Fang Han revealed the truth about killing Zhao Xuanyi and Song Weiyi for one reason only—to amplify his influence within Yuhua Sect and earn genuine respect, not just fear.
Defeating Wan Luo, Meng Shaobai, crippling Fang Man, and manipulating the Mountain River Ranking Tournament had secured his authority internally—but internal suppression only created dread.
True admiration only came from victories against outside enemies.
For centuries, cultivators across the world had long despised the arrogance of the Taichu Sect. Yet no one dared speak out—Taichu's power was too vast; a single offense could bring endless retaliation. Even many elders of Yuhua resented Taichu's dominance.
So when the hall learned Fang Han had decisively slain two of Taichu's Golden Core elites, shock mingled with exhilaration. It was vengeance by proxy—sweet, satisfying, cathartic. Some elders even regretted not witnessing the moment with their own eyes.
To kill two Golden Core titans of Taichu…
The image alone sent blood boiling.
The reception hall was roaring with voices until Fang Han raised a hand. The gesture seemed to suppress sound itself—everyone instantly fell silent, subdued by his mere presence.
The elders of the three sword sects exchanged startled looks.
"He hasn't even formed a Golden Core," one thought, "yet his aura alone commands a room. If he reaches Core Formation, or Heaven-Fire Tribulation, or manifests a Heavenly Phenomenon… could he rival the ancient giants?"
Elder Swordmad broke the silence.
"This matter should not be excessively publicized. Taichu Sect still cares for face. They know they acted shamefully, which is why they don't dare pressure Fellow Daoist Fang Han. But if rumors explode across the world, they may lash out in humiliation. Sometimes… concealing the truth is wise."
"Hmph. Do you think Taichu hasn't already tried to erase me?" Fang Han sneered. "Their Supreme Elder, Tai Huangtian, struck at us in the time-tunnel. He tried to kill us all. If not for the Ancient Demon intervening, we'd already be dust."
"What?!"
Elder Danxiaozhi paled. His mind jumped immediately to the strange behavior of his own Sect Master—storming deep into the sect to confer with the Supreme Elders, then returning with a face twisted in silent fury.
So Fang Han's accusation… was almost certainly true.
The three elders exploded with outrage.
"Taichu Sect is shameless!"
"They wanted to kill us just to bury the secret!"
"This is worse than demon clans—at least demons keep their word!"
Their anger was mixed with lingering terror. If not for the Ancient Demon, they would have died without even leaving a trace—and even their own sects would have been powerless to voice a protest.
Tai Huangtian was a monster who had ruled a hundred thousand years earlier, a near-immortal who once shook the heavens during the Ancient War of Gods and Demons. Against someone like that, even the current sect masters could only swallow blood and pretend ignorance.
Fang Han seized the moment.
"Therefore," he said, "we cannot afford to show Taichu too much courtesy. Still, now is not the time for open conflict. The demonic path circles hungrily—we must not tear ourselves apart. At this moment, Yuhua Sect and the three sword sects should stand united. Only then can we reclaim our prestige in the Grand Assembly of Immortals three years from now."
The three elders nodded solemnly.
Then Fang Han shifted the topic.
"The access talisman for the Five Elements Land is in my hands. I must soon deliver a message to Starfire Sect, inviting them to send elite disciples so we may form a joint Immortal Alliance disciplinary force. The goal is for our sects to train together, handle internal disputes, and enter the Five Elements Land as one."
He looked at the visiting elders.
"I wonder if the three sword sects are willing to form such a disciplinary force with us and Starfire Sect."
The elders exchanged glances.
"This proposal… was once put forth by Taichu Sect," one admitted. "But the world rejected it—everyone feared Taichu might use such a force to interfere in other sects."
Fang Han continued calmly, though plans churned beneath his expression.
"We would limit the force to five sects only—Yuhua, the three sword sects, and Starfire. Its authority would cover internal disputes between our own disciples, not external sects. I will accompany these disciples to train in the Five Elements Land. I will also supply cultivation pills."
Outwardly, it was a diplomatic offer.
Inwardly, Fang Han was plotting.
With a legitimate disciplinary force—one recognized by the leaders of all five sects—he could openly target traitors within their ranks.
Starting with Hua Tiandu.
Once the force existed, and once he stood as its commander, Hua Tiandu would no longer be an internal rival—he would be a violator of inter-sect law.
A perfect noose.
In his mind, Fang Han laughed.
Hua Tiandu… the moment this force is founded, your days are numbered. Under the banner of justice, I will crush you. Resist, and the entire alliance will condemn you as a criminal.
The three sword elders felt the weight of his proposal.
"That is no small matter," Elder Swordmad said. "I must report to the Sect Master. But with enough pills supplied… it is highly likely to succeed."
"We will treat this as our sect's highest priority," the others agreed.
The three sword lights soared away.
Fang Han watched them vanish, a cold smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.
The Five Elements Land plus abundant pills—how could any sect refuse?
Within a year, the disciplinary force would form.
Within two, it would strengthen.
Within three…
Three years would be enough to strangle Hua Tiandu's ambitions.
After the elders left, Fang Han visited Fang Qingxue's Purple Lightning Peak to deliver the remaining one million Nascent Soul Pills, clearing his debts entirely.
Then he prepared to depart.
He needed to visit Starfire Sect—first to deliver Feng Baiyu's letter, second to propose the joint disciplinary force, again sweetening the deal with the Five Elements Land and pills.
He was also curious to see other immortal sects, compare their foundations, their disciples, their pride. Shockingly, he realized he had never visited any other sect besides Yuhua.
After arranging his mountain, leaving the Witch to guard it, and giving several instructions, Fang Han set off with Nebula Baby, flying straight toward the Starfire Sect.
Their mountain gate lay deep within Fallen Star Mountain, a colossal range created when an ancient celestial body crashed into the world. Fang Han had witnessed vast star-flesh pits and celestial ruins—he understood how enormous such a fallen star must have been.
The mountain range stretched hundreds of thousands of miles, across dozens of nations. It was riddled with dragon veins, spirit rivers, ore-rich caverns, celestial herbs, rare beasts, and remnants of starlight. Some claimed cultivating here allowed one to draw on astral power itself.
But Fallen Star Mountain was far from Yuhua Sect, hidden behind countless peaks, barriers, and illusions. Most people could never find it.
For Fang Han, distance meant nothing.
He shot across the sky faster than thunder, his flight so refined that even the air produced no ripple or sound—every vibration folded into momentum. It was a trick he'd learned while fighting Meng Shaobai: harmonizing his qi with the wind, spinning turbulence into propulsion.
Even a Golden Core expert of the seventh stage would fail to sense him.
Just then, as he streaked through the sky, a faint cry—thin, weak, almost ethereal—slipped into his mind as spiritual intent.
"Help… help me… someone, please…"
Fang Han stopped instantly.
The voice was coming from the ground below.