When the Sect Master dismissed the assembly, Haotian rose and bowed. The elders parted for him as he walked toward the steps, his presence calm yet undeniably changed. Lianhua moved to his side, lowering her head shyly under so many watchful eyes. Still, she reached out — and Haotian's hand met hers without hesitation, their fingers interlocking.
Outside the pavilion, a crowd had gathered. Disciples who had witnessed the vortex, guards who had heard rumors, servants whispering tales of a storm that came and vanished — all turned as one when the pair appeared. But this time, there was something different in their gazes. The Sect Master's acknowledgment had carried weight. Where once they saw only speculation, now they saw something closer to truth.
Respect. Admiration. Envy.
And teasing.
"Senior Brother Haotian!" one voice called, full of laughter. "A grown man indeed!""You hid your strength too well!" another joked, though the meaning behind the words was clear."Poor Sister Lianhua — does she even have the strength to keep up?"
The laughter rolled through the courtyard, and though some bowed respectfully, others smirked knowingly. Lianhua's cheeks flamed red as the female disciples closed in again, eager to tug her away just as they had earlier.
But this time, Haotian's expression darkened. His golden aura flared out in a sharp burst, shaking the flagstones beneath their feet. His eyes narrowed in a glare that froze the crowd where they stood. The teasing broke off in startled silence; the disciples stumbled back, wide-eyed, not daring another word.
For a moment, the courtyard was utterly still.
Then —
A soft laugh broke the silence.
Lianhua was giggling. She leaned into his arm, her head resting against his shoulder, her smile bright and mischievous despite her blush. "You got angry," she teased, her voice low so only he could hear. "You really didn't want them to take me again, did you?"
Haotian's gaze softened immediately. His arm shifted just slightly, holding her hand more firmly. "Of course," he said with quiet certainty. "You are the one I love. I want you at my side — always."
Her breath caught, her eyes shining as she looked up at him. For a heartbeat, his eyes shimmered, galaxies swirling to life — the Eyes of the Universe, revealed only for her. She gasped softly, a smile blooming brighter than the morning sun.
He reached down and tapped her nose lightly, his own smile warm and playful. "Let's go."
She laughed again, clutching his arm tighter as they moved forward together. Side by side, they walked on toward the training grounds — where Haotian would test not only the strength of his newly-formed Nascent Realm, but also the power of the Fenlong Spear, forged to carry his will.
And though the sect still whispered behind them, none dared step between the two.
When the Sect Master dismissed the assembly, Haotian rose and bowed. The elders parted as he stepped down from the pavilion, Lianhua quietly falling into place at his side. Though her cheeks were still pink, her hand found his, and he did not hesitate to lace his fingers with hers.
Outside, the courtyard was thick with disciples and guards. Whispers rippled instantly through the crowd as they appeared — reverence mixed with admiration, envy, and relentless curiosity. Respect lingered after the Sect Master's acknowledgment, but teasing swelled louder than ever.
"Haotian! A grown man now!""Lianhua, look at that glow — how radiant!""Senior Brother, do you even plan to show mercy to the rest of us single men?"
The laughter rolled, a playful storm that left Lianhua blushing fiercely. And then, in the middle of it all, one overeager male disciple blurted out:
"Maybe the vortex happened when the two of you were—"
He didn't finish. Another hand shot out, clamping over his mouth with desperate speed. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence. Dozens of eyes turned toward Haotian and Lianhua.
Lianhua's face ignited crimson, her whole body trembling with embarrassment. She looked as though she might melt into the stone beneath her feet.
Then the silence broke — not with male laughter, but with the eruption of the female disciples.
"It's true, isn't it!""Sister Lianhua, you must tell us everything!""Come, come — this is for sisterhood, not secrecy!"
They surged forward, giggling and chattering, hands reaching for her arms as they tried once more to sweep her away into their fold.
That was when Haotian moved.
His aura burst outward in a sharp, thunderous wave. The flagstones cracked underfoot as golden light flared around him, his glare freezing the entire courtyard. The female disciples stopped mid-step, their smiles faltering. Even the men who had been snickering shrank back instantly.
The teasing died. The courtyard fell into complete silence.
