The sun hung low behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the elite training plateau.
Three senior disciples stood in a loose triangle around Lian Hong, their expressions full of hostility.
They were not assassins.They carried no poison.They did not wear masks.
But their killing intent was real.
Not because they were ordered—
but because they chose to be here.
Because rising stars attract darkness.
And jealousy always arrives before admiration.
Zhou Shan's voice cracked:
"Bro… these three… these are Rank 8, Rank 9, and Rank 10 outer sect elites! Why are they here!? WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO KILL YOU SINCE YESTERDAY—?!"
The leader, a tall disciple named Li Chao, cracked his knuckles.
"You embarrassed too many people."
The second, a thin disciple with a curved dagger, smirked.
"You took too much attention."
The third, a burly hammer-user, spat on the ground.
"And you defeated Chi Yao AND survived Mu Yanting.Which means…"
His eyes narrowed with cold resentment.
"…the elders will look at you instead of us."
Li Chao pointed at Lian Hong.
"You don't belong at the top.You climbed too fast."
He drew his sword.
"We'll break your legs and remind you where your place is."
Zhou Shan shrieked:
"BRO THEY WANT TO BREAK YOUR LEGS—! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG LEGS TAKE TO RECOVER—?!"
Lian Hong exhaled slowly.
He didn't ignite his bloodline.He didn't use afterimages.
He simply said:
"If you're coming, then come."
They moved instantly.
Li Chao dashed forward, sword tip aiming at Lian Hong's throat.
The dagger-user circled left, blade flashing toward the ribs.
The hammer-user leaped forward with a roar, bringing the enormous iron hammer down toward Lian Hong's skull.
Three coordinated attacks.Three killing vectors.Three angles of suppression.
These weren't amateurs.They had fought together before.
Zhou Shan screamed:
"BROOOOO YOU CAN'T TAKE THAT HEAD-ON—!!!"
But Lian Hong didn't dodge backward.
He stepped forward.
Straight toward Li Chao.
Li Chao lunged.
His sword thrust was precise—an elite-level technique.
The moment before impact—
Lian Hong tilted his head one inch.
One.
The sword passed beside his cheek.
Lian Hong's palm struck out.
BAM—!!
Li Chao's wrist shattered.
His sword flew into the air.
Lian Hong caught it.
Turned it.
Then floored Li Chao with the flat of the blade—
THUD—!!
The leader collapsed unconscious.
All in one breath.
Zhou Shan screamed again:
"BRO—YOU JUST DISARMED AND KNOCKED HIM OUT FASTER THAN I BLINKED—!!"
The thin disciple's eyes widened.
He retreated instantly, dropping his original attack plan.
Then his dagger blurred—
Three rapid slashes aimed for Lian Hong's eyes, throat, and wrist.
Fast.Precise.Deadly.
Lian Hong turned the captured sword and deflected all three strikes with minimal motion.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
The dagger-user gasped.
"You— You weren't this fast yesterday!"
Lian Hong's voice was calm.
"I trained."
He swung.
A simple horizontal slash.
Not fancy.
Not flashy.
Perfectly timed.
The dagger-user tried to block—
but the force disarmed him anyway.
His arm went numb.
And Lian Hong's kick buried itself into the man's stomach.
WHUMP—!!
He flew back twelve meters, slammed into a training post, and went limp.
Zhou Shan covered his face.
"Bro… remind me never to make you angry… or to joke about your cooking skills ever again…"
The last disciple roared, veins bulging.
"You think you're better than us!? You think the sect will choose you over senior elites!?"
He swung the massive hammer downward.
It wasn't fast.
It didn't need to be.
One hit could crush stone.
One hit could shatter bones.
The hammer fell like a meteor.
Lian Hong didn't block.
He didn't parry.
He sidestepped—
and the hammer blew a crater where he had stood.
Before the burly disciple could recover—
Lian Hong pressed a palm to his chest.
Not a strike.Not an attack.
Qi disruption.
He sent a controlled pulse through the man's meridians.
The burly disciple froze in shock, his limbs locking.
"W–What… what did you—"
Lian Hong tapped two acupoints on his shoulder.
The man collapsed like a felled ox.
Zhou Shan screamed:
"BRO WHAT KIND OF CULTIVATION ANIME ARE YOU LIVING IN—!? YOU JUST PRESS BUTTONS AND PEOPLE TURN OFF—!!"
All three elite disciples lay on the ground.
Not dead.
Not crippled.
But decisively defeated.
Lian Hong tossed the borrowed sword aside.
He didn't enjoy this.
He didn't hate it.
He simply understood:
Climbing fast means stepping on those who try to pull you down.
He walked past the fallen trio.
But before he left—
a stone cracked behind him.
A voice groaned:
"…this isn't over…"
Li Chao, half-conscious, spat blood.
"You… you made enemies today…"
Lian Hong looked back over his shoulder.
"No."
His voice was quiet.
Controlled.
Deadly calm.
"You made me your enemy."
Li Chao's face twisted with fear.
Zhou Shan gulped.
"Bro… you're starting to sound like Rank 1…"
Far above, on the rooftop of the training hall—
a masked figure crouched in silence.
Watching.
Observing.
Judging.
His breathing was so quiet the wind swallowed it.
His eyes reflected Lian Hong's movements.
Every motion.Every reaction.Every flaw.
He whispered:
"…third-level bloodline activation…instinct-driven footwork…unrefined, but dangerous…"
He stood.
"Killing him will be… interesting."
He vanished into the shadows.
Not a sound.
Not a trace.
Not even a ripple of qi.
Only a lingering whisper remained on the wind:
"Three days."