The courtyard slowly calmed after the storm. The disciples dispersed to meditate on what they had just witnessed, while the elders moved to stabilize the shaken qi of the sect grounds. The four Saint Dragons remained in the courtyard to recover.
Yangshen was the last to rise, wiping the final trickle of blood from his mouth. Jinhai had already seated himself cross-legged in meditation, his eyes closed, replaying every exchange of the battle.
But Yuying and Meiyun had other plans.
They stepped forward, their eyes glinting as they looked to Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue.
"You three. Come with us."
Yinxue blinked. "For what reason—"
"Family matters," Meiyun interrupted smoothly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Female family members only," Yuying added with a gentle but unyielding tone.
The three women flushed, their eyes darting to Haotian, but before they could protest, Yuying and Meiyun each took hold of their wrists and simply dragged them away.
Shuyue squeaked in embarrassment, Ziyue's ears turned scarlet, and even Yinxue's frosty composure cracked with a blush. Their voices trailed faintly across the courtyard.
"Wait—this is too sudden!"
"Ancestor, please—!"
"Haotian—!"
Haotian could only blink after them, rubbing his forehead. "…That won't end quietly."
Yangshen laughed, his voice booming, though still rough from battle. "Better them than you. Come, boy. Show me this sect of yours."
Haotian gave a faint smirk. "You sure you're up for walking?"
Yangshen snorted. "Hah! Don't mock me. I can walk just fine."
So the two set off.
Haotian led him through the sect's core halls. He showed the disciples' training grounds where ice and sword daos intermingled like storms in bloom. He brought him to the alchemy hall, where disciples still whispered about the millions of pills Haotian had refined in the past. Yangshen nodded faintly, impressed despite himself.
Then came the bathhouse. Yangshen's eyebrow rose at the sheer size and formation density, though he made no comment. Haotian coughed into his fist, ushering him past quickly.
Finally, they came to the heart of the sect's defenses: the Cries of the Phoenixes Killing Array.
The formation shimmered faintly, phoenix motifs woven through the very earth, their cries resonating like a hidden choir. Even dormant, its aura carried a sharpness that made Yangshen's eyes narrow.
Haotian stood before it, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Yangshen's gaze sharpened. "Boy. Don't even try it."
Haotian blinked innocently. "…Try what?"
Yangshen's snort was heavy, his eyes narrowing further. "Your killing intent is spilling out. You brought me here to 'show' me this array, but I can smell it on you. You're thinking of activating it. Thinking of making me 'eat dirt,' aren't you?"
The air hung heavy between them.
Haotian didn't refute. His golden eyes simply met Yangshen's, the faintest smile curling his lips.
Yangshen chuckled, shaking his head. "Hah! To think you'd even dare to try killing your own ancestor. You're insane, boy."
But Haotian's silence spoke louder than words.
For in his heart, he had already decided — ancestor or not, one day Yangshen would bow his head to him.
The three sisters were dragged into a secluded courtyard chamber, its walls etched with dragon runes that shimmered faintly, ensuring privacy.
Yuying and Meiyun stood across from them, arms folded, smirks on their lips.
"So," Yuying said smoothly, "you three are Haotian's little companions, are you?"
Yinxue stiffened immediately, her frosty aura flaring. "We are not—"
"Bingo," Meiyun interrupted with a grin.
Ziyue's face reddened, her fingers twitching near her sword hilt. "You're mocking us."
"Yes," Yuying said pleasantly. "And it's very fun."
Shuyue covered her face, crimson to her ears. "Please, Ancestors, enough…"
But there was no escape. The teasing continued like a storm.
"How bold of you, Sect Master Yinxue, to declare your feelings in front of the whole sect.""And you, Ziyue — cold on the battlefield, but blush like a maiden the moment his name is spoken.""And you, little Shuyue — straddling him in front of your sisters? Really now."
The three women wanted to melt into the floor. Yinxue clenched her teeth, Ziyue's sword aura trembled faintly, and Shuyue's muffled whimper came from behind her hands.
Finally, Yuying chuckled and waved her hand. "Enough. Let's speak seriously."
The laughter faded, the atmosphere sharpening.
"Do you know the history of Lianhua and Haotian?" Meiyun asked softly.
The three shook their heads.
"They grew up together," Yuying said, her gaze distant. "Lianhua is six years older. From the time he was a child, Haotian was a… miracle, and a terror. He was a boy who could not be contained. Formations, wards, tracing talismans — all useless. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. Nothing could bind him."
"Nothing," Meiyun repeated firmly, "except her. Lianhua was his anchor. No matter where he ran, no matter what mischief he vanished into, he always returned to her. She alone could bring him back."
