"How dare you mock our captain!" someone snapped.
"Let me teach him a lesson." Lin Feng's voice was calm — and then he was gone.
A thunderous crack split the air.
Bam.
The Sun family patriarch flew backward like he'd been struck by a battering ram. He spat blood that splattered across the lacquered floor. When he tried to draw breath he found his chest collapsing inward; bones in his ribcage had splintered as if hit by a hammer.
Even through the haze of pain, the patriarch's eyes narrowed. "A Heaven-realm expert… to be injured like this from a sneak attack — he must be connected to the Sword Sovereign Sect," he murmured, disbelief and calculation warring in his voice.
"Senior, forgive me — I failed to gauge your strength. I am Sun Yang." Sun Yang bowed deeply, cupped fist to chest. "Take this medicine. It will help your injuries."
"Thank you," the patriarch rasped. Someone moved to help him inside.
Sun Yang turned and introduced his guests without ceremony. "This is my daughter, Sun Mei. Come greet him — he's a talented disciple of the Sword Sovereign Sect."
At the sight of her, Lin Feng stopped. For a second the noisy hall, the blood, the broken tiles — everything blurred.
Holy— she was even more beautiful than Yang Busi, he thought, voice lost to his own head.
Sun Mei's cheeks warmed when she noticed how he stared. She worked quickly to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and forced a polite smile.
Sun Yang sensed the sudden silence and broke it with a laugh. "Sun Mei, take them to the guest room."
"Okay, Father. Come with me." She nodded politely, then gave Lin Feng a softer, almost curious look as she led him away.
"Fatty, let's go,"
"Ok, boss." The other replied. "Boss, she's really beautiful. Why don't you propose to her?"
Lin Feng flushed at the comment. "I know, but it doesn't work like that. I'll win her heart — don't worry."
"That's my boss," the man crowed fiercely, half in jest, half in boast.
Sun Mei's face burned redder at the exchange. She glanced at Lin Feng, then away, trying not to smile.
"This is your room," she said when they arrived.
"Don't call me 'Senior,'" Lin Feng corrected. "My name is Lin Feng."
"You can call me Fatty Wang," the man offered with a grin. Sun Mei and Lin Feng exchanged awkward laughs. The introductions settled into an uneasy warmth.
---
Later, when the others had left, Lin Feng slipped into his little world — an inner realm he carried like a locked door in his mind.
A voice crackled, clipped and cold. "Let me examine him."
"Where is this place?" he asked aloud.
"Who helped your sect break the seal?" the voice demanded.
"Why should I tell you?" the other answered, defiant.
"You sound like you want to die," the voice warned.
Anger flared, then pain. "Damn it — I'll tell you. The Ouyang family helped us."
"No surprise." The reply was flat. "Hand over your spatial ring."
He hesitated. The ring contained everything he'd gathered over the years — treasures, trinkets, memories of risks and victories. He ground his teeth.
"Give it," the voice ordered.
Reluctantly, he handed over the ring. Lin Feng scanned it with probing divine sense; something gleamed within the ring that did not belong to common treasure. A single drop of thick, red liquid pulsed with an ancient aura.
"What is this?" Lin Feng whispered.
"That's dragon blood essence," the man from the ring explained. "I found it in the Western Continent. I've never been able to absorb it — it's incompatible with my bloodline."
"Bloodline?" Lin Feng frowned, unfamiliar with the term.
The man explained steadily. "You don't know about bloodlines? In higher realms most cultivators possess them. They're rare in the lower realms. Dragon bloodlines are among the rarest. I — I have the Evil Demon bloodline."
Bloodlines came in ranks, he explained, each rank determining the inherent power the bloodline conferred.
"Stay here. I'll be back." Lin Feng felt an odd certainty as he left the man in the small guest room and retreated fully into his inner world.
"Absorb the dragon essence," an ancient voice ordered inside his mind.
"What? I don't have a bloodline," Lin Feng protested.
"You do have one — though I can't name it. But it's a dragon bloodline," the voice insisted.
Without fully understanding why, he swallowed the viscous drop in a single, impulsive gulp.
Bam.
A storm of sensation tore through him. He felt something living in his chest — a hunger, an ache — as the essence sank into marrow and muscle. In his inner sight a dragon coalesced: nine heads writhing within scales of night and flame. A roar erupted inside his skull, a sound that shook the foundations of his consciousness and knocked him into darkness.
When he came to, two days had passed.
"You've been asleep for two days," the ancient voice observed.
"That long?" Lin Feng sat up, dizzy but alive. He tested himself. "Wait… my cultivation — I've advanced to the half-step of the Legend realm."
The voice hummed with a new resonance. "You've unlocked the Legendary Nine Devouring Dragon bloodline."
"Legendary… nine devouring dragon?" Lin Feng asked, each syllable heavy with awe.
"It's a bloodline coveted by the most powerful experts on the peaks of the world," the voice explained. "It can absorb blood essences to accelerate cultivation and increase its own power. It grants its bearer unique techniques. But listen: when it reaches Rank Nine, it will be noticed. Those experts will come for you."
Lin Feng's face darkened. "Then I have to grow fast."
He felt a new martial skill stir in his mind as if it had been waiting for him, coiled and ready.
A loud knock shattered the quiet.
"Who's there?" Lin Feng called.
"Boss — where have you been? The invaders have attacked for two days, and Sun Mei has been captured!" Fatty Wang's voice bellowed outside the door.
"What? Sun Mei's been captured?" Lin Feng's pulse spiked. Rage flooded him, fierce and clear. "They'll pay for this. I'm going to kill them all."