Luo Zhenmu stared at Long Shenyu now, not Long Shenyin.
The pain in his shoulder was severe, but he was a Sky Lord. Pain alone could not shake him. What shook him was the way Long Shenyu had cut Zhao Chuan.
Luo Zhenmu's expression darkened.
A bad thought surfaced in his mind.
This was not a Lower Domain genius with a good weapon.
This was something wearing the cultivation of an Origin Core youth like a disguise.
Lei Yunhe's calm finally broke.
His hand moved toward the wrapped spear on his back.
Slowly.
Not because he wanted to be dramatic.
Because moving too quickly felt dangerous.
The cloth around his spear stirred in the thunder wind. Unlike Zhao Chuan, Lei Yunhe's aura did not erupt recklessly. It condensed. His lightning gathered into thin threads that ran along his arms and into his fingers. His eyes fixed on Long Shenyu with a seriousness that had not been there before.
Lei Yunhe had always believed caution kept people alive.
Now caution screamed in his skull.
Long Shenyu turned his head and looked at him.
That one glance stopped Lei Yunhe's hand.
Long Shenyu scoffed.
"The only reason that trash is alive is because I am curious what you fools have left in your pockets." His blade lowered slightly, but the edge still seemed to rest against everyone's throat. "I need to familiarize myself before I make this arrogant sect bleed to its foundations."
The words dropped over River Ridge City like stones into a still lake.
No one breathed.
Not because they doubted what he said.
Because for the first time, they believed he might mean it.
Zhao Chuan's face went darker than storm clouds.
Endless anger and killing intent swirled within him. His gauntlets crackled. His teeth clenched so hard the sound carried through the silence. Every instinct trained into him by Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace roared for him to attack, to redeem his shame, to crush this youth beneath thunder and drag Ning Huang back by force.
But another feeling rose beneath the rage.
Fear.
It came quickly, and he hated it.
It crawled up from the wound in his chest, from the sword force still disrupting his lightning, from the memory of that narrow blade passing through his technique as if the palm had been no more than paper. He had faced stronger cultivators before. He had sparred with elders. He had endured pressure from Sage Rulers.
This was different.
A stronger cultivator made him feel small.
Long Shenyu made him feel measured.
As if the youth had cut only as deeply as he wished, left him alive only because killing him was not yet useful, and already placed Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace somewhere on a future list of things to destroy.
Lei Yunhe tightly gripped his spear.
Cold sweat slipped down the side of his face.
He did not wipe it.
He was too focused on Long Shenyu's blade.
Long Shenyin glanced at Zhao Chuan, then at Lei Yunhe, then at Luo Zhenmu. Her lips curled.
"Like I said," she spat, "mortals are foolish without a proper hand over them. These mere Noble Domain sects are less than dogshit."
The insult was so viciously casual that it struck harder than anger.
Mere Noble Domain sects.
Less than dogshit.
If anyone else had said such words in River Ridge City, the city would have laughed before watching them die. Even the Qin Family would not dare speak that way of Verdant Edge, much less Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace. Those forces stood above cities like River Ridge the way mountains stood above roadside stones.
But Long Shenyin had just broken Luo Zhenmu's sword ring with one spear.
Long Shenyu had just split Zhao Chuan's thunder palm with one blade.
So nobody laughed.
Nobody even moved.
Lu Jiangheng was trapped between humiliation, rage, and fear. His face changed again and again. He wanted to shout that Verdant Edge would not forgive this. He wanted to say Luo Zhenmu had only been caught off guard. He wanted to turn to the Qin Family and order them to activate formations, surround the area, do something.
But his voice would not come.
Because Long Shenyin's spear was still in her hand.
And she looked like she would enjoy any excuse.
Luo Zhenmu's gaze was full of deathly hatred, yet he did not dare breathe too loudly. His sword intent gathered, collapsed, gathered again, unable to decide whether to attack or retreat.
If he attacked now, his right arm would not respond properly.
If he retreated, Verdant Edge's face would be damaged beyond repair.
For the first time in many years, Luo Zhenmu found no acceptable choice.
Zhao Chuan's killing intent surged.
Lei Yunhe's did too, colder and narrower, like lightning hidden inside a spearhead.
Neither of them moved.
That fact became more terrifying than any attack.
Zhao Chuan's fingers sank into the grooves of his black thunder gauntlets.
His face twisted.
This damned low-born bastard.
He was a sixth layer Sky Lord of Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace. Even in the Noble Domain, disciples and elders of lesser sects gave him face. In cities like River Ridge, he should have been a storm descending on ants.
Yet now he was bleeding in the sky while an Origin Core youth rested a narrow blade on his shoulder as if the entire matter had already grown boring.
Long Shenyu stood a short distance away, robes calm in the thunder wind. "That was your warning," he said. "Use your hidden items now."
Every cultivator who heard him felt their scalp tighten.
