The biting mountain wind carried a heavy layer of frost across the upper reaches of Ice Mystic Peak as Railin stepped out from the mouth of Frost-Heart Cavern. His dark navy-blue inner-disciple robe, emblazoned with subtle silver ice-crests along the borders, fluttered gently in the mountain gale. The bitter cold that could easily freeze the blood of ordinary disciples had zero effect on his newly stabilized Stage 4 body. Every breath he drew was calm, steady, and measured, his refined meridians channeling purified Spiritual Qi throughout his limbs with effortless precision.
Standing upon the edge of the icy cliff, Railin looked down at the vast expanse of the inner section. Jagged mountain peaks pierced through a thick ocean of cloud and mist, connected by suspension bridges, flying boat docks, and towering wooden pavilions. Down below, the daily life of the sect was in full motion—flying beasts soared between peaks, disciples traversed stone pathways in groups, and the distant chiming of the section's morning bell echoed across the valley, signaling the start of daily assemblies.
Railin closed his eyes slightly, expanding his spiritual sense outward like an invisible, delicate web. His spiritual range, now significantly enhanced by his stage breakthrough, swept across the mountain trails and lower plazas. He could hear the low hum of conversations, the clashing of training swords at the lower martial grounds, and the subtle shifts of elemental energy across the terrain.
Unsurprisingly, his name was on everyone's lips.
Word of his solitary return from the lethal Sun-Moon Abyss—where over two hundred inner direct disciples had entered and never returned—had spread like a raging wildfire. However, the true details of his survival had been twisted. Sword Peak and its allied factions had wasted no time in shaping a dark, sinister narrative. In the eyes of the uninformed lower-tier disciples, Railin was no longer seen as a brilliant genius or a miraculous survivor; he was being painted as a cold-blooded, ruthless opportunist who had betrayed his fellow disciples in the chaotic depths of the Abyss, slaughtering them in secret to plunder ancient treasures and force his own breakthrough.
Railin's dark eyes remained calm, indifferent, and unreadable. He had spent his entire life in the shadows of the noble family structure, watching how high-ranking factions used slander, political leverage, and public framing to protect their supremacy. To him, their desperate attempts to turn public opinion against him were nothing more than the panicked squirming of prey caught in a trap.
'Let them speak...' Railin thought, a faint, cold glint passing through his eyes as he pulled his gaze back from the distant valley. 'Public outrage means nothing on the trial ring. When the time comes, words will not save them from my blade.'
Far across the central valley, shielded within the towering, sword-shaped spire of Sword Peak, a secret gathering was taking place deep within an underground sanctuary.
This chamber was constructed from dense, energy-suppressing dark granite and further isolated by high-grade anti-divination inscriptions. Glowing crimson arrays floated silently along the walls, casting sinister, blood-red shadows over a triangular iron table set in the middle of the room. The atmosphere was heavy, tense, and suffocating.
Hao-Lin sat at the head of the table. He was dressed in a lavish, gold-trimmed martial robe signifying his status as Sword Peak's top direct candidate, but his handsome face was contorted with suppressed rage and jealousy. Beside him sat his cousin, Shu-Lin, looking entirely calm and composed. The cunning young woman from Shadow Moon Peak slowly poured tea from a porcelain pot, her movements elegant and unhurried despite the disastrous failure at the Frost-Mist Trail.
Opposite them sat a broad-shouldered, towering man clad in the formal dark armor of a Senior Central Council Enforcement Officer. A long, jagged scar ran from his left temple down to his jawline, giving his weathered face a permanent, sinister menace. This was Officer Meng, a powerful figure within the council's administrative arm who had long been bound to their mother's noble family through deep bribes and mutual interests.
"The six Dark-Assassins sent to the Frost-Mist Trail were completely wiped out," Officer Meng spoke, his voice low, heavy, and gravelly like grinding stones. "They didn't even leave behind actionable corpse evidence or residual soul traces. The Ice Mystic Peak elder who inspected the destruction site officially reported that the trail was attacked by unauthorized trespassers who were eliminated in self-defense. Central Council cannot launch a formal investigation against Railin for that incident without exposing your mother's secret operation."
Hao-Lin slammed his palm down onto the iron table, causing the tea cups to rattle violently. "So he gets away with butchering our men right on our doorstep?! Those were Stage 4 combat specialists! How can an illegitimate parasite who just broke through erase six trained assassins without taking a single scratch?!"
