Gao Han sat cross-legged on the ground and let out a long, steady breath of inner energy; a stream of cold qi shot from his lips, extending three feet through the air. He rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion, sensing the power coursing through his body.
"Right now, my strength is on par with that of a second-layer True Essence cultivator," he murmured to himself. "If I were to fight Lingze again, I could defeat him without pushing my body beyond its limits."
Zheng Kong stared at Gao Han with lingering trepidation. The icy breath had passed just a foot in front of him, reddening his nose with frost. He clamped a hand over his nose and rubbed it furiously until feeling returned. "Brother Han, you're insane!" he exclaimed. As he spoke, he resolved to master the staff techniques from Lingze and his fellow monks, or he would fall hopelessly behind Gao Han.
The Zheng clan possessed no shortage of profound martial arts, but as a military house, its legacy centered on high-killing-power blade and spear arts. Swordsmanship was rare, and staff techniques—an obscure discipline—were limited to just a few low-ranked manuals.
Zheng Kong's talent was far from weak. Had he practiced the clan's Profound-Rank Low-Tier Seven-Step Overlord Spear, he would likely have reached the True Essence realm long ago. But to Zheng Yunqing's frustration, his second son had been obsessed with staff arts since childhood, and the Zheng clan's armory held pitifully few scrolls on the subject. Refusing to rely on the clan forever to find suitable manuals, Zheng Kong had run away from home at seventeen to seek staff techniques on his own.
Three years of wandering had left him with a host of vulgar habits: shouting insults, picking fights, and acting the ruffian. He had learned every manner of crude behavior there was to pick up.
"This morning, I heard you say quite a few people wanted to spar with me," Gao Han remarked calmly, picking up his Steelpoint Sword from the ground beside him.
Zheng Kong caught his meaning at once and grinned. "Sure did! Some Gu clan disciples even swore to cripple your cultivation to avenge their eldest young master."
"The Gu clan?" Gao Han paused. He seemed fated to cross blades with them. He had defeated Gu Yunli and wounded Gu Yunbie at the Misty Sect, and just the previous night, he had injured Gu Yunluan. Half of the four Gu brothers had fallen to his hand—truly a strange twist of fate.
He vaguely recalled meeting another man who bore a striking resemblance to the three brothers, but he could not remember where. Shrugging off the thought, he set off with Zheng Kong toward the Lu clan's tents.
Everyone who saw them along the way reacted in one of two ways: members of the Zheng clan greeted him warmly, while those aligned with the Lu clan fled as if they had seen a ghost. A third group—the Situ clan—regarded him with odd, mixed expressions. As Zheng Kong explained, Gao Han's defeat of Situ Jian had left them both reverent and fearful.
The camp was small, and they reached the Lu faction's quarters in a few short steps. Zheng Kong was determined to make the most of the moment. He slouched his shoulders, squinted one eye, and shouted in a mocking tone, "Halt! This mountain belongs to me—"
Gao Han tapped him on the head. "This is a challenge, not a robbery."
Rubbing his scalp, Zheng Kong resumed. "Whoever was talking trash this morning, show yourselves! Your Master Kong and Master Han are here!"
Several Qi Condensation warriors from the Lu camp stared at him in alarm, unnerved by his antics.
Gao Han had two reasons for coming. First, for all his scolding and rough treatment of Zheng Kong, he was deeply touched by the younger man's unwavering loyalty. Zheng Kong defended him fiercely against any insult, no matter who the offender was, and had stood by him even when he was at his weakest. Though their bond was still light, Zheng Kong was the person he trusted most outside his own family. He would not let his only friend be wronged. Second, his cultivation had just broken through, and he wished to test his newfound strength.
No sooner had Zheng Kong finished shouting than Hu Kai stepped out of his tent, his expression serene rather than angry. "Brother Zheng, Brother Gao! What brings you to my tent? Please, come in!"
Gao Han's expression remained impassive. "No need for courtesies, Brother Hu. I heard you and your men were eager to spar with me. Circumstances kept me away this morning. Now we may begin."