Lianhua blinked, stunned, then let out a soft laugh despite her burning cheeks. She leaned in close, resting her head against his shoulder, her voice low and teasing. "You really didn't want them to take me away again, did you?"
Haotian's eyes softened immediately. His hand squeezed hers with quiet conviction. "Of course. You are the one I love. I want you beside me — always."
Her heart skipped, her eyes shining as she looked up at him. For the briefest moment, his pupils swirled with galaxies — the Eyes of the Universe shimmering just for her. She gasped softly, her smile blooming bright through her blush.
He tapped her nose lightly, his lips curving into a playful smile. "Let's go."
Together, they continued toward the training grounds. And though whispers still chased them, none dared step between them again.
The training grounds lay open beneath the morning sun, wide stone courts lined with banners of the Burning Sun Sect. It was meant to be a place of discipline and rigor — but today, it became a hidden gallery. Disciples slipped into the shadow of the colonnades, elders stood quietly at the far ends, and even guards who should have been on patrol lingered nearby. All eyes followed Haotian and Lianhua as they entered together.
In his hand, Haotian carried the Fenlong Spear. The weapon thrummed faintly, as though eager to taste the air. He stepped to the center of the field and drew a long breath. Without a word, he lowered into stance, body poised like a coiled dragon, eyes narrowing.
Then he moved.
The spear shot forward in a blur — crack! — the tip striking the stone floor and rebounding so fast the sound echoed like thunder. Again, and again, thrusts lanced out, each one faster than the last, until the air itself screamed in protest. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending dust whirling across the grounds.
Elders watching stiffened. Their brows knit in surprise.
"So fast…" one muttered."Not even lightning qi… he's not using wind essence either," whispered another."Without augmentation… and yet at this speed, none of us could defend in time."
The realization settled like lead: even stripped of his elemental enhancements, Haotian's mastery of the Sonic Fang Spear Art was devastating. His movements were simple — thrust, withdraw, twist, repeat — but the precision, the angles, and above all the speed left no openings.
Stone cracked beneath his feet as he advanced, the spear blurring until only afterimages remained. To the untrained eye, it was one strike; to the elders, it was a storm of layered thrusts. Each one carried the faint hum of vibration, enough to drill into steel, enough to tear apart flesh and spirit alike.
Haotian did not stop. Sweat trickled down his jaw, but his eyes gleamed with focus. He shifted seamlessly into sweeping arcs, the spear tracing crescent lines that cut invisible patterns in the air. Dust lifted, leaves shredded, even the banners along the court edges fluttered as though caught in a gale.
At last, he stopped. The spear lowered, its haft humming faintly, and the grounds were silent — save for the pounding of countless hidden hearts.
Lianhua approached quietly from the sidelines, carrying a cup of water. She walked with the poise of one used to prying eyes, though her cheeks flushed under the stares of the crowd.
"You should drink," she said softly, offering the cup.
Haotian accepted with a smile, the sweat on his brow glinting in the sun. "Thank you." He raised it in a small gesture of gratitude before drinking deeply, then handed it back with the same calm poise that unsettled the elders more than any strike had.
"Shouldn't you rest now?" Lianhua asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
He chuckled faintly, lifting the spear so its tip rested against his shoulder. "Yes, I'll take a break. I need time to think. There are new ideas for this spear art forming in my head… things I'll need to test, refine."
His golden eyes flickered — thoughtful, calculating, already seeing paths that others could not.
And all around them, the elders and disciples who had gathered in secret withdrew in silence. None could deny it — Haotian's spear was not merely a weapon. In his hands, it was inevitability.
After the training grounds had emptied, Haotian returned to his quarters with Lianhua beside him. The Fenlong Spear rested against the wall, faintly humming, as though it too was eager for what came next. Lianhua prepared tea in silence, her movements graceful but her eyes never straying far from him. She could tell he was deep in thought — the kind of stillness that only came when his mind entered the golden halls of his inner world library.
Haotian sat cross-legged upon the mat. Within his dantian, the golden shelves of his library stretched endlessly, every scroll and manual from the Azure Sky Sect, every stolen glance at techniques, every engraving he had memorized. The knowledge waited, gleaming, ready for him to shape.
