That morning, the White Jade Tower rose high into the clouds, its surface bathed in a soft spiritual glow. Golden bells hung from its eaves, chiming gently in the wind. At one of its tall windows stood a man dressed in flowing robes of pale blue, white, and shimmering gold, embroidered with celestial patterns in fine golden thread. He sipped his tea quietly as he watched the sun rise on the horizon.
Not far behind him, a woman stood on the polished floor, her gaze fixed on a glowing spirit orb that hovered in the air. Within it, a projected scene played out—a sparring match between newly recruited outer sect disciples. After Elder Meng Qi explained the unfolding scene, the sect master, who had been silently observing until now, finally turned his gaze toward her.
"I didn't expect him to be so skilled as a sword cultivator at such a young age."
Upon hearing this, Meng Qi responded.
"Sect Leader, do you believe he has a master who taught him to reach such a high level of swordsmanship?"
Han Feng paused for a moment, seemingly considering his thoughts.
"These days, it's rare to find a true master. Most only look at the grade of one's spiritual root, bone marrow, or bloodline. Unlike in the past, when resources for cultivation were more plentiful, many now—whether rogue cultivators or sect elders—believe that nurturing ordinary cultivators, the so-called 'dust cultivators,' is a waste of time and resources."
"In that case, Sect Leader, what do you think of Uchiha Madara?"
"He is among the few who stand out from the dust cultivators—if we do not count the fact that he possesses a bloodline. As for that bloodline... I have no idea what grade it is. This is the first time I've ever heard of the name 'Uchiha Bloodline.'"
"He possesses three elemental affinities, though," Meng Qi added, brows slightly furrowed.
"Yes," Han Feng nodded. "But even then, his spiritual root is merely uncommon. Because of that, it is extremely difficult for him to strengthen the power of each affinity. On top of that, the Qi absorption rate of an uncommon root is slow, and its potential for growth is limited. For someone like him, trying to harmonize multiple elements becomes even more challenging."
Meng Qi fell silent. What the Sect Leader said held truth. Many dust cultivators she knew had either halted their cultivation altogether or struggled endlessly, forced to give up because of the vast resources required just to break through. Compared to their peers with superior spiritual roots, bone marrow, or bloodlines, they could only fall behind.
"And as for having a master," Han Feng continued, "in my view, it's highly improbable. There is nothing extraordinary in his background or personal status. The only noteworthy thing is his bloodline—and even that, we can't determine its grade."
"Sect Leader… then how did he attain such refined swordsmanship at such a young age without the guidance of a master? That means…"
Han Feng gave a calm nod. "He honed it through relentless effort and personal experience. As the saying goes, —Experience is the second teacher."
He gently poured tea into his porcelain cup, the rising steam curling like mist. Then he spoke once more,
"As for Madara's bloodline… it is classified under the Nameless Category."
"Nameless Category?" Meng Qi asked in surprise.
"Yes," Han Feng replied. "It bears no record in ancient texts, sect annals, or bloodline registries. In most cases, this happens when the individual—or the bloodline itself—originates from a secret realm."
---Secret Realm (秘境 / Mìjìng): is a hidden or isolated dimension or pocket world that contains rare treasures, ancient inheritances, dangerous beasts, or powerful opportunities for cultivation.---
"So Sect Leader, are you saying that Madara—or perhaps his clan of origin—came from a secret realm? "
After taking a sip of his tea, Han Feng replied calmly,
"It's possible. It could also be his parents. There have been accounts from cultivators claiming to have seen a small village hidden deep within a secret realm—likely trapped there for a long time. And when that secret realm was closing, some cultivators reported seeing people from within trying to cross into the main realm—the Lantian World—before the gateway shut."
"There are also cases here in Lantian where a person's bloodline is concealed or dormant, often requiring specific conditions to awaken. After all, just because a bloodline is dormant doesn't mean it's low-grade or inherently weak. Its strength still depends on how the bearer cultivates and uses it."