Hu Kai's face darkened with feigned indignation. "Ridiculous! These are nothing but rumors. How could we possibly do something so offensive to you? Do not believe such gossip!"
Gao Han smiled faintly. "Rumor or not, I am in the mood for a duel. Let us begin."
His Steelpoint Sword cleared its sheath. Activating the Phantom Stride, he surged toward Hu Kai in a blur.
Hu Kai realized he had no choice but to fight. No amount of sweet talk would stop an incoming sword. Reluctantly, he channeled his true qi and snapped open his iron fan. Whirling the fan, he sent streams of true qi flying toward Gao Han, who flicked his sword repeatedly, shattering every projectile before it could reach him.
In mere seconds, Gao Han closed the distance, his sword slicing straight for Hu Kai's neck. Hu Kai abandoned his long-range attacks, snapped his fan shut, and stabbed it toward one of Gao Han's vital acupoints.
Gao Han did not alter his sword's path. Instead, he raised his left palm and unleashed the seventh form of the Cold Mountain Palm: Earth-Shaking Might.
Hu Kai watched Gao Han's hand lunging for his fan and threw up his left hand, channeling true qi to block the strike. But the Gao Han of that day was no longer the man he had fought before. The blow shattered Hu Kai's left wrist in an instant. His palm continued forward, knocking the fan off course; it grazed Gao Han's sleeve as Gao Han's sword pressed against Hu Kai's throat.
Agonizing pain shot through Hu Kai's wrist, but the sword at his neck, colder than ice, stilled his cry. Beads of cold sweat rolled down his face and fell onto the Steelpoint Sword, freezing into tiny, glistening crystals at once.
Clap, clap, clap.
A sharp round of applause echoed through the camp. Lu Zhengchun stepped out of his tent, his face dark with fury. "Brother Gao, truly impressive. In two days, you have wounded two of my men."
Gao Han cared nothing for his status as the Third Prince and sneered. "I wondered if you would dare show your face. How about a duel?" He had clearly seen Lu Zhengchun's hand on his sword the previous night, ready to attack, only to back down under Gao Han's intimidating aura. But Gao Han knew the prince's strength surpassed Gu Yunluan and Hu Kai—he was likely on par with Lingze.
Lu Zhengchun smiled coldly. "Since you insist, I cannot refuse. To back down now would make the Ling Kingdom's imperial house seem weak and humiliated. I must win this battle, or everyone will believe they can insult the royal family freely."
His words carried an unspoken threat: defeat me, and you dishonor the entire imperial clan.
Gao Han cared nothing for royal titles. On the Tianwu Continent, strength was the only law. He lowered the sword from Hu Kai's throat, holding it diagonally behind him, its tip touching the ground. "I await your strike."
Lu Zhengchun drew his longsword from its sheath on his back.
Shiiiiing.
The blade glinted like autumn water, radiating a cold, sharp light. Gao Han's eyes narrowed. "An excellent sword."
Zheng Kong nodded solemnly behind him. "Truly a fine sword… a fine bastard sword."
Lu Zhengchun chuckled proudly. "Indeed it is. This is the Tyrant Sword, one of the finest low-tier spiritual weapons in the imperial treasury. It belonged to my imperial uncle, the Eighth Prince Lu Yingba, who wielded it in countless battles. He gifted it to me for protection."
Zheng Kong muttered under his breath, "A fine Tyrant Sword indeed… a bastard's sword. The Eighth Prince is a bastard, and now the Third Prince wields a bastard's sword…"
Lu Zhengchun, oblivious to the insult, mistook it for praise and bowed slightly to Zheng Kong. "Thank you for your kind words."
Lu Zhengchun did not understand the mockery, but Gao Han, who knew Zheng Kong's crude wit perfectly well, did. He had been struggling to hold back his laughter, but when Lu Zhengchun thanked him, he burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained.
Believing Gao Han was mocking his sword, Lu Zhengchun roared, "Insolence!"