He summoned the scroll of the Sonic Fang Spear, and then his Nine Elements flared around it, golden script spiraling into visions. He began to theorize.
A thrust… no, nine thrusts. Not sequential, but simultaneous.
He pictured the Fenlong Spear stabbing forward once — yet in that instant, the thrust would fracture into nine elemental projections, each spear of energy flying at the same target. They could all carry the same element, multiplying its destructive force. Or each could hold a different one — fire to burn, ice to freeze, lightning to stun, earth to rupture, wind to shred, light to blind, darkness to corrode, metal to pierce, water to drown.
An enemy could block one… but not nine from different angles. The merge would be inevitable. Unblockable.
Lianhua sipped her tea quietly, her eyes watching the flicker of concentration across his face. She could almost see the sparks of his mind turning, the way his fingers traced in the air as though drawing invisible diagrams.
He shifted. Another scroll appeared — this one representing a defensive variant. Four elemental spears, anchored, rotating around me in orbit… a wall that defends against any angle.
He saw them in his mind, circling him like guardian stars, intercepting incoming attacks. But as the thought grew, his brow furrowed. If they are bound for defense… what if they could also attack?
The image changed. The four spears broke orbit in sudden bursts, lancing outward at command. Deception. Surprise. An enemy confident in his defense would never expect the shield to become the sword.
Lianhua leaned forward slightly, her cup resting forgotten in her lap. She did not understand every detail, but she felt his intensity, the restless brilliance that made him both dangerous and awe-inspiring.
Haotian's vision expanded. He pulled not just from Sonic Fang but from every spear art he had ever studied in the golden library. He saw thrusts that cut like lightning, sweeps that carried the weight of oceans, spins that whirled like typhoons, and drills that bored like molten earth. One by one, he dissected them, absorbing, refining, discarding.
Not fragments. Not separate techniques.
An entire system. A doctrine. A dance of spear and man that could command the battlefield itself.
His heart beat faster. Images swirled in his mind — himself standing amidst a hundred enemies, the Fenlong Spear in hand, weaving destruction and defense in seamless flow. A single man dancing as though born to it, spear arcs carving fate itself.
One hour passed. To Haotian, it was an instant.
He opened his eyes, the glow of his inner world fading. Slowly, he rose, reaching for the Fenlong Spear.
Lianhua had not moved. She had simply sat, chin resting on her hands, watching him with quiet adoration. When he stood, she smiled faintly, her eyes shining.
"You thought of something, didn't you?" she asked softly.
Haotian's lips curved. "Not something. Many things. It's time to test them."
He stepped onto the practice floor, spear in hand. The air itself seemed to tense, waiting.
And with Lianhua as his silent witness, he began to move.
The practice field lay silent, the midday sun casting sharp shadows across its stone floor. Haotian stood at its center, the Fenlong Spear balanced lightly in his grip. Lianhua waited near the pavilion steps, her hands clasped before her as she watched with steady faith. Unbeknownst to Haotian, several elders had followed in secret, cloaking their presence at the edge of the training grounds. They wanted to see what had truly shaken the heavens the night before.
Haotian inhaled deeply, his qi flowing steady as rivers through his meridians. The theories he had just shaped in the golden library of his inner world now needed to be tested. He raised the Fenlong Spear. Its tip glimmered faintly with sparks of lightning.
"First form… Ninefold Thrust."
He thrust forward.
The single motion fractured. A blinding flash lanced through the air as the strike split into nine spears of lightning, each projection tearing across the field in perfect synchronization. The ground split apart in multiple jagged lines, arcs of electricity racing outward. The sheer speed of the technique left afterimages burning in the watchers' eyes.
The elders stiffened. One of them drew in a sharp breath, his knuckles whitening. If that strike had aimed at me… even foreseeing it, I would have no time to react.
Haotian did not stop. His spear tip lowered, then rose again. The elements within his dantian surged.
"Now… all nine."
The next thrust sent a shockwave through the field. Instead of nine lightning spears, nine different elemental spears erupted at once — flame, water, earth, wind, lightning, metal, wood, ice, and light, all spiraling from the core strike. They converged upon the target dummy in front of him, colliding with such force that the impact detonated in an ear-splitting BOOM!
