The Mission Hall was silent except for the flutter of jade slips circling above Haotian's palm. Dozens of missions glowed faintly, each one radiating the weight of battlefields yet to come.
Other sects fumed openly. "He's hoarding them all!"
"No sect can take everything—!"
But Haotian didn't flinch. With a slow wave of his hand, the slips split apart, streaking like shooting stars across the hall.
They did not scatter randomly.
Each one settled into the hands of designated team leaders — Sovereigns chosen for their steadiness and strength. As the slips touched them, the talismans on their armor flared, binding them as anchors for their missions. Gasps rippled as the Phoenix Legion was split cleanly into 150 strike teams, each of five Sovereigns.
Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue's talismans glowed faintly, but not with the full mission bind. Like all disciples, they carried personal talismans — jade slips given by the Trial headquarters to every participant. These would record their kills, track their contributions, and display their names on the ranking lists. Only the leaders' talismans carried the missions themselves, but all Sovereigns would be accounted for.
Haotian closed his hand, and one last mission slip drifted into his grasp. His voice carried across the hall. "My team will be Yinxue, Ziyue, Shuyue, Elder Feng, and myself."
The disciples stiffened. Even as commander, he had chosen not to stand apart, but to fight at the front with his sisters and their elder. The hall buzzed with disbelief.
Haotian's gaze swept the Legion, calm but absolute. "These missions are not trophies. They are trials. Each team will walk its own path. You will fight together, bleed together, and rise together. The Blood Trial is not for cowards. Stand, and prove yourselves."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then fists rose, armor flared, and the Phoenix Legion roared as one. "Phoenix Legion!"
The sound rattled the rafters, drowning out the protests of rival sects. Even the officials could not deny what had been sealed: the talismans glowed, acknowledging every claim.
Haotian lowered his hand, his mantle trailing faint starlight. "The Phoenix Legion does not beg. We take the battlefield in full."
And with those words, the Phoenix Legion became not a sect — but an army.
The fortress gates thundered open.
One hundred and fifty strike teams stepped into the wilderness, their phoenix armors gleaming silver-blue with rainbow sheen, their mantles flowing like wings. Every movement sent frostfire ripples shimmering across the landscape. Each Sovereign carried their phoenix dao sword, its rainbow-feather hilt glowing faintly with runes, the will of the blade pulsing in harmony with its wielder.
To the outside sects watching, it was a spectacle. No sect in history had ever fielded so many Sovereigns in such unity.
The missions began at once.
Team One descended upon a demon nest hidden in the ruins of a fallen village. Their swords lit with flame Dao, arcs of molten crimson flashing against scales. Phoenix armor blazed, each strike leaving trails of fiery feathers in the air.
Team Twelve fought in a swamp, their dao merging water and wind. Waves surged with every slash, winds scattering venomous fog. Their armor shimmered with blue-green light, feathers trailing water droplets that cut like blades.
Team Twenty-Seven unleashed earth and lightning. Every stomp shattered ground into quakes, every thrust released thunder arcs. Their swords crackled like storm-spears, and their phoenix armor resonated with booming light.
But at the forefront were Haotian's own.
Yinxue's phoenix sword shimmered frostfire blue, her strikes weaving ice and flame into spirals of annihilation. Each swing left frozen feathers that exploded into fire when they shattered. But more than that, her blade cracked faint ripples of space Dao, her strikes bending distance so her sword landed before the demons could even react.
Ziyue's sword glowed silver, her dao harmonizing light and shadow. Waves of moonlit flame devoured demons in arcs that bent with time Dao — blades appearing delayed or striking twice within the same heartbeat. Her armor's veil shimmered, scattering phoenix feathers that phased through the battlefield like echoes of the past and future.
And then Shuyue moved.
Her phoenix sword blazed in rainbow fire, resonating with all ten elemental Daos at once. Flame and frost, lightning and wind, earth and metal, wood and water, light and shadow — each blended seamlessly, her strikes carrying the weight of perfect harmony. Layered over this, her aura pulsed with her Seven Virtues Dao, every strike infused with justice, compassion, truth, loyalty, humility, wisdom, and courage.
And when her sword cut the air, the space itself folded — shimmering cracks of sword space Dao opened and closed in her wake. Time twisted faintly, her blade striking before the arc was even finished, forcing demons to collapse in disbelief.
The battlefield became a storm of color and inevitability.
From mission to mission, the Phoenix Legion carved through demon hordes. Every team worked in perfect unison: five Sovereigns moving as one, phoenix armor trails linking into feathers of frostfire, phoenix swords blazing with dao light. When they struck together, entire nests collapsed in storms of elemental fury.
By nightfall, the Blood Trial ranking board had shifted violently.