"Because of what he displayed during the sparring battle, I'm certain many outer sect disciples are now training even harder—especially the two fellow sword cultivators from this sect."
Once Han Feng returned to his seat behind the desk, his expression turned serious as he asked,
"Elder Meng Qi, have there been any recent reports about the Evil Cultivators?"
After returning the spirit orb to her storage ring, Meng Qi bowed and cupped her fists.
"None yet, Sect Leader. They remain elusive."
Han Feng let out a deep sigh at her words.
"For decades now, there's been no sign or trace of them…"
Lowering his head slightly, Han Feng whispered to himself as he gazed at his desk.
"Mother… Father… Sister… I'm sorry I still haven't brought you the justice you deserve."
His daze was broken by the sound of knocking on his office door. When he gave permission to enter, the door opened—and the moment it did, he immediately stood up from his seat and cupped his fists in greeting. Meng Qi did the same beside him.
"Granny Ming," the two said softly, bowing slightly to the elderly woman who had just entered the room.
The old woman smiled and gently gestured for them to raise their heads.
"You've come to visit, Master," Han Feng said with a calm tone.
The old woman nodded subtly in response. After a few moments of casual greetings, Elder Meng Qi took her leave, having finished her report to Sect Leader Han Feng. Once the two were seated at the desk, Granny Ming began to speak.
"Han Feng, are you still planning to ascend to the Immortal Realm?"
"Yes."
"It seems I won't be able to stop you anymore."
A brief silence passed between them before Granny Ming asked again.
"Have you chosen someone to succeed you as Sect Leader?"
After taking a sip of tea, Han Feng replied,
"Not yet."
"You only have three years left to choose among the…"
Granny Ming trailed off as she noticed Han Feng staring blankly into his cup of tea.
"Is something bothering you?" she asked.
"Ah, no, Master. I just… remembered something."
The old woman nodded slightly in understanding. As Han Feng continued explaining who he thought might be fit to take his place, Granny Ming found her thoughts drifting elsewhere.
If I hadn't accidentally killed the man, I loved… she mused silently. If I had borne a child, he would've been around Han Feng's age by now.
She watched him quietly as he spoke.
After a few more minutes of discussion had passed, Han Feng asked,
"Master… what if you became Sect Leader again?"
Granny Ming chuckled softly.
"No, I'm far too old for that. Besides, I only have a few years left in this world."
...
Elsewhere, in a closed, secluded room, a man sat cross-legged, his body glowing faintly with light. He was fully focused on his meditation, having just consumed several cultivation pills. After a few minutes of absorbing their energy using his technique, the glow around him gradually faded.
Slowly, he rose from his seated position and murmured,
"It's still not enough… I can't break through to the Soul Realm yet."
Moments later, a voice emerged from his storage ring, resuming the conversation they had started earlier.
"Do you think he was reincarnated? His age doesn't seem to match his physical appearance."
"It's possible," the man replied. "There are written accounts of people who have been reincarnated. There's also a chance he came from a secret realm, especially considering his bloodline—which doesn't appear in any of Lantian's ancient records."
"Then, is there a chance he's using some kind of artifact? " asked the voice from within the storage ring.
"Very likely. He might be using an artifact or a technique to conceal his true form. In any case… let's continue observing him for now."
...
The morning mist clung to the dense jungle, muffling sound and swallowing light. When Uchiha Madara and Luo Feiyan finally reached the territory where the Ghostleaf Mantises had last been sighted, they both drew their swords from their storage rings without hesitation.
"This terrain makes it easy for the Ghostleaf Mantis to camouflage," Madara muttered, his eyes scanning the greenish jungle around them.
As Luo Feiyan released a trace of Sword Qi, a sudden surge of Qi erupted from one of the thick bushes. Instantly, Madara infused his sword with Sword Intent. Both took defensive positions, their senses on high alert—when suddenly, Feiyan was attacked from the right. She barely blocked the strike in time, but the sheer speed and force sent her flying to the left, separating her from Madara by several meters.