"Control your temper, Hao-Lin," Shu-Lin chided smoothly, gesturing lightly with her fingers to stabilize the floating ripples of spilled tea with a flick of wind Qi. "The Frost-Mist Trail ambush was merely an informal test—a quick attempt to handle the problem before he could set foot inside his peak's protective grounds. Now that Railin has fully stabilized his Early-Stage Four foundation inside Frost-Heart Cavern, direct covert assassination inside the sect is too risky. Peak Master Bing Lian is watching Ice Mystic Peak closely. We must transition our strategy to the section's official channels."
She turned her sharp, feline eyes toward Officer Meng. "Has the Central Council finalized the bracket structure for the upcoming Grand Assembly Trial?"
Officer Meng leaned forward, placing his thick, scarred forearms onto the iron table. "The general framework was established yesterday morning. However, with the political leverage from your family's matriarch and the backing of two influential elders from Shadow Moon Peak, we have enough authority to adjust the match pairings under the official excuse of 'balancing talent tiers' and 'testing combat stability'."
"Tell me the exact plan," Hao-Lin demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"Under normal section rules," Officer Meng explained, a cruel, calculating smirk appearing on his scarred face, "newly promoted Stage 4 disciples are placed into separate, lower-tier brackets during the preliminary rounds to prevent early elimination of rising talents. However, we will formally register Railin's rapid breakthrough as an 'unstable energy anomaly' that poses a safety hazard to lower disciples. To 'verify' his stability, the council will assign him directly into the high-intensity bracket from Round 1."
"And who is his first-round opponent?" Shu-Lin asked, leaning in with a sharp smile.
"We have arranged for him to face Senior Brother Feng from Iron-Claw Peak," Officer Meng answered darkly.
Hao-Lin's eyes widened slightly before a vicious, satisfied grin broke across his face. "Feng? The physical monster who cultivated the Vajra Corpse Technique into Mid-Stage Four?!"
"The very same," Officer Meng nodded. "Feng's body refinement is renowned across the entire inner section. His skin is as tough as tempered steel, his bones are dense as iron, and his combat style is brutally ruthless. He doesn't just defeat his opponents in the ring—he breaks their limbs, shatters their ribs, and ruptures their meridians. Even if Railin possesses some hidden artifact from the Abyss and manages to survive, Feng will force him to burn through his core energy and expose every single secret card he holds."
"And if Feng fails to cripple him entirely?" Hao-Lin asked, seeking absolute guarantee.
"If Railin somehow manages to bypass Feng," Officer Meng continued cold-bloodedly, "his second match in the bracket will be directly against you, Hao-Lin. By that point, his spiritual energy will be heavily drained, his body battered from fighting a Mid-Stage Four physical titan, and his meridian flow unstable. You will step onto the trial ring before the entire section and finish him off publicly under the legitimate excuse of an 'unfortunate martial accident'."
Hao-Lin let out a harsh, triumphant laugh that echoed through the underground chamber. "Brilliant! A grand public stage, a battered and exhausted opponent, and absolute legal protection under section rules! I will personally crush his bones on that ring, tear off his limbs, and reclaim whatever ancient royal heritage he managed to steal from the Abyss!"
Shu-Lin raised her tea cup, her eyes shining with cold malice. "To Railin's inevitable demise on the trial ring."
While the dark conspiracy was being finalized deep within Sword Peak, Railin was already making his way down the winding, snow-dusted stone steps of Ice Mystic Peak toward the central valley's lower district.
He was well aware that merely refining his Early-Stage Four foundation was not enough. The Grand Assembly Trial was an intense, multi-day tournament where top disciples from all four peaks would compete for ultimate rankings, rare cultivation resources, and section prestige. To not only win but to completely overwhelm his enemies and force his cultivation closer to the Quasi-Saint (Half-Saint) boundary, he needed high-tier medicinal pills and rare forging materials to strengthen his physical body and nourish his Golden Aptitude's internal flame.
His destination was the section's famous Spiritual Resource Pavilion—the central hub where rare herbs, spirit stones, ancient weapons, and high-grade pills were traded under the supervision of section elders.
As Railin walked through the bustling stone pathways of the Central Trade Plaza, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. Disciples from various peaks—Sword Peak, Shadow Moon Peak, Iron-Claw Peak, and Ice Mystic Peak—stopped in their tracks. Whispers spread like a cold wind through the gathering crowds.
"Look... over there! That's Railin from Ice Mystic Peak!"
"Is that really him? I heard he murdered Senior Brother Xiang's entire team inside the Sun-Moon Abyss just to steal a ancient Spatial Core!"
"Lower your voice! Look at the invisible pressure around him... the rumors were true! He really broke through to Stage Four Foundation Establishment!"