Names from the Phoenix Legion flooded the list, their talismans glowing with fresh tallies. Teams leapt into the hundreds, fifties, thirties. Several names — Yinxue, Ziyue, Shuyue — broke straight into the top twenty, their scores climbing with terrifying speed.
Gasps echoed through the headquarters as disciples of other sects stared at the board. "They… they're everywhere…"
"No sect should be able to rise this fast…"
"They'll drown the rankings!"
But nothing could stop it. The Phoenix Legion had entered the Blood Trial — and with every mission completed, they reshaped the war itself.
And at the center of it all, Haotian stood calm, his dragon armor glowing faintly, golden eyes watching the board with quiet certainty.
This was only the beginning.
The fortress plaza was silent.
The jade ranking board floated high above, names flickering in constant motion. By the second night of the Blood Trial, one truth had shaken the entire headquarters:
The Phoenix Legion filled it.
Dozens of names pierced the top fifty. Hundreds spread across the top two hundred. Three — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue — gleamed among the top twenty. The board no longer looked like the competition of many sects. It looked like the dominance of one.
The Phoenix Legion disciples returned from their first missions, but not battered nor bloodied. Their phoenix armor gleamed spotless, silver-blue and rainbow sheen reflecting torchlight. Their swords shone with dao glow, feathers at the hilts humming faintly as though proud of their wielders.
Laughter and chatter echoed through the hall.
"I broke into the top fifty!"
"You're catching up to me already? Not a chance!""Shuyue's sword—did you see it? The demons didn't even know what hit them!"
The women gathered together, their cheeks flushed with victory.
"You were incredible out there!"
"No, you were! That flame arc was perfect."
"And your frostfire—how can anyone fight that?"
At the center, Haotian stood calm, his dragon armor shimmering with constellations, his mantle flowing like a silent starfield. He hadn't glanced once at his talisman. To him, their glow was inevitable.
Yinxue bowed her head slightly, her frostfire veil still shimmering faintly. "Haotian… everything we've done is because of you. You gave us this path."Ziyue stepped closer, lips curving in her knowing smile. "She's right. You deserve the awards more than us."Shuyue said nothing. She slipped her arm through his and leaned against him, her smile soft but full of meaning.
Inside the hall, there was unity, laughter, and light.
The other sects could only stare at the board in disbelief.
At the Azure Tempest Hall camp, elders whispered nervously. Feng Yueru's name burned brightly, already climbing into the top ranks. Her aura was different, her glow unmistakable. Her parents exchanged long, heavy looks.
"She's changed…"
"More than that. She's risen above even our core disciples."
At the Sun Vermillion Pavilion, anger erupted. Yanfei's name stood tall among the highest ranks, frostfire cutting her way through the trial. "She should be here, not out there!" an elder spat.
"She defies her bloodline. This cannot stand!"
The Northern sects muttered uneasily. None of them had expected the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect — once dismissed as weak — to suddenly field an army of Sovereigns stronger than anything seen in decades.
Across the Central Continent, Sovereigns and Emperors stirred in their distant halls. "The balance has shifted," one muttered. "Too fast. Too dangerous," said another. "If they keep this pace, even Emperors may be forced to acknowledge them."
Schemes began in silence.
At the top of the board, Taixun scowled openly, his name glowing first. But the light of Phoenix Legion names climbing all around him made his expression darken. "Numbers. That's all they are," he sneered. "A thousand weaklings can't compare to one true genius."
Others nodded, though unease flickered behind their arrogance. None dared say aloud what they feared — that the Phoenix Legion wasn't just rising. They were rewriting the trial.
Inside the hall, Haotian stood with the sisters clinging to him, the Legion glowing with joy. Outside, envy and fear boiled like a storm waiting to break.
The Phoenix Legion had arrived. And the world could not ignore them.
The ranking board shimmered high above the fortress plaza, Phoenix Legion names climbing higher with every passing hour.
But in the crowd, one man's expression soured.
Taixun — ranked first, personal disciple of an Emperor, mid-stage Sovereign — stood in crimson-gold robes, a spear slung across his shoulder. His smirk spread as his voice rang out over the plaza, sharp and mocking.
"So this is the mighty Phoenix Legion?" he sneered. "Seven hundred Sovereigns… all hiding behind one man. Numbers may impress fools, but to a true genius, one hand is worth more than your entire army."
The plaza buzzed with murmurs, some amused, others uneasy. Eyes turned toward the silver-blue formation of the Phoenix Legion, their armor gleaming, their posture disciplined.
Haotian stepped forward. His golden eyes met Taixun's across the square.
"The Blood Trial exists to end the demon invasion," he said, his voice calm, steady. "Not to indulge in petty rivalries. Every life here should be spent on the front lines, not in childish infighting."
