Snow drifted gently as silence reclaimed the valley. Yin Shuyue knelt in the crimson frost, her arms wrapped tight around Haotian's unconscious body. Her tears froze along her lashes, but her gaze never left his pale face. All around, disciples whispered, elders stood in awe, and the colossal corpse of the Snow Beast Ape loomed like a mountain of ice and blood.
Relief had barely begun to settle when a cold laugh cut through the stillness.
From the Cold River Sect's ranks, their grand elder straightened, blood still staining his lips from his earlier defeat, yet his eyes gleamed with cruel resolve. "So this is the great savior?" he sneered. "A boy who collapses after one battle. If he rises again, he will eclipse us all. Better his light is snuffed out here and now."
Gasps rippled across the valley. Some elders stiffened, others looked away. A few disciples shouted in protest, but the Cold River Sect's banners snapped as their cultivators surged forward.
"Stop!" Elder Bai roared, stumbling into their path, blood dripping from his sleeve. "He carried us all! You would repay his sacrifice with betrayal?"
The Cold River elder sneered, palm lifting. "Old man, step aside before I break you too."
The strike came like thunder. A blast of icy qi ripped through the snow, aimed directly for Haotian's unconscious form.
"NO!"
Moon Lotus disciples leapt forward as one, bodies colliding with the attack, their weapons raised, their formation tight though battered. The qi shredded their robes, sent them sprawling in blood, but they stood again, trembling and unyielding.
"This is Moon Lotus's disciple!" one cried, his voice cracking but firm."You will not touch him!" shouted another.
The Cold River elder snarled, his aura pressing down like glaciers. His second strike surged, greater than the first—until Elder Bai's staff cracked against the ice, weaving a wall of frost and flame that barely blunted the blow. He coughed blood, knees buckling.
"You'll have to kill me first," Bai spat.
"Gladly," the elder hissed, stepping forward with killing intent burning in his eyes. Another figure rose beside him, sword gleaming cold in the moonlight. Two Soul Transformation elders, striding together toward the boy who lay unmoving in Shuyue's arms.
Shuyue's breath hitched. Her heart screamed louder than thought. She turned, throwing her body over Haotian's without hesitation.
The first elder's palm struck.
The blow slammed into her back, qi exploding, and she screamed as blood burst from her lips. She flew forward from the force, but in the moment before she was hurled away, she twisted—twisting so Haotian's body slipped safely from her arms to the side, landing in the snow.
Shuyue tumbled, her spear clattering far from reach, crimson staining the frost where she fell.
"Shuyue!" voices screamed. But there was no time.
The second elder's sword descended. Its blade gleamed white, carrying the weight of finality. It fell toward Haotian's still form—
—until it stopped.
Gasps tore from every throat. The sword trembled in midair. Blood dripped from the tip, trailing down in a crimson line.
A hand had caught it.
Haotian's hand.
His fingers clenched around the blade itself, blood running freely down his palm. And slowly, inexorably, his eyes opened.
Not golden. Not human.
The Eyes of the Universe revealed themselves—pupils swirling with stars, galaxies spinning in their depths, a gaze that pierced qi, flesh, and soul alike.
"Impossible…" the elder whispered, frozen in place, terror seizing his limbs.
A pulse shook the valley.
Haotian's heart core ignited with a thunderous beat, resonating with his dantian core, light blazing across his veins like rivers of molten gold. Chi burst from his body, erupting outward in a shockwave that blasted snow into the sky.
His grip twisted.
The sword snapped like dry wood.
Before the elder could react, Haotian's body coiled, and his leg shot upward. His foot crashed into the elder's chest with a sound like thunder. The man's back erupted in blood as he was hurled through the air, spewing crimson into the night. He hit the ice with a crash, rolling lifeless across the battlefield.
The valley froze.
Disciples and elders alike stared, mouths agape, weapons lowering.
Haotian flipped, landing lightly on his feet. His aura surged—no longer flickering embers, but a rising storm.
It climbed.
Nascent Realm.
Late Nascent.
Soul Transformation.
Peak Soul Transformation.
Dao Comprehension—Initial Stage.
Mid Stage.
High Stage.
Peak Dao Comprehension Realm.
The sky itself shuddered under the pressure. Snow was torn upward into a cyclone, banners ripped from their poles, disciples forced to their knees beneath the weight of his qi. Haotian's hair whipped wildly in the gale, his torn robes snapping like a war banner.
