The Lu clan, the imperial house of the Ling Kingdom, stood as the undisputed ruler of the realm. Only the Zheng faction could rival its power; even the Sword clan, widely regarded as the most formidable noble house in the kingdom, deferred to the imperial family. The Duan clan, meanwhile, had faded into obscurity, shrouded in too much mystery to command widespread attention. What the Lu clan took greatest pride in, however, was its eldest prince, Lu Zhengming. At merely twenty-five years of age, he had already reached the Eighth Layer of the True Essence Realm—a feat that left all who heard it in awe.
Prodigious talents were not rare across the Tianwu Continent, but the Cangnan Region suffered from a dire scarcity of spiritual energy, ranking among the weakest in the greater Cang Domain. Within Cangnan, fewer than a hundred warriors could break through to the Sixth Layer of True Essence by the age of twenty-nine—a pitiful number when set against the region's hundreds of millions of inhabitants. Within the Ling Kingdom, only Jian Jingfeng possessed a natural gift that surpassed Lu Zhengming's. Jian Jingfeng had broken into the True Essence Realm at seventeen, a mere two years later than the legendary Sword God Shan Yu, the most gifted cultivator in Cangnan's history. By twenty-three, he had reached the Seventh Layer of True Essence; now, at twenty-eight, he was said to be on the verge of breaking through to the Spirit Fusion Realm, placing him among the Four Great Young Masters of Cangnan.
To be ranked among Cangnan's young prodigies, one had to be under thirty-five and stand at the very peak of the younger generation's cultivation. That Jian Jingfeng had claimed a place among the Four Great Masters at such a young age spoke volumes of his extraordinary talent. Yet his records might well be broken by Gao Han.
Leading the Lu clan's party this time was the Third Prince, Lu Zhengchun, a True Essence expert. A contingent of cavalry approached rapidly, and in the blink of an eye, the imposing formation halted before the gathered crowd. A refined young man rode forward, his demeanor elegant and poised, like a scholar-artist rather than a warrior. "My lords, I thank you for your patience. My apologies for my delay."
The warriors of the four great clans urged their horses forward and bowed respectfully from their saddles. "Your Highness is too kind. It is our honor to await you." Though the Zheng clan secretly opposed the imperial house, they maintained perfect deference in public. The imperial court was content with this pretense, for the two factions were evenly matched. Open war would spell the ruin of the Ling Kingdom, leaving the Lu clan as subjects of a vanquished realm—rival powers such as the Wu and Yuan kingdoms watched hungrily for any sign of weakness.
Lu Zhengchun smiled warmly and motioned for them to rise, but his gaze suddenly fell upon a figure standing rigid and unbowed, straight and unyielding as a pine tree that would never bend to any authority. It was Gao Han.
The prince's gentle expression flickered for a moment, then returned to its usual composure. "Rise, all of you. We are comrades-in-arms; there is no need for such formality. Might I ask which clan this young brother belongs to?" Once the others had straightened, Lu Zhengchun pointed toward Gao Han and inquired of the group.
Gao Han disliked being pointed at and his face turned cold. "I am with the Zheng clan. What business have you with me?"
Though Lu Zhengchun was deeply scheming as a prince of the realm, he could not abide such open disrespect. His brow furrowed. A young man in black beside him, quick to curry favor, stepped forward at once. "Insolence! You dare not bow to His Highness? Do you court death?"
His blatant flattery soured Zheng Ling's expression. Everyone could see that Gao Han was an honored guest of the Zheng clan; for this man to threaten him so publicly was a direct insult to the clan. His voice turned icy. "When did Ma Lin gain the authority to pronounce judgment on a distinguished guest of the Zheng clan in the imperial family's name? Is this the will of the throne, or merely your own?"
The other clans' warriors sensed the tension rising. What had begun as a rebuke to Gao Han had escalated into an accusation that the imperial court intended to move against the Zheng clan. Lu Zhengchun's face paled—not with anger, but with terror. If this single exchange sparked open conflict between the Zheng and Lu clans, he would be held responsible. His father, the emperor, would execute him long before Zheng Ling. He had far too many sons to mourn one. Lu Zhengchun's hatred for Ma Lin burned white-hot. Why had the fool intervened?
He silently begged Ma Lin to fall silent, but fate was against him. Ma Lin's hot-headed arrogance flared unchecked. "This wretch has insulted the Third Prince! His Highness commands that he kowtow in apology, shout three times 'I have wronged you,' then flee the imperial city. Only then will he be spared."
Lu Zhengchun pressed a hand to his forehead, wiping cold sweat from his brow as he cursed inwardly. The idiot had sealed the blame firmly upon him. There was no escaping it now.