Taixun barked a laugh. "Petty? You think I'll stand by while you drown the board with your nameless flock? Without them, you're nothing. Strip away your numbers, and you'll fall like the rest."
The crowd gasped at his boldness. Some flinched under the weight of Haotian's gaze, which never wavered.
"If you believe that," Haotian replied, his tone unchanged, "then you can try. But know this—strength built on arrogance collapses fastest of all."
With that, he began to walk.
Step by step, he crossed the plaza. No aura flared, no killing intent spilled. His dragon armor glowed faintly with cosmic sheen, constellations rippling across its surface, his mantle flowing like the night sky.
And yet, with each step, the atmosphere thickened. The Dao of the Universe seeped out quietly, pressing on every Sovereign present. Not sharp, not violent — but inevitable. Like gravity. Like time.
Taixun's smirk faltered for the briefest moment.
Around them, the whispers died away. The plaza grew silent as the two men stood face to face, the weight of inevitability filling the air.
The fortress plaza held its breath.
Taixun, mid-stage Sovereign and disciple of an Emperor, stood in crimson-gold robes, his spear crackling with Sovereign fire. His smirk widened as Haotian approached, each step calm, his dragon armor shimmering with constellations, his mantle trailing like the night sky itself.
"So this is your commander?" Taixun called out, his voice sharp. "Numbers may impress fools, but without your flock, you are nothing."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The Phoenix Legion stood in silence behind Haotian, their armor gleaming pristine, their phoenix dao swords resting at their sides.
Haotian stopped before him, golden eyes steady, calm as still water. "The Blood Trial exists to end the demon invasion," he said evenly. "Not for petty rivalries."
Taixun barked a laugh, tightening his grip on the spear. "Petty? I'll prove to everyone here you're no more than a name on a board."
Haotian did not respond. Instead, he closed the final steps between them until he stood directly before Taixun, so close the Emperor's disciple had to tilt his chin upward to meet his gaze.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Haotian sighed softly, almost weary, and raised a single hand. He placed it gently on Taixun's shoulder.
It was the lightest touch.
And then the weight fell.
Invisible. Inescapable. Absolute.
Taixun's eyes went wide. Veins bulged across his temples as sweat poured down his face in torrents. His mid-stage Sovereign aura flared violently, crimson fire screaming into the air as he fought to withstand it. But the pressure didn't resist him — it ignored him, pressing down like time itself, like the inevitability of stars.
His smirk twisted into a grimace, his teeth grinding as his knees shook. The stone cracked beneath his boots. Then, with a resounding crack, his legs gave way. He crashed to his knees, spear clattering to the floor.
Gasps broke through the plaza."He's kneeling—?""An Emperor's disciple… crushed with a touch?"
Sweat drenched Taixun, his crimson-gold robes plastered to his skin. He panted raggedly, his body trembling as humiliation burned across his face.
Haotian's hand remained steady on his shoulder, his golden eyes unblinking. "Do not scheme against the Phoenix Legion," he said softly, every word carrying across the square. "Do not touch my girls. Or you will die without even knowing how."
Then his hand lifted. The pressure vanished as if it had never been. Taixun collapsed forward onto his palms, gasping, his pride in ruins.
The Phoenix Legion's Response
The plaza froze, then erupted with laughter. The Phoenix Legion's Sovereigns jeered openly, their voices ringing louder with every passing heartbeat.
"You dare challenge our commander without knowing what heaven is?""First place in the rankings, and this is all you have?""He thought he was untouchable because he came here first—how pathetic!"
Their taunts escalated, mocking not just Taixun's failure but the arrogance that brought him to his knees.
The humiliation was absolute. Taixun's face burned crimson, his breath harsh, sweat dripping down his jaw as the jeering surrounded him.
And then Haotian coughed lightly.
Instant silence. Every Phoenix Legion disciple turned to him at once.
"Enough," Haotian said calmly. "Return to camp. Rest. Tomorrow, we continue the war that matters."
With discipline sharp as a blade, the Legion fell into order and marched away, their voices gone as swiftly as they had risen.
Inside the Phoenix Legion Camp
The hall was quieter, filled with the faint hum of swords and the rustle of armor as disciples settled. Victory still glowed in their eyes, but the air carried another weight.
Yinxue approached first, her frostfire veil dimmed, her gaze steady on him. "You called us your girls," she said softly. "In front of everyone."
Ziyue followed, her lips curving faintly. "Bold words, Commander. You know they all heard it."
Shuyue said nothing. She simply slipped closer, hugging his arm with a smile that needed no words.
Haotian looked at them, his golden eyes softening. "Because it's true."