"All of you from Cold River Sect…" His voice was calm, cold as the abyss, yet carried across the valley like thunder. "Your attempts on my life end here."
He extended his right hand.
Fenglong Spear trembled violently where it was planted, then shot through the air like a streak of light, slapping into his palm. He spun it once overhead, the sound a hurricane tearing through the valley, then slammed the butt into the ground.
The snow blasted outward in a shockwave, clearing the field in a ring that left bare earth revealed around him.
The elders of Cold River faltered, but three still stepped forward, their pride refusing to yield.
Haotian narrowed his eyes. He slammed the spear down a second time.
Crack!Crack!Crack!
Three sharp sounds echoed. Blood sprayed into the air.
The three elders collapsed as one, their eyes wide in disbelief, holes punched cleanly through their chests. Not a single onlooker had seen Haotian move.
Silence crushed the valley.
Every disciple, every elder, every survivor stared in horror and awe at the boy who had been unconscious in the snow moments before—now risen, eyes like stars, his aura towering above them all.
The Sect Master of Cold River, face pale as death, trembled as he watched three of his strongest elders fall lifeless into the snow.
No one breathed. No one spoke.
For in that moment, they all understood—
This was not merely a youth.
This was the will of heaven itself, walking in mortal flesh.
The snow was still settling when three Cold River elders dropped dead in the frost, their chests punctured by invisible thrusts. The valley was silent in shock—until rage split the air.
"No! Kill him! Kill the boy!" cried another elder, eyes bloodshot with fury.
The remaining Cold River elders surged forward in a desperate charge, their qi howling like blades of ice.
"STOP!" their sect master roared, his voice ragged with fear. But his command came too late.
Crack!Crack!Crack!
The sounds of stabbing rang again, sharp and merciless. Bodies jerked midstride, blood spraying from fresh holes in their chests. One by one the elders collapsed into the snow, lifeless eyes staring skyward. Only one man remained untouched: Elder Bai, standing frozen in place, his face pale with grief.
All around, disciples and sect masters of the other sects backed away, their expressions torn between awe and terror. None dared step forward. None dared speak.
Haotian turned slowly. His spear pointed to the Cold River Sect Master.
"Are you next?"
The man staggered back, shaking his head, but before words could leave his mouth—
Stab!
He screamed as Fenglong's invisible thrust pierced his right leg, blood spraying into the snow.
"That was for the first attempt on my life," Haotian said, his voice cold as the winter sky.
Stab!
The man howled again, collapsing onto his knees as his left leg was pierced.
"That was for the second."
He tried to crawl back, clawing at the ice, but a third thrust came.
Stab!
His left arm was punctured clean through. His sword clattered uselessly from his grip.
"That was for this attempt."
The Cold River Sect Master writhed, clutching his ruined limbs, his screams muffled by the snow.
But Haotian did not stop. His gaze shifted. He saw the wounded Moon Lotus disciples huddled together, blood staining their white robes. And then his eyes found Yin Shuyue.
She was sitting upright now, coughing blood, her veil slipped from her face. Her pale lips trembled as another disciple tried to support her. Despite her pain, her gaze was locked only on him.
Haotian's aura spiked. He turned back.
Stab!
The Sect Master shrieked, his right arm now torn through.
"That was for hurting Moon Lotus… and for hurting her."
Gasps rippled across the battlefield. Disciples clutched their mouths. Elders stared in mute disbelief.
Then movement stirred—the frail frame of Elder Bai stumbling forward, falling to his knees between Haotian and the Sect Master. His hands pressed into the snow, his old body bowing low.
"Enough!" Bai rasped, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Haotian… stop."
In a blur, Haotian was there. Fenglong's tip rested against Elder Bai's chest, his aura a storm swirling around them, his star-filled eyes narrowing. The weight of heaven itself pressed down, threatening to tear the elder apart.
For a heartbeat, the valley thought they would see Bai die.
But then—like an afterimage—Haotian's form blurred horizontally. The vision faded. He was still standing at his original place, spear lowered, his golden hair wild in the snowstorm.
"Elder Bai," he said, voice heavy with ice, "are you pleading for me to spare this man? Even after he unleashed his sect upon me? Even after he never once stopped them?"
Bai's lips trembled. He bowed deeper, saying nothing.