The field erupted into chaos. Fire roared outward, ice crystals exploded into the air, arcs of lightning clawed across the ground, while water vapor steamed upward in a scalding cloud. Wind howled as stone fragments tore free, flung like shrapnel. The explosion birthed a concussive wave that surged outward, slamming into the pavilions and forcing the hidden elders back on their heels. Their robes snapped violently in the gust, eyes wide with shock and dawning fear.
When the smoke cleared, the target dummy was gone. In its place, a crater smoldered, the stone cracked in web-like fractures stretching several meters.
Haotian stood calmly amidst the devastation, lowering his spear. A faint smile touched his lips — not of pride, but of satisfaction. The theory holds.
Yet hidden within the technique lay a far more insidious truth.
The Ninefold Thrust was not only destructive upon impact. Each elemental spear carried its essence past the surface, embedding itself into the target's meridians. Fire would burn the blood channels, ice would freeze their flow, lightning would overload the nerves, earth would weigh and clog their veins. Element by element, they would spread until they reached the dantian. And once there — it would shatter.
This was not a technique meant to defeat. It was meant to permanently remove a threat. A strike that could cripple a cultivator's future, forever robbing them of strength.
And yet, Haotian's expression was measured. He understood its cruelty — and its mercy.
"If needed," he murmured to himself, "I can destroy their cultivation. But if I choose, I will leave them alive. To live quietly, without power… without the chance to harm again."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances. For the first time, true fear glimmered in their eyes. A technique like this was not merely power. It was judgment.
Haotian looked toward Lianhua. She stood still, her face pale with awe, but her eyes unwavering as they met his. She carried no fear — only trust.
Haotian smiled faintly, lowering the Fenlong Spear to his side. He had only begun to explore the path of the Ninefold Spear.
And already, the battlefield itself seemed his to command.
The air still quivered with the echoes of the Ninefold Thrust. Dust drifted down in golden rays of sunlight, settling across the cracked stones of the training field. Elders lingered in stunned silence at the edge, while disciples who had secretly followed kept their breaths shallow, unwilling to break the stillness after what they had witnessed.
Haotian remained calm at the center, the Fenlong Spear resting in his palm. His eyes narrowed in focus. The Ninefold Thrust was only the beginning — the offensive heart of the art. But on the battlefield, defense was just as important as destruction. He inhaled deeply, his qi surging.
"Second form…" his voice cut through the quiet, "…Rotating Spears."
His spear slammed into the ground with a sharp clang! Sparks burst upward, and elemental qi split outward from him in four directions. The stone beneath his feet glowed, etched with temporary runic lines as though the ground itself was obeying his command.
From those lines, four spears of elemental energy manifested — fire, lightning, wind, and earth — each one shimmering and solid, orbiting his body at equal distance. They moved slowly at first, circling him like guardian stars. The air pulsed faintly with their resonance, a rhythm in perfect synchronization with his heartbeat.
One elder leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. A defense formation… self-sustaining, anchored directly to him?
The four spears began to rotate faster. Whoosh… whoosh… whoosh. The air howled as the elemental constructs spun into a seamless barrier. Wind rippled outward. Sparks trailed in a fiery ring. Dust and stone fragments hurled away as if repelled by invisible blades.
Haotian twirled the Fenlong Spear in his grip and strode forward. The four orbiting spears followed, their rotations constant, guarding him at every angle. He thrust the Fenlong Spear once, testing the movement — and in the same instant, one of the orbiting spears shot forward in tandem.
The dummy ten meters away exploded into shards before anyone could blink.
The other three spears continued to circle him, unaffected, ready to defend.
Gasps rippled through the hidden crowd.
"He used a defensive construct… as an offensive strike?""That shouldn't be possible. Orbiting weapons collapse once released…""No, look — they re-anchored! He's commanding them directly!"
Haotian shifted again. Another thrust — this time, two spears broke orbit, lancing outward from unexpected angles, striking in perfect coordination with his main attack. The result was overwhelming: a feint became a pincer, a single thrust multiplied into simultaneous strikes from impossible directions. The element of surprise was absolute.