The sisters flushed, their pride and joy barely contained. Yinxue's lips curved upward, Ziyue let out a quiet laugh, and Shuyue's grip only tightened, her smile radiant.
For them, it wasn't just victory that mattered. It was that Haotian had claimed them, not in whispers, but before the world.
The news spread faster than wildfire.
In less than a day, every sect camp across the Northern Continent heard the story: Taixun, Emperor's disciple and mid-stage Sovereign, had been humiliated in the fortress plaza. One hand on his shoulder — that was all it had taken for Haotian to press him to his knees.
The shock was immediate.
In the mountain pavilions of the Northern sects, Sovereigns gathered in silence around jade transmission tablets replaying fragments of what witnesses had seen. Taixun's crimson aura, flaring violently. Haotian, tranquil in his dragon armor, sighing as if weary. A hand resting lightly. And then — an Emperor's disciple buckling like a child before the weight of inevitability.
Whispers spread through the halls like poison.
"If that was a duel… then what chance do we have?""He didn't even draw a weapon.""With seven hundred Sovereigns behind him… who can control this Phoenix Legion now?"
Fear crept into voices that had once been dismissive. For months, the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect had been whispered about as weak, a shadow of what the Central Continent's great sects considered "true powers." But now?
Now, they saw an army of Sovereigns led by someone who could reduce Taixun to a kneeling wreck with nothing but a touch.
Even the elder councils were shaken. Some Sovereigns spoke of forming alliances immediately — better to stand beside this rising force than against it. Others urged restraint, their voices edged with fear.
"If we ally, we admit we cannot control them.""If we oppose them, we invite annihilation."
The dilemma tightened like a noose.
Beyond the fortress, whispers stirred through the Northern Continent's cities, carried by wandering cultivators and merchants alike. Stories of the Phoenix Legion spread from taverns to sect halls, always ending the same:
"Seven hundred Sovereigns — and a commander who crushed Taixun with a hand on his shoulder."
It was no longer a question of whether Haotian was dangerous. It was whether anyone could stop him if he chose to act.
And in that silence, fear gave way to the one thing cultivators dreaded most — the realization that the world might already be slipping out of their control.
The fortress had gone quiet for the night, the Phoenix Legion resting peacefully after a day of missions and training. Inside the commander's chamber, Haotian sat with Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue, their laughter soft, their closeness warm.
But then his golden eyes shifted toward the northern horizon. He drew in a slow breath. "There's something I need to do," he said.
The sisters looked at him sharply.
"I want to check the Sea Bridge."
The words landed like thunder.
Yinxue's frostfire aura trembled as her lips parted, disbelief in her eyes. Ziyue was the first to protest, her voice edged with fear. "Haotian, no. You can't. Not again."
Shuyue's hands clutched his arm tight, tears welling in her eyes. "Do you remember last time? You fought there alone for seven days. Seven days without reinforcements. You nearly died."
Their voices overlapped, their emotions pouring out.
"You fought a Demon Emperor there," Yinxue said, her voice breaking. "You bled yourself dry just holding the line."
"And in the end," Ziyue whispered, tears glistening, "Alter had to step in and finish the fight. If he hadn't appeared, you wouldn't have returned at all."
Shuyue sobbed softly against him. "When you did come back… you were broken. Battered to the brink of death. We thought we'd lost you."
Haotian froze, words caught in his throat. He hadn't expected the weight of their memory to crush the room like this. Their teary eyes, their trembling voices, every reminder of what he had endured—and what they had nearly lost.
He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close, kissing each of their foreheads in turn. "I know," he said softly. "I remember. I won't ever forget what that place took from me—or from you."
For a moment, silence lingered, filled only with their quiet sobs. Then he continued, steady but resolute. "But this time is different. I'm not going to fight. I only want to see the grand killing array, the state of the battlefield, and the enemy's strength. Nothing more."
The sisters pulled back slightly, their eyes searching his.
"I'll fight with you," he promised. "Never alone again. Not like before. But I need to know what we're facing."
The three looked at him, tears streaming, unwilling to release him—and yet they could see in his eyes that his decision was firm.
"Only reconnaissance," Yinxue whispered, her voice trembling.
"Silent reconnaissance," Ziyue repeated, her tone edged with warning.
"No fighting," Shuyue begged, clinging to his arm.
Haotian nodded, kissing each of them once more. "Silent reconnaissance. I swear it."
They kissed him in return, lingering, their lips trembling against his as if to seal the vow with their hearts.
Only then did they let him go.
Outside, the night sky stretched wide. Haotian stood beneath it, his dragon armor glowing faintly with constellations. His golden eyes hardened as he turned toward the Sea Bridge.
And with a final breath, he stepped into the warp of space, vanishing into the currents of the Dao.