Zheng Kong stepped forward in outrage, but Gao Han held out a hand to stop him. His expression was frosty beyond measure. "You demand I kneel and beg forgiveness? Prove you have the strength to force me. Defeat me, and I shall do as you say. If I win, you leave the imperial city and never return."
Ma Lin was reckless to the point of foolishness. "Done! I shall cripple this Zheng clan lapdog in the name of the Third Prince and His Majesty the Emperor!"
Lu Zhengchun's fury boiled over. He could barely restrain himself from tearing Ma Lin limb from limb. He wondered bitterly if this was a plot by his rival brothers to destroy him.
In truth, Lu Zhengchun misjudged his siblings. Ma Lin was simply a brute by nature, gifted with unparalleled skill with throwing daggers, earning him the nickname "The Madman." He was widely hailed as the strongest warrior beneath the True Essence Realm in the imperial city. Emperor Lu Yingjie had specifically ordered him to join the mission for his combat prowess. Not even the emperor could have foreseen his reckless folly.
"I do not kill nameless worms. Though the Zheng clan coddles you, I do not even know your name," Ma Lin sneered, leaping from his horse.
Gao Han's face was cold enough to frost over. "For those words, you will die. The dead need not know my name. To your death!"
His sword sang as it cleared its sheath, radiating cold light. Gao Han activated the Phantom Stride and lunged forward at breathtaking speed. Though some distance separated them, Ma Lin was no empty braggart.
Without drawing a visible dagger, he flicked his hands forward twice in quick succession. Two streaks of cold light hurtled toward Gao Han. Unprepared for the ranged assault, Gao Han halted his charge, spinning his sword to knock the projectiles aside.
"Daggers?" It was Gao Han's first time facing a dagger-wielding opponent. Among Qi Condensation warriors, ranged weapons such as daggers and hidden projectiles were the most dangerous, for they allowed attacks from afar without reaching the True Essence Realm.
Gao Han chose to familiarize himself with this style of combat, using only forty percent of his inner qi. Yet his exquisite techniques and peerless lightness skill placed Ma Lin under immense pressure.
Daggers flew endlessly toward Gao Han, who dodged what he could and deflected the rest with his sword. As time wore on, Ma Lin's weakness revealed itself: he had thrown his daggers too freely, and his supply was nearly exhausted.
Gao Han sensed this, seeing the embarrassment on Ma Lin's face and the thinning barrage of projectiles. "If that is all you have, then my turn comes," he declared. He activated the Phantom Stride once more, charging toward Ma Lin like a speeding blade.
Ma Lin panicked. "I have one final technique! Wait!" Gao Han, curious to see the full extent of dagger combat, slowed his advance.
Zheng Kong shouted from the side: "Brother Han, be careful! His ultimate move is despicable! I've fallen for it before!"
Before Gao Han could react, Ma Lin roared, "Whirling Dagger Barrage!" His hands moved in a blur, launching more than thirty daggers in rapid succession. The last five were thrown with a subtle shift in motion. The cloud of projectiles closed in on Gao Han, yet five of them flew far wide of his position, as if thrown in error.
Gao Han knew that such strangeness concealed danger. He spun his sword to shatter the oncoming daggers, his attention fixed on the five wayward ones.
He knocked aside all twenty-odd direct attacks, and the five stray daggers sailed past him. He saw nothing unusual—until a sharp warning came from Zheng Kong. "Look out!"
A jolt of danger shot through Gao Han's soul. He spun around to see the five daggers curving back toward him, now only two zhang away.
In a panic, Gao Han unleashed his full power, channeling one hundred percent of his inner qi into his sword. He struck three of the daggers, sending them flying back to embed themselves in the city wall. With his right hand occupied, he shifted his sword to his left and executed the Left-Handed Sword style, slapping the remaining two to the ground.
The danger passed, and Gao Han broke into a cold sweat. He had not imagined dagger techniques at the Qi Condensation Realm could reach such heights. No wonder the man was called the strongest beneath True Essence. A single misstep would have left him dead.
Ma Lin had been certain his trap would succeed, but Gao Han's escape left him feeling as if he had swallowed a fly.
The Third Prince let out a quiet sigh of relief. Had Gao Han died, open war between the clans would have been inevitable, costing him his life. His hatred for Ma Lin deepened. "Ma Lin, you have lost. Leave the imperial city at once and never set foot within its walls again." He turned to a personal guard behind him. "You will take his place in our mission to the Eternal Plain Valley."
With the incident resolved, the other clan warriors now understood Gao Han's fearsome strength. The leaders of each faction marked him as someone to watch closely.
The massive procession set off for the Eternal Plain Valley. No bandits dared to trouble such a formidable group, making the journey far more peaceful than Gao Han's previous travels.
Three days later, the party halted before a small village still far from their destination. Zheng Ling rode forward, channeling true qi into a thunderous shout. "Is anyone there?" The cry boomed like spring thunder, yet no response came from within.