The sisters listened silently, the weight of the words pressing into their chests.
"You may not realize it yet," Yuying continued, "but Lianhua is the core of his heart. His love for her has been established since before he could even understand what love was. You may have his affection, his companionship, even his passion. But she… she is the gate to his heart."
Yinxue's breath caught. Ziyue lowered her gaze. Shuyue bit her lip.
They understood now.
Haotian's love for them was real — but Lianhua's presence was the foundation. The unshakable anchor he had always returned to.
Silence lingered until Yuying's voice broke it, colder now.
"And one more thing. What you saw today — Haotian fighting four Saint Dragons, touching Sovereign at eighteen — was not his full power."
The three women froze, eyes wide.
"Not… his full power?" Yinxue whispered.
Meiyun's eyes hardened, her teasing tone gone. "No. Within Haotian resides something far older, far heavier. The soul of a War God. His name is Alter."
The room chilled.
Ziyue's hand trembled on her sword hilt. Shuyue's lips parted, her voice barely audible. "…A War God… inside him?"
Yuying nodded solemnly. "You now see why the heavens themselves move around him. Haotian is not just himself — he is a vessel of a power that cannot be measured by years, realms, or logic."
The three sisters sat in stunned silence, hearts racing. They had just begun to understand the man they loved — and now they realized they had seen only the surface of the storm.
The silence hung thick after Meiyun's revelation.
Shuyue was the first to speak, her voice fragile, her fingers clutching the fabric of her robes. "Alter… the War God? What does that even mean? Who is he?"
Ziyue's voice sharpened. "Are you saying… Haotian is this Alter?"
Meiyun shook her head firmly. "No. Haotian is himself. His soul is untouched, unbroken. But Alter dwells within him. Not merged, not erased — simply waiting. His instincts bleed into Haotian. His growth, his impossible leaps, his affinity for battle… all of that is Alter's shadow pressing against him."
Shuyue swallowed hard. "Then… what happens if Alter awakens?"
Yuying's eyes softened, but her words were heavy. "If that happens, Haotian's will may be tested. The War God's soul may try to take control. And that is why you — all of you — matter. You are not just companions. You are his anchors, the ones who must hold him to himself when that day comes."
Ziyue's sharp eyes fixed on Meiyun, her voice colder, more direct. "If you say such words so casually, then explain. Because if you think I will simply accept that the man I love is carrying someone else's soul, you are mistaken."
Yinxue said nothing at first, but her hands clenched tightly at her sides, her breath controlled. Finally, she looked at Yuying with steady eyes. "Tell us everything."
Yuying's teasing smile had vanished entirely. Her expression was serious, her tone calm, as though she was peeling away the layers of a truth far too heavy for most.
"Alter," she began slowly, "is not merely a name. He was a war god — a sovereign born in an age of endless blood and fire. His body shattered, but his soul… his soul carried on. It drifted, unanchored, until fate placed it within Haotian."
Meiyun's voice cut in, sharper. "That boy you call Haotian — he is not just your normal disciple, not just a genius, not just a miracle child. He is the reincarnation of a war god. His instincts, his growth, his impossible breakthroughs — they are not accidents. They are fragments of Alter, guiding him."
Shuyue's lips trembled, tears threatening. "So… the Haotian we know… is he still Haotian? Or is he just this Alter, wearing his face?"
Yuying shook her head gently. "He is both. Alter's soul did not erase Haotian. It merged. What you love — his warmth, his stubbornness, his laughter — that is Haotian. But the power, the instinct to fight, the ability to reach realms far beyond his years… that is the War God's shadow."
Ziyue's brows furrowed, her sword aura rippling faintly. "Then what happens when that shadow grows too strong? What if Alter consumes him?"
Meiyun's eyes narrowed, her gaze suddenly piercing. "That is why you three matter."
The sisters blinked.
"Haotian's path is dangerous," Meiyun continued, her voice like iron. "Every battle pulls more of Alter's essence into play. Every step forward risks tilting him away from himself. Do you understand what that means?"
Yinxue's icy composure faltered. Her chest tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. "…He could lose himself."
"Yes." Yuying's tone was solemn. "He could become something beyond even his own will. And that is why you are not just companions, not just lovers. You are anchors."
Shuyue's hands tightened on her knees. "Anchors… like Lianhua was."
Yuying smiled faintly. "Exactly. Lianhua anchored him as a boy. But now, with power beyond reason swelling in him, one anchor is no longer enough. You must stand beside him, not just as women who love him — but as cultivators who can reach his heart, even when the War God stirs."
