At Àotiān Academy,
The sun slanted west.
—
Three days earlier,
Shěn Dàohéng arrived alone,
Thirty li outside the academy.
After his calculations broke,
He used the method of chasing qi into mechanism—
Caught a familiar trace of Star Mark breath.
He wasn't sure of the source.
But the direction was clear.
—
Two days earlier,
He began laying ambush arrays around the area,
Sealing escape routes.
The previous night,
He had already slipped near the academy,
Confirmed the wards and defenses.
Only Sword Hall in the inner court—
Its qi was most alive.
—
"Today, seeing that move…
I finally understand."
His eyes surged with killing intent.
—
That day, Sword Hall held an internal exhibition.
More than ten disciples watched from the outer court.
Xiǎo Chén, invited by Xuānyuán Dié,
Demonstrated the Stellar Tyrant Spear Art.
—
One strike swept out.
Spear shadows streaked like stars.
The ground cracked in a ring.
The crowd marveled.
None noticed the subtle change hidden in the spear force.
Only a black-clad figure in the shadows of a tall building—
His eyes flickered.
His thoughts shifted.
—
"This move…
It's the remnant of Sevenfold Shattered Star."
Shěn Dàohéng's gaze darkened.
"But altered.
The breath…
Not copied.
Inherited—then transformed?"
—
His killing intent hardened.
The Xīnghén Sect should have been severed long ago.
—
"Tonight I strike.
One blow—kill.
No witnesses."
"Avoid the ward's focus.
Enter from Sword Hall's east side.
Finish in two breaths.
Withdraw in five."
He whispered,
Calculating every step.
—
Night fell.
The academy lay silent.
—
Xuán Chén sat in the rear hall of the Spirit Cultivation Hall.
Brows furrowed.
A ripple brushed his mind-sea.
"The wind…
Is disturbed."
—
At the same time,
Shěn Dàohéng, masked in black,
Slipped into the inner court like a phantom.
He bypassed the wards,
Headed straight for Sword Hall.
He wasn't certain of his target.
But the spear he'd seen that day—
Already gave him suspicion.
—
"If it's possible—
Then he must die."
—
Inside Sword Hall,
Xiǎo Chén sat cross-legged, cultivating.
The Dragon Soul Spear rested across his lap.
Suddenly—
Killing intent surged.
He leapt up.
Dodged the first strike.
Countered with his spear.
The air cracked.
He couldn't see the attacker's face.
But he knew—
This was no friend.
—
"Who are you!"
—
Shěn Dàohéng gave no answer.
His palms flowed like a storm.
Strike after strike.
Xiǎo Chén fought back,
Breaking several blows.
But at last—
One palm sent him flying.
Blood churned.
The jade at his chest flickered faintly.
As if responding.
—
Shěn Dàohéng had thought this would be effortless.
Yet Xiǎo Chén not only endured—
His qi steadied.
His spear grew sharper.
In the midst of death—
A hint of spear intent emerged.
—
His eyes narrowed.
Killing intent surged.
If this boy lives—
He will be my bane.
—
"Die!"
—
His fury erupted.
True essence flooded his palm.
He struck.
Xiǎo Chén couldn't evade.
His chest shook violently.
But at the last instant—
An unseen force blocked the fatal blow.
Most of the power was stripped away.
—
Still, Xiǎo Chén was hurled back.
Crashing into a stone pillar.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
His breath faltered.
—
Shěn Dàohéng frowned.
Thought—
That strike… felt wrong.
Something blocked my essence.
And that sound… like something shattered…
—
"Senior brother!"
—
A cry rang from outside.
Shī Tóngbǎi's eyes widened.
He spun, bolted away—
Shouting—
"Someone's killing! Sword Hall's under attack! Teacher Xuānyuán—come quick!"
—
Shěn Dàohéng
stepped forward to confirm his kill—
But before he could,
A sword aura burst through the wall,
Carrying thunder and storm,
Slashing straight for his chest!
—
"Who dares kill in my Sword Hall? Courting death!"
A fierce cry split the night.
—
Xuānyuán Dié arrived, sword in hand.
Her hair flew,
Eyes blazing with fury.
One strike shattered wall and ground.
Shěn Dàohéng twisted aside, startled—
This woman… so fast!
—
He tried to retreat.
But in that instant—
A mountain-like pressure descended.
His body faltered.
He forced his breath to resist.
His qi grew disordered.
—
"Who dares cause chaos in Àotiān!"
A thunderous roar shook the void.
—
From above,
A white figure dove down.
Robes whipped like storm clouds.
In a heartbeat,
He landed on Sword Hall's stone steps.
—
Gǔ Líng spread his sleeves.
Feet pressed into stone.
His aura towered like a mountain.
Cold eyes locked on the masked intruder.
—
Shěn Dàohéng cursed inwardly—
Damn it. His strength… equal to mine.
Half-step Symbol Realm perfection.
This must be Àotiān's Headmaster, Gǔ Líng.