Zhao Chuan's eyes turned bloodshot. Lei Yunhe's fingers closed around his wrapped thunder-spear until the cloth creaked.
"You know we have them?" Lei Yunhe asked.
Long Shenyu smiled.
"Sects like yours are all the same. No matter how high you place yourselves, you are turtles wearing thunderclouds as shells." He tilted his head slightly. "You always keep a few life-saving things for when your mouths drag you into trouble your hands cannot solve."
His smile thinned.
"Stop wasting my time."
Zhao Chuan coughed up blood. "You dare—"
"I dare many things." Long Shenyu looked at him as if he were examining a cracked cup. "You, however, are running out of them."
That line cut deeper than the wound.
Zhao Chuan's killing intent surged, but the surge was uneven. The sword force in his chest stirred again, and his aura broke for the briefest instant. It was only a breath. Only a flicker.
But everyone saw it.
The Qin Family elders watching from a distant tower felt their hearts twist at the same time.
Qin Roujian's face turned ugly.
He had spent decades judging sword intent, battle posture, and the invisible shift between advantage and collapse. What he saw now made his throat dry.
Long Shenyu's gaze swept the sky with lazy indifference, but his thoughts were clear.
He could not let Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace believe he was harmless.
If they thought that, they would send more Sky Lords. They would send enforcement teams, inspection elders, righteous decrees, and endless flies claiming to act for Ning Huang's protection.
He also could not show so much that they immediately decided he was an old monster wearing a young body and had to be erased by late-layer Sage Rulers.
That would be troublesome.
Not frightening. Merely troublesome.
He needed the middle ground.
Dangerous enough that ordinary enforcement could not take him. Strange enough that rash escalation might cost too much. Valuable enough that ambitious elders would want to investigate before striking. Unclear enough that protectors and grand elders would hesitate, argue, send reports, wait for confirmation, and waste time.
Time was what he wanted.
Time to cultivate.
Time to strengthen Mei Qingxue and Shen Lanyue.
Time to make Ning Huang stop pretending her heartbeat did not change around him.
Lei Yunhe watched him silently. Unlike Zhao Chuan, he did not let rage carry him forward. His gray eyes were cold and controlled, but deeper now. He had recognized something Zhao Chuan still refused to accept.
Long Shenyu was provoking them on purpose.
The question was why.
Lei Yunhe's grip tightened on his spear.
"Why are you going this far?"
Long Shenyu raised a brow. "Going far?"
"You are strong. I admit that." Lei Yunhe's voice was low, steady, and without Zhao Chuan's wild heat. "But strength is not the same as foundation. One man, no matter how talented, cannot resist one of the Seven Great Noble Domain powers forever. Ning Huang is one of ours. If you simply release her, this matter can still be controlled."
Ning Huang's face tightened.
The words were reasonable.
That made them worse.
If Zhao Chuan had shouted, threatened, or cursed, she could have dismissed him. But Lei Yunhe spoke as Heaven's Edict taught its enforcement disciples to speak—like a man reciting the weight of a mountain.
Strength was not everything.
Behind Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace stood elders, protectors, law halls, inheritance towers, tributary cities, and the shadow of a half-step Emperor ancestor. A war-heiress was not only a disciple. She was status. She was investment. She was doctrine made flesh.
If Heaven's Edict allowed her to remain beside a man who openly humiliated them, what did that say to the Noble Domain?
What did it say to their enemies?
What did it say to Lei Tianzhao, the Heaven's Verdict Prince, who already believed all resistance to Heaven's Edict was resistance to heaven itself?
Ning Huang expected Long Shenyu to laugh.
She expected him to mock Lei Yunhe's sect, speak of conquest, or say he would kill anyone who came.
Instead, Long Shenyu glanced toward her.
The look was casual. Almost lazy.
But his voice softened.
"Release her?" he said. "I have deep feelings for her. I want her to be my wife eventually."
Ning Huang froze.
For one breath, thunder stopped mattering.
The pressure over River Ridge stopped mattering.
The blood, the sword, the watching elders, the enemies, the Saint-level threats hidden in storage rings—everything fell away before those shameless words spoken before an entire city.
Long Shenyu continued, as if he were discussing the weather.
"She is stubborn, proud, beautiful, and very cute to tease. Your minor sect wants to stand in my way?" His smile returned, calm and merciless. "Then I will remove whatever stands there."
The city went quiet.
Truly quiet.
On distant rooftops, cultivators forgot to breathe. In the Qin Family towers, elders stared as if their souls had slipped halfway out of their bodies. Lu Jiangheng's mouth hung slightly open. Luo Zhenmu's eyes narrowed, but even he did not speak.
Mei Qingxue's eyes softened.
Shen Lanyue's cold expression trembled faintly. The movement was small, but real. Her fingers tightened once around her sleeve before relaxing again.
Ning Huang's lips parted.
No words came out.