"So what if he reached Stage 4? He used dark, underhanded methods inside the Abyss to steal fortune from his senior brothers! Senior Brother Hao-Lin and the top disciples of Sword Peak will never let him leave the Grand Assembly Trial intact!"
Railin paid no mind to the hostile glares, pointing fingers, or venomous whispers surrounding him. His posture remained straight, his steps firm and unhurried as he walked straight up the wide marble stairs leading into the grand entrance of the Spiritual Resource Pavilion.
The pavilion was an imposing, five-story stone structure constructed from spirit-absorbing granite, decorated with carved dragons and ancient elemental runes. The interior was massive, filled with rows of glowing crystal display cabinets housing rare spiritual herbs, glittering spirit stones, glowing medicinal pills, and high-tier armor pieces. Dozens of disciples and inner stewards were browsing and trading along the vast hall.
Railin walked straight toward the central administrative counter, where a senior steward wearing long gray robes was inspecting a ledger. Hearing footsteps, the steward looked up. When his eyes fell upon Railin's inner-disciple badge and dark navy robe, a subtle flicker of surprise, followed by cold disdain, crossed his face.
"Inner Disciple Railin," the steward spoke in a dry, formal voice, barely hiding his condescension. "What resources do you require from the pavilion today?"
Railin placed a heavy, leather pouch filled with top-grade spirit stones onto the wooden counter. "I need three stalks of Frost-Dragon Grass, two pounds of Refinement Meteor Iron, and one Nine-Sun Core Pill."
Hearing the request, the steward blinked in surprise. The Nine-Sun Core Pill was a high-tier Stage 4 medicinal pill capable of cleansing impurities from the blood and boosting internal fire energy—an extremely valuable resource for cultivators seeking physical stabilization.
The steward glanced at the heavy pouch of spirit stones, then let out a slow, deliberate sigh, pulling back his hands into his sleeves.
"The Frost-Dragon Grass and Meteor Iron can be provided," the steward said in a flat tone. "However... the Nine-Sun Core Pill is currently unavailable for general exchange. All remaining stock of Nine-Sun Core Pills has been officially reserved for the elite core candidates of Sword Peak and Shadow Moon Peak who are preparing for the upcoming Grand Assembly Trial. Inner disciples from other peaks must wait until next month's allocation."
Railin's dark eyes narrowed slightly. He knew the section's administrative rules inside out—high-grade pills were strictly allocated based on a disciple's current cultivation tier and contribution points, regardless of peak affiliation. This was clearly another intentional hurdle created by administrative stewards aligned with Sword Peak to choke off his access to cultivation resources prior to the tournament.
Before Railin could speak, a heavy, booming voice laced with harsh mockery echoed from the pavilion's entrance.
"Save your breath, trash! High-grade pills like the Nine-Sun Core Pill are meant for true elite geniuses who represent the glorious future of our section—not for illegitimate parasites who rely on fluke luck and backstabbing their senior brothers!"
The loud voice reverberated across the vast pavilion hall, drawing the immediate attention of dozens of browsing disciples and stewards.
Railin turned around slowly, his expression devoid of any emotion.
Standing near the main entrance was a towering, broad-shouldered young man with dark, iron-colored skin and massive, muscular arms covered in faint metallic scars. He wore the heavy, steel-plated armor characteristic of Iron-Claw Peak, and his dark eyes burned with blatant provocation and hostility. Flanking him were four junior disciples from Iron-Claw Peak, all sneering with arrogant contempt.
It was none other than Senior Brother Feng—the feared Mid-Stage Four physical specialist of Iron-Claw Peak.
Feng stepped forward, his heavy, steel-shod boots slamming against the polished marble floor, making the ground tremble slightly with every step. He stopped just five paces away from Railin, towering over him like a mountain of iron, looking down with a sneer.
"I heard you managed to crawl out of the Sun-Moon Abyss alive while better men perished," Feng spat, his voice booming across the entire floor. "You think breaking through to Early-Stage Four makes you a big figure in this sect? In my eyes, you're still the same useless, motherless insect you were a year ago! A fluke breakthrough built on stolen blood!"
The surrounding disciples gathered along the edges of the hall, whispering in excitement as they realized a heavy confrontation was brewing between two Stage 4 figures right inside the pavilion.
"That's Senior Brother Feng from Iron-Claw Peak! His Vajra Corpse Technique is at the 4th realm!"
"Railin is in deep trouble now... Feng is a Mid-Stage Four physical titan! His fist can shatter mountain boulders!"
"Is a fight going to break out inside the pavilion?!"
Railin stood perfectly still amidst the rising noise. He looked up at Feng's towering frame, his pitch-black eyes meeting the giant's aggressive glare with an eerie, unnerving stillness.