He paused, the last two orbiting spears still circling him. His eyes gleamed. Defense and offense. Deception and inevitability. Every angle mine to command.
The remaining spears snapped forward at his will, smashing into another target. All four reformed instantly, orbiting him once more, until he released them with a final wave. They dissipated into smoke and sparks, leaving silence in their wake.
The elders stared, unsettled. One muttered under his breath: "He's no longer studying spear arts… he's inventing them."
Haotian stood at the center, his breath steady, his stance unshaken. He turned slightly — and there was Lianhua, waiting at the sidelines with both hands clasped at her chest. Her lips parted in awe, her cheeks flushed not from embarrassment this time, but from pride.
Meeting her eyes, Haotian gave the smallest of nods. The Fenlong Spear hummed faintly in approval, as though it too recognized the birth of something new.
The Ninefold Spear Doctrine was no longer theory. It was becoming reality.
The air on the training grounds had not yet settled from the display of the Rotating Spears. Dust still hovered in the light, the cracked stone floor smoking faintly where Haotian's last strikes had landed. At the far edge, the hidden elders exchanged worried glances — some fearful, some awed. None dared step forward, unwilling to disrupt what was unfolding.
At the center of it all stood Haotian, the Fenlong Spear gleaming faintly in his grip. His breath was even, his expression calm, but his eyes burned with focus. He had tested the first form, the Ninefold Thrust, and the second, the Rotating Spears. Now it was time to unite them.
He stepped forward, his aura flowing outward in golden waves. The runic lines sparked again across the ground as four elemental spears spun into orbit around him — fire, lightning, wind, and earth. They circled at high speed, a defensive wall whistling with energy. The onlookers flinched at the sound alone, the air bending beneath the rotating weapons.
Haotian's grip tightened. "Fusion test."
He thrust the Fenlong Spear forward.
The single strike fractured into nine elemental projections, the full force of the Ninefold Thrust. They surged across the field in a blazing arc, converging on a target dummy in perfect synchronization. At the very same instant, two of the orbiting spears broke formation and struck from the flanks, converging on the same point as the nine.
BOOM!
The explosion was thunderous, a shockwave splitting outward in all directions. The combined power of offense and defense, merged, was overwhelming — like a dragon's roar given form. The elders stumbled back, their protective barriers flaring instinctively to hold against the expanding wave. Dust and debris flew in every direction, the very ground splitting under the impact.
But Haotian was not finished.
The remaining two orbiting spears shifted instantly back into defense, intercepting stone fragments before they could reach him. His stance flowed seamlessly into another strike, the Fenlong Spear lashing out again. This time, three orbiting spears joined the thrust in perfect harmony, while the fourth remained anchored to block an incoming strike that didn't even exist. It was practice, but to any onlooker, it was battle made art.
Thrust. Orbit. Break. Return. The rhythm was flawless.
Haotian moved as though in a dance, each step flowing into the next, his spear weaving arcs of gold and silver. The orbiting spears spun like stars caught in a constellation, striking and defending in perfect unison. Offense became defense, defense became offense. Each action disguised another, feints collapsing into real strikes, shields morphing into blades.
The elders watching could not keep up. One whispered hoarsely, "This is no longer a spear art… this is a battlefield doctrine."
Another swallowed hard. "Against this… a hundred men would be nothing."
Haotian finished with a final thrust, nine projections detonating across the training ground, while all four orbiting spears shot outward in unison, striking like divine thunderbolts. The blast tore a crater through the stone, the shockwave hurling dust high into the air before silence fell once more.
He lowered the Fenlong Spear, sweat beading across his brow, but his posture steady. His lips curved faintly, satisfied. The fusion worked.
Behind him, Lianhua rose from her seat. She had not once looked away, her hands clasped tightly against her chest, her expression caught between awe and pride. Slowly, she walked forward, her voice soft but unshaken.
"You… really are dancing."
Haotian turned his head toward her, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "A dance that only just began. But one day… it will be perfect."
The Fenlong Spear thrummed as if agreeing, its hum resonating with the rhythm of his words.
The Spear Dance of Heaven Sundering had been born.