Haotian's eyes closed. His breath steamed in the air. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less sharp.
"I will not kill him. Not for his sake. For yours. You took me in when no one else would. You taught me the path of alchemy. You showed me care. I will honor that debt. But hear me now—should Cold River make another move against me…" His eyes opened, blazing with light. "…I will show no mercy."
Elder Bai pressed his forehead into the snow. "Thank you… thank you, child."
The storm of Haotian's aura subsided. He drew back Fenglong, spun it once, then lowered the weapon until its butt struck the ground. With a motion sharp yet calm, he slung it behind him, the shaft resting across his back for easy carrying.
He turned. Yin Shuyue still knelt in the snow, coughing softly, her veil gone, her face pale but luminous in the moonlight. Blood stained her lips. Another Moon Lotus disciple tried to help her, but she waved them weakly aside.
Haotian strode to her and knelt. His voice softened for the first time that night.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For protecting me."
Her eyes shimmered with tears. "You'd… have done the same."
He pulled a jade bottle from his sleeve, pressing a pill to her lips. "Triple Recovery Pill. Swallow."
She obeyed without question. He then took her wrist, his fingers warm against her chilled skin, and sent a thread of internal energy into her meridians. His brow furrowed.
"Nothing grave," he murmured. "But a lingering qi remains, blocking your channels." His aura surged once, burning through the obstruction. She gasped softly as relief washed over her, her breath flowing easier for the first time since the strike.
"Better," he said, rising to his feet. His eyes swept the field. "We should return."
The disciples of Moon Lotus gathered quickly, nodding in agreement. They were exhausted, but their spines straightened with pride: they had suffered no deaths.
Then, to the shock of all watching, Haotian sheathed Fenglong into his spatial ring with a flicker of light. He bent, slipped an arm beneath Shuyue, and lifted her easily into a princess carry.
She froze, her pale cheeks flushing as she instinctively looped her arms around his neck. She was so light it seemed as though the snow itself weighed more. Haotian's expression remained calm, but his steps were steady, protective.
Gasps rippled through the Moon Lotus disciples—especially the female ones, their eyes flashing with jealousy.
Shuyue pressed closer, too weak to resist, her heart pounding like a trapped bird.
"Let's go," Haotian said, his voice carrying across the valley like a final command. He turned his gaze briefly to the other sects—elders and disciples alike cowering in the snow. "See that there is no foul play with the spoils of this battle. Every beast, every core, every resource is to be tallied fairly. Do not test me again."
His aura flared once more, and every sect elder paled, cupping their fists and bowing deeply. "Of course… we will ensure fairness, Senior Haotian!"
And then, with a blur of motion, he was gone.
The snow barely stirred as he vanished with Shuyue in his arms. The other Moon Lotus disciples rushed after, the night wind chasing their heels.
Within moments, he was back in Moon Lotus quarters, Shuyue laid gently upon a bed of silken blankets.
"Rest," he told her, his voice firm but quiet.
She smiled faintly, the corners of her lips trembling as her veil lay forgotten beside her. "Thank you… Haotian." Her heart fluttered like falling petals, even as exhaustion claimed her.
Haotian turned away, his golden eyes cold once more. The storm was over—but the shadow of Cold River's treachery had only just begun.
The alchemy lab was cold and silent, lit only by the pale gleam of moonlight seeping through frosted windows. Haotian sat heavily at the workbench, Fenglong Spear resting against the wall. His breath came ragged, his body weary, yet his eyes still burned with the storm of battle.
He closed them once more. The Eyes of the Universe opened within, galaxies spinning, stars bleeding across endless void. His heart core still pulsed from the earlier clash, resonating faintly with his dantian.
Then—
The resonance broke.
Pain struck like fire. His meridians screamed as chi recoiled violently, tearing back into his heart core. His chest seized, his vision blurred, and sweat poured down his face in sheets.
"—ghhh!"
He staggered, clutching his robes, his knees striking the stone floor. The agony was worse than opening dormant meridians, worse than any wound the beast tide had dealt him. This was his own body devouring itself.
His trembling hands fumbled at his belt, pulling free two jade bottles. Pills spilled across the floor, scattering like pearls. With desperation, he seized a handful — Triple Recovery Pills, Meridian Nursing Pills — and shoved them into his mouth, forcing them down dry.
For a heartbeat, light flickered faintly in his chest.