At the same moment, Madara sensed danger from above. He looked up and saw a blade-like limb descending toward his head. With no room to dodge, he raised his sword and angled it, deflecting the strike to the side while sidestepping right to gain distance.
In that split-second exchange, he caught a full glimpse of his attacker: a Ghostleaf Mantis—two meters tall, lean yet muscular, with a leaf-colored exoskeleton and razor-sharp forearm blades nearly a meter long. As it turned to face him, its large amber compound eyes stared unblinking, antennae twitching constantly.
From afar, Madara saw Luo Feiyan already locked in combat with two more mantises. He was about to charge forward when a fresh surge of Qi flared from both his flanks. Reacting instantly, he leapt back and used the Body Flicker Technique to evade.
Reappearing several meters away, he was met by two more Ghostleaf Mantises, their bladed limbs raised to strike. Without hesitation, Madara unleashed the Great Fireball Technique, expelling a massive sphere of flames from his mouth. The mantises flapped their wings and leapt into the air, retreating in opposite directions to dodge.
But something was wrong—Madara watched them vanish mid-air, their forms fading like mist.
"This mission's harder than I expected…" he muttered
A violent surge of Qi behind him snapped him back to focus. He spun around, his sword already glowing with Sword Intent, clashing against a descending blade. Beast Qi screeched against steel as the mantis launched a relentless barrage, forcing him too backward.
Before he could regain his footing, three more mantises burst from the foliage—completely concealed until now. In an instant, four Ghostleaf Mantises surrounded him, circling like predators.
Madara retaliated with another Great Fireball Technique, spinning as he unleashed flames in all directions. But once again, the mantises took to the air, dodging with ease. He followed with Sword Qi Slashes, sending deadly arcs across the field, but the Ghostleaf Mantises were too fast.
"Ranged attacks won't work," he thought grimly. "I need to finish this fast."
With a burst of Body Flicker Technique, Madara vanished—then reappeared above a mantis. His sword dropped like a meteor, piercing through the beast's neck joint in a single, clean kill.
But it wasn't over.
The remaining mantises shrieked in rage. The scent of blood had attracted even more. Within moments, eight Ghostleaf Mantises surrounded him, eyes glowing with primal hunger, blades gleaming under the filtered sunlight.
Madara's mind raced.
I could use Chidori, Wood Clone, or even Nativity of a World of Trees...
But most of them aren't fully mastered yet. The clone can't even use techniques.
Since there's no other way, I'll rely solely on my sword to end them.
He moved.
Like a flowing river, he became motion and death incarnate—his swordsmanship precise, footwork flawless. His blade slashed, thrust, and parried in perfect rhythm. His steps spun, slid, and advanced with no wasted motion. He flipped over sweeping limbs, rolled beneath strikes, and twisted between attacks with acrobatic grace.
Whenever a mantis tried to vanish, he would instantly close the gap with Body Flicker Technique, striking before it could disappear.
Still, the battle was brutal. The mantises struck with deadly force, their blades slicing the air. Despite his speed, Madara suffered gashes along his arms and back. But for every wound he received, he returned death with greater fury.
One by one, they fell. He aimed for weak points—the neck joints, the underbellies, the heart-cores. His strikes were merciless. His mind never wavered.
The last mantis lunged in a final, desperate strike.
Though bloodied and worn, Madara didn't hesitate. With one final flicker, he vanished—only to reappear beneath the beast. His blade surged upward, piercing its abdomen. The mantis let out a shrill cry… then fell, lifeless.
Breathing heavily, he stored all nine mantis corpses into his storage ring. The moment the last one vanished into his spatial storage, he turned toward the direction Luo Feiyan had been sent flying.
"She's still fighting…" he muttered. "I need to hurry."
Without delay, he vanished again toward her at full speed.