Her fingers curled against her palm. Her heart beat so hard it hurt. She should have been furious. She should have told him to shut up. She should have cut him down with a cold sentence and reclaimed the dignity he had thrown into chaos.
Instead, her throat felt tight.
"You…" Her voice came out lower than she intended. "You are insane."
Long Shenyu heard her clearly.
He smiled.
"I'm just honest."
That nearly broke her composure.
Ning Huang looked away first, and that alone was enough to make several people who knew of her reputation doubt their own eyes.
Zhao Chuan stared at Long Shenyu as if he had heard the most absurd thing in the world.
"You truly think you can resist the entire Heaven's Edict Thunder Palace?"
Long Shenyu's expression did not change.
"There is nothing to resist," he said. "None of you can do anything to me."
Lei Yunhe's gaze deepened.
That answer was not merely arrogant. It was different from arrogance. Arrogance wanted others to believe. Long Shenyu did not seem to care whether they believed him or not.
He spoke like a man stating something already proven.
A snort cut through the silence.
Long Shenyin stood not far from Luo Zhenmu, her Black Sun Tyrant Spear angled lazily downward. The spearhead was dark, heavy, and silent, yet Luo Zhenmu could feel his injured shoulder tighten whenever it shifted.
"Pathetically foolish," she said.
Long Shenyu glanced at her. "Got something to say? You always seem awfully frustrated whenever I'm successful."
Long Shenyin laughed, sharp and mocking.
"Successful? All you do is cultivate with your lower body. Even other dual cultivators have more discipline than you."
A few cultivators below nearly choked.
Mei Qingxue's face turned red. Shen Lanyue's expression chilled, but the tips of her ears betrayed her. Ning Huang, despite everything happening around her, felt heat rise to her cheeks.
Long Shenyu scoffed.
"Me? Mindless?" He shifted the Sky-Severing Narrowblade off his shoulder and pointed it toward Long Shenyin with the familiarity of someone who had done this countless times. "Dual cultivation is still cultivation. Better than becoming a true mindless beast who thinks every problem in creation can be solved by stabbing it."
Long Shenyin slowly turned her spear away from Luo Zhenmu and pointed it at him.
Luo Zhenmu stiffened on instinct.
Then his expression darkened.
She was ignoring him.
Completely.
He, a fourth layer Sky Lord of Verdant Edge Sword Sect, had become less important than a sibling argument.
Long Shenyin stepped forward through the air. Each step made faint waves of killing intent roll outward. They were not strong enough to attack, but strong enough to remind everyone that beneath her casual posture lived something made for war.
"The forces I raised were monsters," she said. "They conquered battlefields. They conquered worlds. They conquered anything they put their minds to. Far better than your meager bedroom arts could ever touch."
Long Shenyu smiled mockingly.
"And yet those monsters always seemed to fall short of mine."
Long Shenyin's eyes sharpened.
He continued, blade still pointed at her, voice smooth as flowing wine.
"My people could smile after taking worlds. Yours looked like they were carved out of a slaughterhouse wall and only taught to march and kill."
The corner of Long Shenyin's mouth twitched.
Dangerously.
"Say that again."
"You heard me clearly."
For one strange moment, River Ridge forgot what it was watching.
Two monstrous beings hovered above the city, one with a sword, one with a spear, surrounded by wounded Sky Lords, Noble Domain envoys, terrified city elders, and pressure heavy enough to crack rooftops.
Yet they sounded less like two monstrous terrors and more like siblings about to overturn a family table.
That absurdity weakened the tension by a hair.
Only a hair.
But Lei Yunhe noticed.
His eyes flicked toward Zhao Chuan.
He did not believe Long Shenyu was truly careless. Not fully. But no opening in battle was ever pure. A wise fighter did not wait for certainty. Certainty came after death. Before that, there were only chances.
Zhao Chuan was already moving.
His rage had not vanished, but it had narrowed into action. His right hand slipped toward his storage ring. Blood dripped from his palm onto the white-gold jade hidden between his fingers.
Lei Yunhe gave the smallest nod.
Zhao Chuan crushed the jade.
Crack.
The sound was small.
The response was not.
A white-gold command light burst from Zhao Chuan's palm and shot upward like a decree escaping into the heavens. At the same time, Lei Yunhe drew a palm-sized bronze disk from inside his robes.
The disk looked old.
Damaged.
Several edges were cracked. A small piece was missing from the center, leaving a dark crescent-shaped flaw in its face. Its surface was engraved with layer upon layer of cloud patterns, thunder marks, and tiny characters so dense that weaker cultivators felt dizzy after a single glance.
The moment it appeared, a pressure far beyond Heaven Rank spread across River Ridge City.
It did not explode.
It descended.
Like an unfathomable elder opening his eyes from a thousand miles away.
Ning Huang's face lost all color.
"Stop!" she shouted. "That is a Saint Artifact!"