Inside the Wind Thunder Pavilion.
Lei Hao returned to the sect with a gloomy expression, followed closely by the elders.
The moment he arrived, he immediately issued an order.
"All elders, assemble in the meeting hall within ten minutes!"
After speaking, Lei Hao turned into a streak of light and sped toward the Sect Master's Hall.
At once, the entire sect fell into turmoil.
Many were curious as to why the Sect Master was so enraged, yet both disciples and elders alike could not help but feel pity for the unfortunate individual who had provoked him.
Of all people to offend, they had chosen the Sect Master himself.
Meanwhile, Lei Hao quickly arrived at the sect's forbidden grounds.
Upon reaching the area, he immediately bowed with utmost reverence.
"The current Sect Master, Lei Hao, pays his respects to the Ancestors."
His voice echoed into the depths of the forbidden grounds, yet no response came.
Seeing this, Lei Hao did not act rashly. Instead, he remained where he was, waiting respectfully.
After a long silence—
The forbidden grounds finally reacted.
Several powerful divine senses surged outward one after another.
"What is it?"
The voice was icy cold, carrying unquestionable authority that caused even Lei Hao's heart to tighten.
He quickly explained his purpose.
"During this trip to capture an auspicious beast, although there were some unexpected incidents, they led me to discover a massive opportunity."
As his words fell, the forbidden grounds remained completely calm, unmoved by the mention of an "opportunity."
Lei Hao was not in a hurry. Instead, he continued, revealing more details.
"This opportunity is entirely different from any known spiritual object on the Tianlan Continent. I dare to speculate that it is highly likely related to 'that existence' from a hundred years ago."
He did not elaborate further, yet the Ancestors within the forbidden grounds immediately understood what he was referring to.
In the next instant—
The forbidden grounds trembled violently.
Even the entire Wind Thunder Pavilion felt the shock.
"What?!!"
"Are you certain?!"
"What exactly is this opportunity?!"
Numerous powerful beings could no longer remain composed, their voices filled with urgency and excitement.
Although Lei Hao felt the pressure bearing down on him, he inwardly sneered.
His goal had been achieved.
Despite his confidence, he still wanted additional assurance—
And that assurance was the sect's true foundation.
"Silence!"
A voice of overwhelming authority suddenly rang out, instantly suppressing all the clamor.
The forbidden grounds fell quiet once more.
Then, the same voice spoke again, deep and solemn.
"Tell us everything you know, word for word."
"Yes, Ancestor!"
Lei Hao bowed deeply before recounting all the information he had regarding Acheron.
When he finished speaking, the forbidden grounds sank into deathly silence.
A moment later, a sinister and chilling voice rang out.
"No matter the cost, we must seize all the secrets she possesses."
Upon receiving the Ancestor's approval, Lei Hao was instantly overjoyed.
It's already within my grasp!
However, before he could celebrate for long—
A sudden explosion resounded from within the sect.
The Sect Master and the Ancestors alike were startled.
A surprise attack? Or something else? Why so sudden?
...
"Who exactly are you?! To think— AHH!!!"
"You dare barge into our Wind Thun— AHH!!!"
Chaos erupted within the Wind Thunder Pavilion like a raging storm.
A purple figure appeared silently, holding a red oil-paper umbrella.
Beneath the umbrella was a peerlessly beautiful face, devoid of emotion—calm, as though untouched by the world.
Her high heels tapped against the ground, producing crisp "da-da" sounds that echoed like a quiet announcement of her arrival.
Acheron's expression remained unchanged, impossible to read.
Yet at this moment, a trace of weariness—like one reminiscing over distant memories—briefly surfaced in her eyes.
It vanished just as quickly.
Now, she no longer had any weaknesses at her side.
Facing the disciples of the Wind Thunder Pavilion who rushed forward to stop her, Acheron no longer held back.
Because they stirred within her a faint, yet deeply rooted sense of disgust.
"Acheron!!!!"
As she walked forward, a thunderous roar erupted from deep within the sect.
Lei Hao and the elders reacted instantly, their figures streaking through the air as they arrived in the blink of an eye.
In an instant, countless figures surrounded Acheron like storm clouds pressing down upon a city, sealing off every possible escape.
Acheron slowly raised her gaze, her eyes calm as still water, sweeping across the encirclement.
To her, this overwhelming force was nothing more than ants attempting to shake a tree—utterly futile.
There was no pressure whatsoever.
"Either way. Dusk's rain...It too shall fall."
"Hmph, you witch! You dare intrude into the Wind Thunder Pavilion alone? Today, we will ensure you never find peace, even in death!"
The crowd roared as countless spells surged toward that lone purple figure.
In response, Acheron remained calm.
The red oil-paper umbrella spun lightly in her hand, blooming like an Equinox Flower. It drifted upward before descending slowly, like a withered leaf.
When the barrage of spells struck its surface, it was as if they had fallen into a bottomless abyss—vanishing without even a ripple.
This horrifying sight caused every elder and disciple to freeze in shock.
Holding the Naught Blade, Acheron stood amidst the raging winds. Her purple hair flowed like a cascading waterfall, lending her an almost serene, jade-like elegance.
Her voice remained flat.
"Do your worse."
Enraged by such blatant provocation, the disciples and elders surged forward all at once.
With so many of them—including numerous Soul Transformation and Nascent Soul experts—how could they fail to subdue a single person?
In an instant, the Wind Thunder Pavilion transformed into an asura battlefield.
Dust surged like waves of ink, while spells rained down like meteors, explosions resounding endlessly.
Yet the purple figure moved like a ghost.
With each casual step, flashes of blade light followed. No one could block her path. Many were reduced to blood mist before they could even scream.
What was most suffocating of all—
From beginning to end, she used only the scabbard.
She had not even drawn her blade.
"Enough! Everyone, stand down."
Just as the situation spiraled out of control, a commanding voice rang out, halting everything.
At once, all disciples and elders ceased their attacks.
Acheron did not pursue them. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the newcomer, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
In the next moment—
Several streaks of light shot out from the forbidden grounds.
The Sect Ancestors had arrived.
Each of them possessed an aura more than ten percent stronger than Lei Hao's.
Clearly, they were all existences beyond the Soul Transformation stage.
Seeing this, Lei Hao—who had felt a trace of unease—finally relaxed.
What thrilled him even more was one crucial detail.
The leading Ancestor was the very one who had spoken earlier.
And his aura had surpassed the Mahayana Stage—
Reaching the Tribulation Transcendence Realm.
Lei Hao, who knew the sect's foundation well, did not believe this breakthrough had been achieved through talent alone.
Connecting everything, he instantly understood why such a strict order had been given.
A hundred years was far too short for a new Tribulation Transcendence expert to emerge naturally on the Tianlan Continent.
Once such a figure appeared, the outcome was already decided.
The gazes of everyone in the Wind Thunder Pavilion converged upon Acheron—
As though looking at a dead woman.
"Your strength is commendable, but trespassing into my Wind Thunder Pavilion is an unforgivable sin.
If you hand over that blade now, I may grant you a swift death."
The Ancestor stepped forward, shattering the void as he arrived. Lightning coiled around him like dragons, his voice resonating like a great bell, yet laced with icy arrogance.
Countless Mahayana and Soul Transformation experts—
And even a Tribulation Transcendence existence.
The disparity between the two sides was obvious at a glance.
Yet from beginning to end, Acheron ignored his words.
Her gaze remained fixed on him, as though lost in thought.
Finally—
Acheron seemed to understand something.
And let out a faint, regretful sigh.