The sky rang like heavenly bells as the large, ornanted cauldron — seemingly forged from the most flawless white tal — tolled like a bell each ti it slamd into the barrier. Each strike sent fissures crawling across the once-powerful and impenetrable protective layer, threatening to shatter it completely. The cauldron's deafening chi reverberated through the sect, shaking the hearts of all who heard it.
Above them stood Wen Ran's master, his figure wreathed in fla, like a demon king towering over a world of ants. Right now, he seed like an immortal god, capable of turning the heavens and earth upside down with a flick of his palm. His presence alone was enough to stir the slumbering demons buried deep within the sect's foundation — one of whom was already awakening.
Deep within the sect's depths, a muscular figure lay dormant in ditation. His skin was red, like molten iron freshly drawn from the forge. His powerful aura flickered like flas, licking the air around him. His ancient eyes — closed for years — suddenly snapped open, gleaming with renewed vigor. His hair, once a lifeless white, seed to regain a subtle silver sheen as power flooded back into his body.
A low growl escaped the man's lips as he rolled his cracking shoulders and stretched his neck. His fingers reached for the massive blade resting beside him — a weapon as large as a small house, its tallic black surface radiating a cold, murderous aura.
"An old friend has co to visit… Is it my birthday yet?" The man chuckled darkly, though his voice grated like tal scraping against tal. A wild glint flickered in his grey eyes — the craving for a long-awaited battle. Despite his previously withered appearance, each step seed to restore him, muscles swelling with power. His dry, cracked skin began to smooth and glow with renewed life, as if decades of age had been peeled away in an instant. Now appearing no older than Wen Ran himself, his presence radiated the oppressive strength of a Nascent Soul expert. With a flick of his wrist, he slashed through the air with his fingers, tearing open a rift before vanishing into the void with a crazed smile.
anwhile, Wen Ran remained motionless, still chained and helpless. He couldn't move, yet he managed to exchange a silent nod with his master. Guilt never crossed his mind. After all, for once, this disaster wasn't his fault. Since there were powerful figures willing to fight for him, why not let them?
"Once again! Hand over my disciple to , or I will burn this sect to the ground!" Wen Ran's master roared, his voice shaking the air. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, seemingly calm despite the fire of rage in his eyes. There was no desperation in his voice — no frantic plea to save his student. Instead, there was sothing deeper... sothing that would soon reveal itself.
"Brother Xiao Lingyun, why are you screaming so loudly behind closed doors?" A powerful yet oddly relaxed voice echoed in response. "Have you grown so senile that you've lost your mind?"
From a rift in the sky erged a youthful-looking man, shirtless and radiating dominance. His well-defined muscles glead in the sunlight, his chiseled fra putting even the strongest of disciples to sha. Female disciples within the sect blushed and whispered among themselves, drawn to his magnetic presence. Little did they know, this man was their sect master — a figure who had remained unseen for over five centuries.
Xiao Lingyun's eyes narrowed with barely contained hatred and envy as he hovered slightly higher in the sky, asserting dominance with his elevated position.
"I see you're still as poor as ever, Brother Mo Tianhong," Xiao Lingyun sneered. "Even with an entire sect supporting you, you never seem to afford clothes." He shook his head in mock pity. "Co to my Heaven Shattering Sect — I'll ask our sect master to give you a job as a shit cleaner. After all, that's the only thing you're good at." His words echoed like thunder, leaving no room for dignity. The crowd below froze — shocked that anyone would dare insult their sect master so brazenly. Even Wen Ran couldn't help but smirk.
Tell him, old man… haha, what a way to treat a sect master... Wen Ran chuckled inwardly, despite the blades still hovering dangerously close to his throat. Any sudden movent could end his life, yet he couldn't help but enjoy the show.
Mo Tianhong smiled warmly, yet there was a flicker of sothing dangerous behind his eyes. "How many years has it been, brother?" he asked with a sigh. "It feels like just yesterday we were fighting over Yan Shuixue... yet in the end, she didn't choose either of us. What a pity." His warm smile widened. "How about we sit down for so tea and talk like old friends? What seems to be the problem? I wouldn't expect soone as cautious as you to storm into my sect without a reason. Did you co for another fight? But with your re first-circle cultivation..." He let out a cold chuckle, his mockery piercing the air like a blade.
Xiao Lingyun laughed coldly in response. "Hahaha! So much shit is spilling from your mouth, I can even sll your breakfast from here," he spat. "If you wanted a peaceful chat over tea, why did you bring your weapon?" His flas flared brighter. "Give back my disciple, and explain yourself to my sect — or prepare for war. Only one of us will leave here alive."
Power surged from Xiao Lingyun's body, a heat so intense that even Mo Tianhong felt a shiver crawl up his spine.
Mo Tianhong's eyes darkened. "So you've been hiding such power... remarkable. To think soone at the first circle of Nascent Soul could unleash such force." He smiled darkly. "Then today, I'll end your life — for the old tis' sake." His gaze drifted to Wen Ran, still chained at the square's center. "Oh? What a vile-looking brat... Execute him." His casual command thundered through the sect, making countless disciples' hearts tremble.
The order wasn't just an execution — it was a declaration of war.
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