Then his body gave way. He collapsed sideways onto the cold floor, motionless.
Time passed in silence.
The door creaked open. A male servant stepped inside, a basket of spirit herbs in his arms. His breath caught in his throat, the basket crashing from his hands as he rushed forward.
"Young Master Haotian!"
He shook his shoulder. No response. Panic seized him. His voice rose, cracking as it echoed through the halls:"Help! Help! Someone!"
At first, there was only silence. But soon hurried footsteps thundered through the corridors. Moon Lotus disciples rushed in, their white robes stained with battle.
They froze at the sight of him lying pale and unmoving on the floor.
"Senior Brother!" one cried, dropping to his knees."He's unconscious again!" another shouted."His pulse—check his pulse!"
Hands hovered, afraid to press too hard, as though even their touch might break him. Their faces blanched with fear.
This was the youth who had slain the Snow Beast Ape. The one who had stood when no one else could. The savior of their sect—now lying broken before them.
The servant's voice trembled as he called out again. "Bring healers! Quickly!"
Disciples scattered, robes whipping as they sprinted into the night. Others remained crouched at Haotian's side, whispering prayers through trembling lips.
And in the cold silence of the alchemy lab, their savior lay unconscious once more, his mysteries deepening, his burden unseen.
Haotian's eyelids fluttered. The world returned slowly, heavy with silence.
Above him stretched the familiar carved beams of his chamber ceiling. For a moment he lay still, disoriented, before slowly pulling himself upright. His body writhed in protest, pain flashing through his veins. Sweat dampened his forehead as he pressed his palm to his chest.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
He exhaled, then folded his legs beneath him into a lotus position. His eyes closed, and his consciousness sank inward.
His internal meridians flowed into view, glowing lines of light within him. His heart core pulsed faintly, his dantian dim but stable. To his surprise—there was no tear, no rupture. His meridians were intact, though strained, like overdrawn strings of a zither.
Relief washed over him. No damage. The pills… they must have stabilized me. If not for the Meridian Nursing Pills and Triple Recovery Pills, I might have shattered myself beyond repair.
His lips curled in a faint wry smile. Still… I must refrain from using chi for a time.
He opened his eyes, pushed himself to stand—and nearly collapsed. His legs trembled violently. Each step was unsteady, his hand gripping the bedframe, then the table, then the wall as he tried to steady himself.
But his strength was gone. His body buckled.
With a harsh thud, he slipped, falling hard to the floor. The sound echoed painfully in the chamber.
The door creaked open in alarm.
A head poked in—one of the female disciples on duty. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw him struggling on the ground.
"Oh my god—! Someone help, he collapsed again!" she shouted, her voice carrying down the corridor.
Haotian coughed, a wry smile breaking through the pain. "It seems… I've been collapsing far too often… for someone they call a hero."
The words only deepened the disciples' panic. Feet thundered on the wooden floor. Soon, a group of Moon Lotus disciples rushed in, white robes swirling as they hurried to lift him.
"Careful, don't strain him!""Back to the bed—quickly!"
They eased him upright and onto the bedding again, but Haotian raised a trembling hand. "Not lying down… let me sit."
The disciples exchanged nervous glances, but obeyed, adjusting pillows behind him until he sat propped upright. Their eyes, filled with concern, lingered on him. Yet beneath the worry, relief softened their expressions—he had woken at last.
Haotian exhaled. "How long… was I asleep?"
One disciple stepped forward hesitantly. "Nine days, Senior Brother."
His brows lifted slightly. Nine days… He drew another breath. "And the situation with the other sects? Have they… kept to their word?"
The disciples shifted uneasily but answered as best they knew. "The sect masters sent reports. The beast corpses were tallied and divided under oath. None have dared to touch what is promised to Moon Lotus. At least… not openly."
Haotian's gaze darkened slightly, but he nodded. "Good."
Before more could be said, the chamber door opened once more.
Moon Lotus Sect Master Yin Xue entered, her bearing graceful yet firm, robes flowing like falling snow. Beside her came Ziyue, calm and watchful as ever, and finally, Shuyue, pale but composed, her steps careful.
The disciples immediately bowed and parted to the sides, their relief now mingled with formality.
The room hushed, all attention falling upon the three figures who entered.
And on Haotian—sitting upright despite the pain, meeting their gazes with quiet resolve.