The three sisters fell into silence again. The teasing was gone. The laughter was gone. What remained was the heavy weight of truth.
They were not just Haotian's dao companions. They were his lifeline.
The chamber fell quiet after Meiyun's explanation, the air thick with tension. But Yuying's eyes softened as she folded her hands.
"You should know," she said quietly, "Alter has awakened once before."
The three women froze, their hearts seizing.
"When?" Yinxue demanded, her icy composure cracking.
Yuying's gaze drifted, recalling the tale. "Nearly a year ago. During the Azure Dragon Sky Sect's darkest hour."
Her voice lowered, heavy with gravity.
"Haotian and Lianhua were pursued by traitorous sects. He was only at peak Soul Transformation Realm then. Yet three Saint Realms cornered him. With nothing but his spear and sheer defiance, he fought them. And miraculously… he defeated them."
The sisters' eyes widened, shock rippling across their faces.
"But the cost was terrible," Meiyun continued coldly. "His body was broken. His meridians shattered. He fell, bleeding, on the brink of death."
Shuyue clasped her hands to her lips. "Haotian…"
"That," Yuying said softly, "was when Alter stirred."
The room chilled.
"Alter woke inside him. And in that instant, he saved not only Haotian, but the entire Azure Dragon Sky Sect. He rose, wielding powers no mortal should command. He slew every enemy that dared raise a hand. And then…" Her eyes glimmered. "He rewound time."
The sisters gasped.
"Yes," Yuying confirmed. "He reversed the devastation. Restored the shattered sect walls, the broken formations, the fallen disciples. It was as if the invasion had never happened. A miracle carved into the world."
Ziyue's voice trembled despite her will. "Time itself… bent back?"
Meiyun nodded. "That is Alter. A War God who once sundered heavens. When he woke, not even Saint Realms mattered."
The weight of silence pressed down.
"Afterward," Yuying went on, "Alter carried Haotian through a space crack — to the Northern Continent. There, he restored his crippled body and meridians with powers beyond comprehension. And when his work was done…" She exhaled. "He fell back into slumber."
The three women sat frozen, stunned by the tale.
Yinxue's voice was low, trembling despite herself. "So… if Alter had not awakened, Haotian… would be dead."
"Yes," Meiyun said simply.
Shuyue's eyes brimmed with tears. "And the sect… would be gone."
"Correct," Yuying answered.
The sisters looked at each other, their breaths shallow, their hearts torn between awe and dread.
Haotian was theirs, their Senior Brother, their anchor, their light. But within him slumbered a god of war, a being who could bend time and shatter realms.
And if that god woke again… would Haotian still remain himself?
The courtyard chamber was quiet after Yuying and Meiyun finished their tale.
Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue sat in silence, their eyes cast down, hearts heavy with the weight of what they had learned. They did not argue, did not speak — only contemplated. The truth of Haotian, the slumbering War God Alter, and their role as anchors pressed into them like an unshakable mountain.
The door creaked open.
Haotian stepped in, his robe still tattered from battle, golden eyes calm but dimmed with fatigue. Behind him came Yangshen, arms crossed but a shadow of strain still visible in the lines of his jaw, and Jinhai, his steps measured, his aura sealed tightly as though deep in reflection.
Meiyun's lips curled faintly. "You return already?"
Yangshen let out a grunt. "We've seen enough. The boy's improvements are… satisfactory."
Yuying's laughter rang clear, lightening the room. "Satisfactory? You sparred with him until you bled from the nose and mouth, old man." Her eyes glimmered as she leaned forward. "What is it really? Did you simply tire of playing, or did he injure you too much, and now you must 'further your recovery' elsewhere?"
Yangshen's face twitched. "Woman."
Yuying's smile widened, utterly unbothered. "I'll take that as the second option."
The three sisters blinked, then — despite their heavy hearts — couldn't help but cover their mouths to hide faint smiles.
Jinhai chuckled under his breath, his deep voice carrying the weight of amusement. "Hah. Admit it, Yangshen. He struck you harder than you expected."
Yangshen growled, though his eyes flicked toward Haotian, grudging pride burning there. "Hmph. I'll admit nothing. But… he's grown. More than I imagined."
Haotian smirked faintly, his gaze sliding toward Yangshen. "Next time, I'll make you eat dirt."
The room went still — then Yuying burst out laughing again, her melodic voice filling the chamber. Meiyun's cold mask cracked into a rare smile, while Jinhai shook his head, muttering, "Reckless brat."
And Yangshen? He threw back his head and laughed, a booming sound that shook the chamber. "Good! Then I'll be waiting."
