The Gang Yuan Realm was divided into three sub-realms: White Mist, Jade Liquid, and Core Formation.
Each step was a chasm.
Among them, Core Formation stood just beneath the Heavenly Human Realm. At that level, one could briefly ride Gang Qi through the air—a power that already touched the boundary of the extraordinary.
Even Ning Qi did not believe himself capable of crossing so many realms to challenge a Core Formation expert.
He was not that arrogant.
Luo Wentian's expression was grave.
"There are no coincidences in this world," he said slowly. "This matter is absolutely connected to the Purple River Sword Sect."
"Ever since Master entered seclusion, rumors have spread throughout the martial world. Some say he is gravely injured and near death. Others claim our sect holds an ultimate inheritance."
He paused.
"The Iron Ridge Three Fiends' night raid was likely encouraged by those rumors."
A chill ran through the crowd.
If such rumors were believed, then the True Martial Sect would appear as a piece of fat meat—tempting to anyone willing to gamble. The Iron Ridge Three Fiends may only have been a probe.
"Then what do we do?" someone asked.
"We defend," Luo Wentian replied without hesitation. "Seal Zhenwu Mountain. Do not allow petty figures to disturb Master's cultivation."
"Once Master emerges, everything resolves itself."
His gaze hardened.
"Recall all disciples currently training outside."
"From today onward, Zhenwu Mountain is sealed. No one enters or leaves without permission."
Silence—then unity.
"Yes!"
Every voice carried resolve.
All disciples of the True Martial Sect knew the truth.
Dragon Mountain Daoist was not injured.
He was in death seclusion, breaking through the Heavenly Human bottleneck.
Once he succeeded, the sect would possess a Heavenly Human expert—and all threats would vanish like mist.
Ning Qi remained calm.
He did not need to join open patrols. If a Gang Yuan expert truly invaded again, that would be his moment to act.
But realistically, the fate of the Iron Ridge Three Fiends was already enough of a warning. Those coveting the sect's inheritance would likely hesitate.
The True Martial Sect entered a state of total alert.
Patrols multiplied tenfold.Disciples returned one after another.
With nearly a thousand disciples stationed on Zhenwu Mountain, and Jiang Baishan—an open White Mist Realm expert—standing at the forefront, few dared act recklessly.
There were still attempts.
Thieves tried to sneak up the mountain, only to be detected and killed.
One White Mist Realm expert concealed his identity and tested the defenses, but Jiang Baishan personally drove him back.
What no one knew—
Was that Ning Qi killed him quietly afterward.
This time, however, there were no treasures like the Overlord Tiger True Intent Diagram. Only a weapon and a few pills. After identifying them, Ning Qi casually stored them away.
Time flowed.
Months passed.
After the initial probing failed, outsiders finally accepted reality: the True Martial Sect was not to be trifled with.
Jiang Baishan's reputation grew.
Meanwhile, Luo Wentian deliberately spread word that Dragon Mountain Daoist was on the verge of breaking through to the Heavenly Human Realm.
Many believed it.
That belief was forged by blood and blades.
During this period, Ning Qi intervened only twice—silently intercepting two Gang Yuan Realm intruders.
Otherwise, he remained unseen.
By the final month, no one dared approach Zhenwu Mountain.
The disturbance had settled.
Only then did Ning Qi relax.
Inside the Seeking Dao Courtyard.
Ning Qi sensed the Inner Strength within his body, newly harmonized with flesh and bone. His gaze flickered.
Half a month ago, he had already been capable of performing the seventh feigned death. But with the sect unsettled, he had delayed.
Now, the danger had passed.
"Heavenly Born," Ning Qi said calmly, "if anything happens in the sect, wake me immediately."
The feigned death state could not be forcibly interrupted without wasting months of accumulation—but compared to his senior brothers and sisters, time meant little.
"Yes, Teacher."
The reply was low and respectful.
It was the White Ape.
At some point, faint golden edges had appeared at the corners of its eyes, lending it a strange, sacred presence. A few days earlier, it had completed organ refinement and mastered ventriloquism.
It could now speak.
Ning Qi nodded.
Then he closed the door.
The seventh feigned death—he knew it well.
As the breathing inside faded, determination hardened in the White Ape's gaze. It had witnessed the recent turmoil and felt its own inadequacy.
That frustration became resolve.
He would cultivate harder.
He practiced the Ape King Stance.
The stance had already diverged from Ning Qi's original creation, gradually reshaped to better suit the ape's own body and instincts.
His progress was astonishing.
Half a month later.
Ning Qi opened his eyes.
Feeling the strengthened body and the dense, flawless Inner Strength within, a spark of satisfaction surfaced.
"Eightfold Inner Yuan."
"And now… my Inner Strength extends ten zhang."
This was shocking.
A perfected Inner Yuan martial artist could usually extend Inner Strength only one zhang.
Ning Qi—at the eighth fold—had reached ten.
Once he perfected the realm, the result would be terrifying.
"If I met Flying Sky Eagle again now," Ning Qi mused, "it would be effortless."
"Even if Inner Strength cannot fully leave the body, ten zhang at close range would be enough to kill instantly."
He was pleased.
More than that—
He sensed something new.
The eighth-fold foundation was unusually stable. This feigned death might bring unexpected gains.
"Heavenly Born," he asked, "nothing happened during my seclusion?"
The White Ape bowed.
"Reporting to Teacher. The sect remains peaceful."
"Good."
Ning Qi smiled faintly.
"This breakthrough may allow me to finally see clearly what lies within your body."
"Shall we try?"
The White Ape froze.
Then his body trembled.
He closed his eyes, as if facing death.
"Teacher," he said firmly, "please proceed."