The Heavenly Sword Sect was not merely a school; it was a fortress carved into the clouds. Seven jagged peaks rose like the fingers of a giant, each connected by shimmering bridges of spirit-jade. As Han Feng and Mu Qing'er approached the base of the main ascent, the air grew thick with the scent of pine and the sharp, metallic tang of sword intent.
"We are here," Qing'er said, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and pride. Her wounds had been stabilized by a healing pill Han Feng had "borrowed" from the crippled Elder's storage bag, though her face remained pale.
At the foot of the "Stairway to Heaven"—a flight of ten thousand marble steps—stood two massive statues of swordsmen. Between them, a group of disciples in pristine white robes patrolled.
"Stop! This is the territory of the—" the lead guard began, but he choked on his words as soon as he saw Qing'er. "Young Miss! You're injured! What happened to the convoy?"
"Ambushed by the Blood Shadow Pavilion," Qing'er said, her voice hardening. "If not for the timely intervention of Young Master Han, I wouldn't be standing here. Inform my father immediately."
The guards turned their gaze toward Han Feng. He was dressed in travel-stained robes, looking more like a wandering scholar than a cultivator. They couldn't sense a single drop of Qi from him—the System had placed him back into "Passive Stealth" mode to conserve energy.
"This... scholar?" one guard whispered skeptically. "Young Miss, the Blood Shadow Pavilion sent a Core Formation Elder. How could—"
"Silence!" a cold, haughty voice interrupted.
From the top of the stairs, a figure descended, seemingly gliding on the wind. He was a young man, perhaps twenty-five, with a face that looked like it was sculpted from ice. His robes were embroidered with gold thread, indicating a status far above the average disciple.
[Scanning Entity...] [Target: Lu Chen. Rank: First True Disciple.] [Cultivation: Core Formation Layer 2.]
Lu Chen landed gracefully, his eyes immediately locking onto Qing'er. "Qing'er, I heard there was trouble. My heart nearly stopped." He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she subtly stepped back, moving closer to Han Feng.
Lu Chen's eyes flickered, his gaze shifting to Han Feng like a blade. "And who is this... commoner?"
"This is Han Feng," Qing'er said firmly. "He is a guest of the Mu family and my savior. He defeated the Blood Shadow Elder."
Lu Chen let out a short, mocking laugh. "He defeated a Core Formation Elder? Qing'er, the trauma must have clouded your senses. This boy doesn't even have a Dantian pulse. He's likely a scout for the enemy who staged a 'rescue' to gain your trust."
Han Feng yawned. "You know, for a 'True Disciple,' your imagination is a bit overactive. Is everyone in this sect this paranoid, or just the ones with gold embroidery?"
The guards gasped. Nobody spoke to Lu Chen that way.
Lu Chen's expression didn't change, but the temperature in the air dropped by ten degrees. A chilling frost began to creep across the marble steps. "Arrogant. I don't care what trick you used to fool a frightened girl, but you won't fool me. Guards, seize him. If he resists, break his limbs."
"Lu Chen, stop!" Qing'er cried out, but it was too late.
The guards lunged, but Lu Chen was faster. He wanted to humiliate Han Feng personally. He flicked his wrist, sending a blast of icy Qi toward Han Feng's chest. It was a strike intended to freeze a man's meridians instantly.
[Ding!] [Threat Detected: Lu Chen (Core Formation Layer 2).] [Logic Triggered: Host level must be n+1.][Current Peak reached: Core Formation Layer 6.] [Note: Host is already significantly higher than the target. No further adjustment needed.]
Han Feng didn't even raise his hands. He simply stood there.
The icy blast hit his chest and... vanished. It didn't just fail to hurt him; it was absorbed into his body like a drop of water falling into a furnace.
"Is that it?" Han Feng asked. "I've had colder drinks in my office."
Lu Chen's eyes widened. "Impossible! No one below the Core Formation stage can take my Frost-Bite Palm head-on!"
"Then I guess I'm not below it," Han Feng said. He took a single step forward.
BOOM!
He released just a fraction of his Core Formation Layer 6 aura. It wasn't a pillar of light this time, but a concentrated wave of pressure that hit Lu Chen like a physical hammer.
Lu Chen, the "Genius" of the Heavenly Sword Sect, was slammed back into the marble stairs. The stone shattered under the impact. He coughed, his face turning from pale to a ghostly white as the sheer weight of Han Feng's cultivation pressed him into the ground.
"Layer 6..." Lu Chen gasped, his voice trembling with terror. "You're... at the Peak of the middle-stage Core Formation? At your age?"
The guards fell to their knees, unable to breathe. The statues of the swordsmen seemed to groan under the pressure.
Han Feng walked up to the crater where Lu Chen lay and looked down at him. "You wanted to break my limbs? I'm right here. Why aren't you moving?"
"Young Master Han, please!" Qing'er rushed forward, grabbing his arm. Her touch was warm, a sharp contrast to the cold aura he was emitting. "He is an idiot, but he is the First Elder's grandson! Killing him here will cause a war within the sect!"
Han Feng looked at her, then back at the shivering "Genius." He retracted his aura instantly. The pressure vanished, and the birds began to sing again as if nothing had happened.
"Fine," Han Feng said, wiping a speck of dust from his sleeve. "But tell him that if he points a finger at me again, I'll make sure he never holds a sword for the rest of his life."
Just then, a bell tolled from the highest peak. Three long, resonating strikes.
"The Sect Master," Qing'er whispered. "He's calling for an audience. He felt your aura."
Han Feng looked up at the highest peak, where a figure in violet robes stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down at them. Even from this distance, Han Feng could feel a gaze that could pierce through mountains.
[Scanning Distant Entity...] [Target: Sect Master Mu. Cultivation: Nascent Soul Layer 2.]
Han Feng's lips curled into a grin. Nascent Soul, huh?
[Ding!] [Logic Initializing... Host Level Adjustment: Nascent Soul Layer 3.]
"Well," Han Feng said, stepping over Lu Chen's prone body. "Lead the way, Qing'er. I'd hate to keep your father waiting."