Lu Zhengchun frowned. "Let us enter." The group rode into the village, only for Situ Yan, the most timid among them, to let out a shrill scream at the sight that greeted them.
Hu Kai, Gu Yunluan, and the other noble heirs retched violently. Only Situ Jian, Lu Zhengchun, Gao Han, and Zheng Ling remained composed. Every villager lay dead, their bodies strewn across the streets in twisted death poses. Some had lost their heads entirely; others had only half a skull remaining. Wild beasts feasted on the corpses. Strangely, the intact bodies were completely drained of blood, as if every drop had been sucked dry.
Zheng Ling's eyes blazed with rage. "Fiends! I will slaughter every last one of them!"
Gao Han spoke gravely. "This is odd. If demonic beasts killed these people, why leave their bodies uneaten? What purpose could their deaths serve?"
"Whatever their motive, they must die," Zheng Ling said, fighting to contain his fury.
Ignoring the other clans' protests, Zheng Ling gathered the corpses and set them ablaze. The dead deserved peace, he said, not to rot in the wilds.
Gao Han shook his head slightly. Though he approved of the act, he disagreed with the sentiment. Justice did not exist in this world. If it did, some would not be born with powerful physiques while others were fated to never walk the path of martial arts, no matter how hard they trained.
After an afternoon of solemn work, the group set off again. The mood had turned grave, the lighthearted air replaced by heavy silence.
They passed several more villages, each one entirely slaughtered, not a single soul left alive.
With each village they came upon, Gao Han grew more impressed with Zheng Ling, who insisted on cremating the dead every single time.
It was easy to do a good deed once. It was admirable to keep doing it, even when others saw it as foolishness.
That night, the party set up tents beside the road and lit campfires. Gao Han was startled to see the clan heirs pull out tents from storage rings—even the lowest-grade rings were priceless treasures. Only clan heads in small families like the Gao clan could possess one.
Storage rings were rare and miraculous artifacts, holding a separate space within. Even the lowest-grade ones contained dozens of cubic meters of space, far beyond the means of ordinary True Essence warriors.
The firelight painted the group's faces red. Gao Han alone sat in quiet meditation ten zhang away in the darkness, disappointing Situ Yan, who had planned to tease him. The night remained bitterly cold, and the horrors of the villages had left her terrified of the dark.
Zheng Ling spoke grimly by the fire. "We will reach the Eternal Plain Valley in two days. We must destroy these beasts that prey on ordinary people."
No one replied. Lu Zhengchun changed the subject. "Let us first survive the night. Who stands watch tonight?" Each evening, five warriors took guard duty, one from each clan.
Gao Han's voice carried from the darkness. "I shall stand watch for the Zheng clan." He fell silent once more. Situ Yan muttered inwardly: So he isn't mute after all.
Lu Zhengchun glanced toward Gao Han and nodded. "You shall stand for the Lu clan," he said to his guard. The roster was set: a Ninth Layer Qi Condensation warrior from the Hu clan, another from the Gu clan, and Situ Jian of the Situ clan, a True Essence expert.
A True Essence warrior was required each night to ensure safety.
As time passed, the others retired to their tents, leaving only the sentries. Situ Jian had long wished to speak with Gao Han privately. His sister Situ Yan had stared at Gao Han constantly these past days, cursing him under her breath. He suspected she had grown fond of him and wished to judge Gao Han's character. A genius brother-in-law would be a fine match, especially one so handsome.
But Gao Han remained in the darkness, meditating. Situ Jian dared not disturb him, fearing he might trigger a cultivation deviation. The moon hung round and large over the Tianwu Continent, a silvery disk bathing the land in cold, pale light, lending the night an eerie stillness.
A blood-curdling howl suddenly echoed from the distant mountains—a sound neither fully wolf nor tiger, deeply unsettling. Gao Han's eyes snapped open at once. "I will investigate. Tell the others if they wake." Situ Jian nodded. Gao Han activated the Phantom Stride and darted toward the mountains.
The cry roused the sleeping warriors. Zheng Ling and Lu Zhengchun emerged first; neither had slept, both meditating through the night. They exchanged a glance and nodded. Situ Jian approached Zheng Ling and gestured toward Lu Zhengchun. "Gao Han has gone after the source."
Gao Han raced to the foot of the mountain, where the ground was soaked in fresh blood, the stench thick and cloying. He drew his sword and gripped it tightly, climbing step by step toward the summit. He found nothing amiss along the path but pools of blood. Puzzled, he glanced upward—and froze.
A human figure stood on a nearby ridge, its back turned to the moonlight, its features obscured. But one detail blazed with terrifying clarity: its eyes were crimson, glowing with a blood-chilling red light.