—
His thoughts raced—
If this drags on, the whole academy will be alarmed.
My qi has already leaked. If my identity is exposed—
Zhaìxīng Palace's face will be ruined.
—
He dared not linger.
He suppressed every trace of Zhaìxīng Palace's aura.
His body turned to light—
And fled.
—
Gǔ Líng pursued.
His qi spread like a net.
But he was half a step too slow.
Shěn Dàohéng vanished into the night.
—
Gǔ Líng halted.
His face darkened.
He murmured—
"This man… deliberately masked his qi."
"Even I cannot discern it."
"Not a common foe."
—
He turned swiftly back to Sword Hall.
Xuānyuán Dié was lifting Xiǎo Chén,
His breath chaotic, face pale.
At that moment,
Gǔ Líng returned from the outer hall.
She looked up, pain flickering in her eyes—
"Headmaster Gǔ… he…"
—
Gǔ Líng's voice was deep—
"Take him to Sword Hall's healing chamber.
I'll diagnose."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi, hearing the order,
Didn't wait for anyone else.
He rushed forward,
Hoisted the unconscious Xiǎo Chén onto his back,
And sprinted toward the healing chamber.
—
As he ran, he muttered—
"Senior brother, you must hold on…
Don't die…
I haven't repaid you yet…"
—
Disciples saw and quickly cleared the way,
Faces tense.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi laid Xiǎo Chén carefully on the bed.
Gǔ Líng stepped forward,
Placed his hand on the pulse.
Brows furrowed.
—
He sensed the pulse was chaotic,
But vital energy remained.
No mortal danger.
Only the chest meridians were blocked.
—
He withdrew his spiritual sense,
Lifted the robe.
On the chest—
Bruises, faint scorch marks.
At the center—
Fragments of white shards, fine as sand.
—
He probed with spiritual breath.
Touched the shards.
Still lingering—
A familiar, gentle aura.
As if someone's will had shielded Xiǎo Chén from death.
—
His eyes sharpened.
The thought confirmed—
An artifact protected him.
Though shattered, it saved his life.
—
Gǔ Líng sighed softly—
"This child…
His fate is stubborn."
—
Xuānyuán Dié looked at the bruises and shards.
Her voice was hoarse—
"Headmaster Gǔ, please aid him."
—
Gǔ Líng replied gently—
"Rest assured."
—
Light flowed from his sleeve.
Gathered at his palm.
He pressed against Xiǎo Chén's chest.
Qi streamed like a spring,
Flowing around the wound,
Unblocking the meridians,
Steadying the chaotic breath.
—
Moments later,
Xiǎo Chén's breath steadied.
His face was pale,
But no longer taut like a drawn bowstring.
—
Gǔ Líng sighed—
"Good thing we made it in time…
From here, it depends on his own fate."
—
Xiǎo Chén's expression eased.
His breath grew calm.
Then he sank into deep unconsciousness.
His mind drifted—
And in dream, he saw her again.
—
She stood across a small river.
Turned back, smiling.
Xiǎo Chén ran toward her, shouting—
"Wait… I still haven't… found you…"
—
In his sleep, his lips moved faintly.
Voice inaudible.
—
Suddenly—
A black figure appeared before him.
Swift.
A hand clamped his throat.
He struggled to breathe.
Fought to break free.
But the grip held firm.
Unyielding.
—
The shadow whispered, mocking—
"Look at you.
Too fragile.
You can't even protect yourself.
How will you protect her?"
"You fear losing her—
But what you truly fear…
Is your own helplessness."
—
Xiǎo Chén's eyes widened in pain.
The dream shifted.
He saw her chased by beasts.
Tears streaming.
She turned back, desperate.
Her gaze pleading—
Begging him to come save her.
—
At the same time,
A dark mist rose from his chest.
—
"You want to save her?
You need power."
The voice tempted—
"Accept me.
And you'll wield the strength to change fate."
—
The mist took shape.
A figure identical to Xiǎo Chén stepped forth.
Its smile cold—
"I am you.
All your hate and resentment made flesh."
"I am the half you forgot."
"Remember that night?
In the firelight—
When you struck without pain,
Only wanting to kill him?"
"That wasn't you.
It was me."
—
Xiǎo Chén trembled.
The shadow's words pierced bone.
His mind flashed back—
The battle with Yán Shà.
His eyes blazing.
Fists pounding.
Yet he remembered nothing of it.
—
He asked, trembling—
"Then… you're controlling me?"
—
The black mist smiled—
"No. You allowed me."
"When you closed your eyes—
You let me out."
"Now… let me help you."
—
Across the river,
The woman stumbled.
Beasts closed in.
—
"No!!"
—
A cry of anguish.
Xiǎo Chén's spirit broke—
"I can't let her die again!"
—
In dream,
He opened his eyes to the shadow's words.
Blood-red gaze.
Breath erupting like a volcano.
Skin marked with purple-black lines.
He whispered—
"I want power…
I want… to protect her…"
—
But at that moment—
In reality,
His sleeping body convulsed.