The four Saint Dragons lingered only briefly after the laughter. Their gazes swept once more over the Moon Lotus Sect, pride and amusement mingling in their eyes. Then, with a few final words — half encouragement, half teasing — they rose into the skies and vanished beyond the clouds, their draconic auras fading into the distance.
Silence returned to the sect.
Haotian stood alone at the center of the courtyard, his tattered robes still carrying the scent of battle, his eyes dim yet unbroken. For the first time since the clash, the weight of everything pressed down without distraction.
That was when three shadows rushed forward.
"Haotian!"
Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue leapt toward him at once, their composure shattered. They collided into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around him, refusing to let go.
Haotian blinked, startled for only a moment, before he felt their trembling. Their qi trembled too — not from weakness, but from the emotions they had carried since Yuying and Meiyun's revelations.
They knew now. His secrets. The soul of Alter within him. The burden of carrying a power no one else could shoulder.
Only eighteen years old — and yet already standing where sovereigns struggled to breathe.
The three pressed their faces against him, each in their own way.
Yinxue's cold exterior melted as she whispered, "You've carried too much alone…"
Ziyue's sharp voice wavered, her sword aura trembling. "Even knowing what dwells inside you… my heart won't turn away."
Shuyue's tears spilled freely, her words muffled against his sleeve. "Haotian… you're still so young… but you shine so brightly it hurts."
Their arms tightened around him as if they could anchor him themselves, as if their embrace could shield him from the world's weight.
Haotian exhaled softly, his golden eyes lowering. For once, he didn't tease. Didn't laugh. He only lifted his arms and drew them closer, holding them as the silence stretched.
The boy who bore a War God's soul, the cultivator who had shaken dragons and heavens, the genius who was still only eighteen — stood in the quiet heart of his sect, embraced by the three women who had seen his truth and loved him still.
And for that moment, despite the storm still waiting beyond the horizon, he felt… anchored.
Two years passed like drifting snow.
The Moon Lotus Sect was no longer the same place it had been when Haotian first walked its gates. What had begun as a meteoric rise had steadied, the sharpest edges of their growth blunted not by weakness, but by the reality of cultivation itself.
The majority of disciples had already broken through to the late stage of Dao Comprehension Realm in spirit cultivation. Their souls burned brighter than ever, but the next step — the Soul Transformation Realm — loomed like a mountain wall.
Their bodies, too, had advanced, each one honed through relentless tempering. With Haotian's pills, his dual cultivation methods, and the endless drills, every disciple had reached the 8th Stage of the Undying Dragon Body Sutra. Their flesh resonated with dragon's might, strong enough to shatter steel with bare hands, resilient enough to shrug off blows that once would have crippled them.
At the peak, the three sisters stood like blazing stars.
Yinxue had mastered her sevenfold dao: frost, ice, sword, love, piercing, space, and time. Her strikes carried inevitability — a storm of beauty and annihilation, a dao harmonized to perfection.
Ziyue had sharpened her triple dao of icewind sword into something greater, weaving in the dao of piercing to match Yinxue blow for blow. The speed of her swordplay had become terrifying, blades that whistled like storms and shattered defenses with ruthless precision.
Shuyue, the youngest, had climbed her own path of miracles. Of the seven virtues, she had grasped three in full: love, loyalty, and justice. Each intertwined with her sword dao, lending her strikes an emotional weight that bent the battlefield itself. Her opponents faltered, not from wounds alone, but from the pressure of her virtue-infused intent. She continued to ascend, the other virtues shimmering just out of reach, waiting for her heart to grow further.
Even their space and time concepts had matured, the frameworks solid enough to align with their daos. Flickers of temporal distortion now danced in their sword strikes, spatial tears hummed faintly behind their movements.
And Haotian…
He had cultivated smoothly, his cores stable, his body tempered, his spirit unwavering. Though he spoke little of his limits, everyone knew — he stood as the pillar still far beyond their reach.
Today, he stood in the center of the sect's sparring arena.
Golden eyes glowed faintly, his aura relaxed yet unshakable. In his hands, the rebuilt Fenlong Spear gleamed with a sharper resonance than before.
Before him stood Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue, their qi blazing, their eyes steady.
It had been years since they first declared their feelings, years since they first stood by his side in battle. Now, all three moved as one.
The disciples ringed the arena, holding their breath.
The air trembled.
And then—
Haotian smiled. "All three of you at once, is it? Good. Come. Show me everything."
The sisters leapt forward together, their combined daos roaring to life.
And thus began the spar that would shake the entire sect.