"Are you done barking?" Railin asked softly. His tone was completely flat, as if he were asking about the weather.
Feng's face darkened instantly, the veins on his forehead bulging with sudden rage. "What did you say, you little bastard?!"
"I asked if you were done barking," Railin repeated, taking one slow step forward.
BOOM—!
The moment Railin's foot touched the floor, an invisible, terrifying spatial domain erupted from his body! The sheer weight of his stabilized Stage 4 Golden Energy was compressed into a razor-thin directional beam, slamming directly down onto Feng's shoulders like an invisible collapsing mountain!
The onlookers saw nothing, but Feng's eyes widened in sudden, horrifying shock! His knees trembled violently, and the stone floor beneath his boots cracked under the sudden, immense pressure crashing onto his body!
"Because if you have nothing useful to say," Railin whispered, his voice sounding like a chilling whisper from a death god, "get out of my way before I clear this path myself."
For a split second, an instinctual terror gripped Feng's heart—a sensation of cold death he had only ever felt when facing senior peak elders! But his immense pride as a Mid-Stage Four master, combined with the presence of dozens of watching disciples, instantly burned away his hesitation in a wave of humiliation and fury.
"You arrogant little brat! I'll break every bone in your body!" Feng roared in fury, his right arm swelling to twice its normal size as dark gray metallic light flared across his skin, activating the full power of his Vajra Corpse Technique!
SWISH—!
Feng's massive, metal-plated fist tore through the air with explosive speed, creating a sonic boom that shattered several glass display cases nearby as it aimed straight for Railin's chest with lethal force!
"Senior Brother Feng activated his Vajra Fist!" a disciple screamed in terror.
BOOM—!
A violent shockwave tore through the first floor of the pavilion, kicking up a gust of wind that blew back the surrounding onlookers!
However, the expected gruesome sight of Railin being blasted across the pavilion wall did not happen.
Railin hadn't even reached for his sword. He hadn't even shifted his stance. He had simply raised his left hand, his slender, fair fingers casually catching Feng's massive, metallic, rock-shattering fist right in front of his chest!
THUD!
The explosive impact and devastating momentum of Feng's strike vanished instantly into thin air, completely absorbed into Railin's spatial domain. Not a single inch of Railin's footing moved, nor did his navy-blue robe flutter from the physical strike.
"W-What?!" Feng's eyes bulged in absolute horror. He tried to pull his massive fist back to strike again, only to find his hand clamped in an immovable, ancient mountain vise! No matter how much his Mid-Stage Four physical Qi surged, he couldn't move his hand by a single millimeter!
Railin looked up into Feng's pale, sweat-drenched face, his pitch-black eyes glowing with a subtle, terrifying golden flame deep within the pupils.
"Your so-called Mid-Stage Four physical body..." Railin whispered coldly, his slender fingers slowly tightening their grip.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK—!
The thick, reinforced steel armor plating covering Feng's fist began to bend, buckle, and shatter! Terrifying sounds of crushing metal, snapping bone, and tearing flesh echoed loudly through the silent hall!
"AARGHHH—!" Feng let out an agonizing, blood-curdling scream, his massive body collapsing to his knees as the sheer, unyielding physical power of Railin's Golden Aptitude crushed his entire hand into bloody ruin!
"It's far too weak," Railin finished softly.
With a casual, effortless flick of his wrist, Railin tossed the heavy, towering titan backward like a discarded sack of iron.
BANG—!
Feng's massive frame flew fifty feet through the air, crashing violently through two solid granite display counters before slamming hard against the far stone wall! He spat out a huge mouthful of dark blood, his heavy metallic armor completely shattered into fragments as he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious and bloody!
Silence—absolute, terrifying silence—descended over the entire Spiritual Resource Pavilion.
The four junior disciples who had accompanied Feng were frozen in horror, their faces pale as sheets. The surrounding disciples stood motionless, their eyes wide with disbelief, unable to comprehend what had just transpired. A renowned Mid-Stage Four physical powerhouse had been defeated, crushed, and thrown aside like trash in less than two seconds... with a single hand!
Railin turned back slowly toward the main counter.
The gray-robed senior steward was trembling violently, his hands shaking so hard he could barely hold his ledger. His face was devoid of all color as he looked at Railin as if looking at a monster disguised in human skin.
Railin picked up his pouch of spirit stones and tapped it lightly against the counter, his voice remaining as calm and polite as if nothing had happened.
"Now... hand over the Nine-Sun Core Pill.
SEE YOU IN NEXT CHAPTER!