Dark mist surged from his chest.
His breath shifted violently.
—
A cold wind slipped through the window.
Like the lingering touch of those cold hands in dream.
It made him shudder.
Something tore inside—
Not flesh, but soul.
—
Xuānyuán Dié saw the change.
He rose slowly,
Qi waves surging.
Purple-black aura coiled around him.
His face calm—
Yet twisted with evil.
—
She stiffened—
"This aura… could it be…!"
—
She shouted—
"Shī Tóngbǎi!
Get everyone out of Sword Hall—now!"
—
Shī Tóngbǎi had just stepped into the healing chamber.
About to speak—
But froze.
On the bed,
Xiǎo Chén floated upward.
Qi waves roared.
Purple-black lines crawled across his skin.
His eyes burned crimson.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi's eyes widened.
He stood stunned.
—
"This… what's happening…"
—
In the next instant,
A deep roar burst from Xiǎo Chén's body.
Not human.
Like a beast.
Like a wail from the underworld.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi shuddered.
Cold shot down his spine.
He snapped awake.
Shouted in terror—
"Not good! Run!!"
—
He spun, bolted for the door.
Cried out as he fled—
"Sword Hall's in chaos!
Everyone—get out!"
—
Inside,
Xiǎo Chén slowly turned.
Floating above the ground.
His gaze locked on Xuānyuán Dié.
—
She stared back, unblinking.
Raised her hand.
The Flying Butterfly Sword flew from its sheath,
Into her palm.
—
Xiǎo Chén smiled faintly.
Raised his hand.
The Dragon Soul Spear answered.
Settled into his grasp.
—
Xuānyuán Dié sneered—
"Let's hope this isn't as dull as the day you entered."
"Give me a fight worth the name."
—
Her eyes flickered.
Not only shock—
But a strange thrill.
Her aura surged.
Battle intent rising.
—
This power… is it truly his?
Or merely awakened?
Her gaze sharpened.
Lightning in her eyes.
War spirit blazing.
—
With a long cry,
She shot forward like lightning.
—
—
Outside Sword Hall,
Shī Tóngbǎi had just led the others to safety.
Suddenly—
A thunderous crash!
A wall collapsed.
Dust billowed.
Two figures burst from the ruins.
Qi clashed.
Separated in an instant.
Facing each other on the outer training ground.
—
He looked closely—
One was Xiǎo Chén.
Skin purple-black.
Eyes burning crimson.
Evil aura surging.
His gaze locked on his foe.
The other—
Xuānyuán Dié,
Eyes alight with excitement.
—
Without pause,
The two clashed again.
Fists and sword light.
Thunder and lightning.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi, near the Meridian Trace,
Barely kept up.
But weaker disciples nearby—
Already reeling, ears ringing, stomachs churning.
—
Moments later—
A dull crash.
Xiǎo Chén slammed into the wall.
Yet rose unharmed.
Eyes crimson, blazing.
—
He roared.
His breath surged—
Forcing upward into the Root Trace threshold!
—
Xuānyuán Dié blinked in surprise.
Then her smile widened—
"Now you're worthy.
Come!"
—
She was about to strike again—
When a thunderous shout split the air—
"You two done yet?
Must you tear down my Àotiān Academy to be satisfied!"
—
The aura had not yet arrived.
But it pressed like ten thousand pounds.
Even in rage,
Xiǎo Chén's body trembled.
Like a beast in the night—
Hearing its predator's roar.
Unseen, yet undeniable.
—
Gǔ Líng stormed in.
Qi surged like a tide.
Stone chips flew.
Air froze.
He landed at the center of the training ground.
—
All disciples halted.
Faces tense.
—
His gaze swept.
Xuānyuán Dié—breath steady, still composed.
Xiǎo Chén—breath chaotic, eyes crimson, mind unclear.
Not provocation.
But an aberration.
—
His brows furrowed.
Qi drew back.
His tone sharpened—
"Xiǎo Dié!
Keep this up—
Three months' stipend docked.
And half a year—no sweets!"
—
Her aura faltered.
She looked at his stern face.
Half her spirit drained.
She sighed inwardly—
Docked pay is fine…
But no sweets for half a year…
How am I supposed to live…
—
She pouted, muttered—
"Ugh… fine…"
—
Gǔ Líng's gaze tightened.
He looked at Xiǎo Chén, still floating.
His heart was not as calm as his face.
—
This aura… evil, yet faintly luminous.
Not wholly external.
If he can master it—
His future… promising.
—
He shook his sleeve.
Turned to leave.
Whispered—
But if it devours him…
It will be a calamity.
—
At his words,
Her aura surged.
She released but one layer of Star Realm perfection.
Qi roared.
Trees swayed.
Dust rose.
—
Not full strength.
Yet like a mountain pressing down.
Her mastery of qi—
Already at will.
—
Xiǎo Chén felt the true pressure.
His face changed.
Cold sweat traced his back.