"Disciple, your courage is extraordinary," Lin Feng's Master said, a faint smile on his weathered face. "I like it. Keep it up."
Lin Feng bowed slightly, his eyes bright with determination. "Thank you, Master. I know you have my back. There's a lot I need to discuss."
The Sect Master of the Sword Sovereign Sect's face twitched. "Encourage him? You're supposed to lecture him—not tell him to continue his reckless ways!"
Lin Feng's Master waved him off. "Let's return to the sect. This matter has been settled."
Lin Feng turned to his companions, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Fatty, let's go. Yang Busi, I'll make it up to you."
"Ok," she replied reluctantly, still annoyed but relieved.
---
At the Ouyang family mansion, the Patriarch's face was dark.
"This Lin Feng… he's growing too powerful. His potential is enormous, and as my old rival's disciple, he'll obstruct all our plans."
"Should we contact the Assassination Hall?" one subordinate asked.
"Yes. Make sure a Legend-grade assassin is dispatched. He must die."
"Understood, Patriarch. I will handle it immediately."
---
Meanwhile, in the Martial Sect, the Sect Master's voice thundered through the hall.
"Any disciple above Legend grade who encounters Lin Feng… kill him on sight."
"Understood, Sect Master. But what of his Master?"
"I will deal with him personally," the Sect Master said coldly.
---
"Lin Feng, you will be imprisoned here for three months," a stern voice announced.
"Understood." Lin Feng's gaze was steady.
Now that I've reached the Ninth-grade Xiantian Realm… I need a fortuitous encounter to reach the Heaven Realm. I'll use this time to refine my martial skills.
Inside the prison, Lin Feng sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. His mind calmed, his qi flowing smoothly through the meridians.
He focused on dantian cultivation, forcing energy into the core of his body, tempering the qi to form a stable, dense energy vortex. The circulation felt like a furnace, burning impurities and solidifying his internal energy
While he practiced sword intent, guiding every ounce of his qi into precise strikes. Each swing of his imagined sword was accompanied by a mental map of opponent pressure points and meridian pathways, visualizing lethal strikes.
Combining his body and weapon, integrating Dragon Fist with the Sword of Destiny, flowing qi from dantian through muscles and bones, focusing on explosiveness in punches and lightning-fast footwork. The sound of internal energy striking walls was like thunder in his ears.
By the end of the third month, Lin Feng's body had transformed. His meridians shone faintly with golden qi, his muscles taut and responsive, his sword intent refined to a razor-sharp edge.
--
"I've spent three months in this place… time to leave this damn prison," Lin Feng muttered, stretching his body as he stepped out.
A disciple greeted him. "Senior Brother Lin Feng, your three months are complete. You may leave."
"Thank you." Lin Feng's eyes scanned the courtyard.
"Have you heard? Lin Feng has been released," someone whispered.
"I wonder what trouble he'll cause this time."
"There are Fire Pavilion disciples waiting outside. They're expecting him."
---
Outside the sect, Lin Feng called out.
"Fatty, I'm back from that damn place." No reply.
"That's strange… where could he have gone?" Lin Feng muttered.
A disciple approached. "Senior Brother Lin Feng, Fatty is currently outside settling a matter for you."
"Settling matters for me? Lead the way."
---
They arrived at a clearing where several sixth-grade Heaven Realm experts were gathered.
"I've told you… my boss didn't kill your brother," Fatty said nervously.
"It's a lie!" one disciple snapped. "You must come out so we can settle this."
Lin Feng's eyes narrowed. He stepped forward slowly, his presence exuding suppressed battle intent, qi flowing in tightly controlled spirals.
"Do you know who my boss is?" he asked coldly.
"I don't care! Bring him out!"
Lin Feng tilted his head slightly. His gaze settled on the man who had orchestrated this: Chen Xiao.
The man in question Chen Xiao's subordinate stepped forward, trembling as he saw Lin Feng fully. His face paled, and he immediately fell unconscious, muttering a single word:
"God of Death…"
Lin Feng's eyes gleamed coldly. His three months of disciplined cultivation had sharpened not only his internal energy but his perception and reaction speed to a razor's edge. Every muscle, every nerve, every breath was ready for battle.