High atop Heaven-Mending Peak, above the clouds and worldly bustle, two figures stood before a cliff, gazing into the sea of mist.
One had white hair and a youthful face, clad in black and white Daoist robes, a whisk in hand—the very image of a benevolent immortal. This was the Heaven-Mending Peak Master.
Beside him stood a middle-aged man with a sly grin. "Butian, I hear you're picking a husband for your daughter?"
"Interested?" The Peak Master glanced sideways. "One of your disciples might suit Qian'er well."
"Not a chance." The man shook his head. "My disciples are all flash, no substance. They couldn't handle your daughter. Best find someone else."
"So be it." The Peak Master waved his whisk. "I already have a candidate. Cultivated diligently over three lifetimes, excellent merit and foundation. A thirty percent chance of Foundation Establishment. And after mastering Panlong Zhenren's Nine Transformations Dragon Technique... he'll have the vigor of a true dragon."
"Panlong Zhenren?" The middle-aged man frowned, calculating silently. "Panlong Island has vanished. The opportunity was taken by another. Not your disciple."
"Soon," the Peak Master said calmly. "I've identified the thief and sent Yuanchun to handle it. Order will be restored shortly."
"Tsk. You leave no room for hope." The man shook his head. "The path of immortality is hard enough. Must you be so harsh on juniors? The Holy Sect needs new blood."
"You presume to lecture me?" The Peak Master sneered. "Normally, I might let it slide. But I've calculated—this thief is... unusual."
His tone shifted, tinged with surprise. "A disciple of only a few years. Profited greatly from the Substitute Puppet incident years ago. Cultivated the Blood Transformation Divine Light. Refined a Sword Pill. Mastered the Jade Pivot Sword Pavilion's techniques. And has reached the sixth level of Qi Refining."
"Oh? That remarkable?" The middle-aged man's interest was piqued. "To think our Holy Sect spawned such a talent." He grinned. "Show me. If his innate talent is worthy, we might refine a supreme pill."
"Simple. He's right... Hmm?"
The Peak Master pointed into the distance, then his smile froze.
BOOM!
As his gaze landed, the very mountain seemed to shudder. Rocks tumbled from the edges into the clouds below.
Deep within a cave on the peak, Liu Xin pressed himself to the floor, not daring to breathe.
They're not here for me. They're not here for me.
A Foundation Establishment expert's gaze alone could kill a Qi Refining cultivator. And his son was hidden within his Myriad Spirit Banner. Discovery meant annihilation.
"Don't fear. The divine talisman shields my fate. He cannot deduce me." Trembling, he clutched a hidden talisman.
"Disciple Yuanchun... pays respects to Master."
Lu Yuanchun kowtowed toward the colossal face in the sky, blood on his lips. He felt no joy at survival—only icy dread.
The jade pendant that shattered Lü Yang's formation contained a wisp of the Peak Master's divine consciousness. For a Foundation Establishment disciple, it was a life-saving treasure, nearly impossible to replace. Now it was gone.
He had failed to reclaim Junior Brother Zhao's opportunity. He had failed to protect him. A complete, utter defeat.
With multiple failures stacked, his path to immortality was likely severed.
"This disciple is incompetent." He didn't dare explain. He could only kowtow and wait for his Master to erase Lü Yang before deciding his fate.
Clang!
A sword cry pierced the silence—clear, refreshing, unforgettable.
It began like a gentle spring, then quickened, intensified, swelling into a roaring river that filled heaven and earth.
Lu Yuanchun looked up.
There, in mid-air, a figure stood straight under the True Person's gaze, fearless.
Beneath his feet, a crimson river of sword energy churned—a terrifying aura contained, then shrinking, flowing back into a delicate Sword Pill.
What is he doing?
Lu Yuanchun's throat went dry. He guessed, but couldn't believe it. How can anyone be so audacious? So ignorant of destiny?
Above, the colossal face in the sky frowned slightly.
"You... wish to strike at me?"
Lü Yang's expression was calm. His Sword Pill, having swallowed the bloody river, aimed its sharp point directly at the heavens.
"Senior... I seek your guidance."
The face remained silent, as if the question was beneath contempt.
Then Lü Yang saw it—a black dot in the sky, expanding rapidly, descending with overwhelming pressure.
As it neared, he saw it clearly: a finger, skin纹理 visible, falling from an impossible height.
A realization struck Lü Yang. This was the other's answer:
How can an ant comprehend the height of the sky?
A violent sense of crisis engulfed him, freezing his thoughts—like an ant emerging from its hole to see the vast, crushing sky for the first time.
Trying to crush me with a single finger?
Lü Yang took a deep breath. Then, he burned.
The Killing Curse obtained in his second life activated at full power. At this moment, life and death were cast aside.
Only rage remained.
In this life, I sought no conflict, focused only on cultivation. Yet you calculated my fate, sent people to steal my opportunity, and now personally seek my life.
What cultivation method karma? What predestined opportunity?
Am I destined to be a beast of burden while you reign above?
"KILL!"
Lü Yang roared. His inner energy transformed into a long cry. His towering fury coalesced into a beam of sword light—a single slash, cutting straight through the sky.
A silent collision.
A flicker, like a candle's final flare.
A moment of brilliance.
Then darkness swallowed Lü Yang's vision, and his consciousness faded.