his body was hurled backward like a broken kite. He crashed to the ground several meters away, smoke rising from his body, completely unconscious.
Silence.
The courtyard went dead still.
Dozens of disciples stared at Lin Feng—calm, standing with hands behind his back—and then at Zhao Gan's scorched, twitching form.
A Fifth-Stage defeating an Eighth-Stage… head-on.
This was the power of a Heaven-grade Thunder Spirit Root.
Terrifying.
Lin Feng glanced at Zhao Gan's lackey, who stood frozen in shock. "Take your senior brother back for treatment," he said quietly.
The disciple jolted awake, scrambling to lift Zhao Gan and flee.
When they were gone, the others looked at Lin Feng with awe and fear. The doubts and jealousy from before vanished—strength spoke louder than anything else.
Lin Feng turned and walked back into his courtyard, closing the gate behind him.
Today's battle had earned him a foothold in the sect—but it would also draw unwanted attention.
Especially since he had revealed traces of his Windstep technique. He had tried to mask it with thunder energy, but sharp eyes might still notice.
"I have to grow stronger," he murmured, clenching his fist. In his dantian, the faint thunder seal flickered weakly.
Power—
only power—could shield him from the storms to come.