The Tyrant Sword pointed straight at Gao Han. He charged forward at breathtaking speed. Gao Han snapped into battle form, his eyes icy and sharp. He shifted his feet and activated the Phantom Stride, darting backward—but only barely faster than Lu Zhengchun.
Gao Han was certain the prince practiced a high-level movement art. Only the Phantom Stride's shadow-based profundities allowed him to keep ahead.
Channeling his inner qi, Gao Han halted his retreat abruptly. He tapped his toe against the ground and launched himself back toward Lu Zhengchun even faster than he had fled. His sword whirled through the air: Frigid River-Sundering Soul-Breaking Sword.
Frost coiled around the Steelpoint Sword, which clashed precisely against the tip of the Tyrant Sword in a flash of white light.
Clang!
The force of the collision sent both men staggering backward. Lu Zhengchun retreated five steps, each leaving a deep footprint in the earth. Gao Han fell back three steps, his feet sinking three inches into the ground with each pace.
Gao Han's eyes widened. Lu Zhengchun's offensive power matched his own. Had they fought in his state from the previous night, the match would have ended in a draw. He was lucky the prince had not dared attack then.
Lu Zhengchun spun and lunged again, the Tyrant Sword wreathed in flickering sword qi. The sharp energy sliced through floating leaves mid-air. Gao Han's lips curved into a faint smile—during his cultivation that day, he had deciphered Lingze's defensive technique, and he intended to test it on Lu Zhengchun.
Infusing his sword with inner qi, Gao Han spun it in a rapid, circular motion, forming a small, shimmering shield. Unlike Lingze's golden barrier, this one was silver, smaller, and wreathed in swirling cold qi.
The Tyrant Sword slammed into the shield with a piercing screech. The two men locked in a stalemate for more than ten seconds. Lu Zhengchun could not break through the defense. He felt the biting cold from the shield seeping into his hand, numbing his grip on the hilt. His strength faltered, and the Tyrant Sword began to spin with the rotating Steelpoint Sword.
Suddenly, the Tyrant Sword was wrenched sideways, pulling Lu Zhengchun off balance. Gao Han ceased spinning his sword and struck forward with his left palm, unleashing Earth-Shaking Might.
Lu Zhengchun's body was tilted awkwardly; he could not use his sword. He poured all his true qi into his palm to meet the attack head-on.
Boom!
Energy exploded outward. Gao Han stepped back once. Lu Zhengchun was sent flying two zhang backward, crashing heavily onto the ground. He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot with rage, his jaw clenched so tight his gums bleed. "You dare injure me?"
Gao Han twirled his sword in a graceful arc, sheathing it with a flash of light. "Why would I not dare? On the Tianwu Continent, strength reigns supreme. You were outmatched, so you were wounded. Must others lose merely because you are of the imperial bloodline?"
Lu Zhengchun ground his teeth. "Very well! Strength rules all! You will regret this!"
He stormed back into his tent, where the sound of smashing and crashing furniture soon followed. Hu Kai had already slunk away in humiliation the moment Lu Zhengchun fell.
The ferocious battle had echoed throughout the entire camp. Everyone had already witnessed Gao Han's power the night before, so they were not overly surprised. What stunned them was his prodigious talent: he had watched Lingze use his circular shield defense only twice, and he had already mastered it.
The words "heavenly prodigy" flashed through Lingze's mind. He was not angered by Gao Han copying the technique; the circular shield was a low-ranked art in the Buddhist Temple, far from secret. Many disciples had died abroad over the years, and the technique had spread widely across the central regions of the Cangnan Continent.
"It is a shame he has already pledged himself to the Misty Sect. Such talent would be a fine addition to our temple," Lingze murmured, shaking his head in regret.
Lu Zhengchun's defeat had been bitterly unfair. Were it not for Gao Han's frigid inner qi freezing his hand, robbing him of his grip, he might well have won. Even shrouded in true qi, his hand had grown so numb he could no longer hold his sword.
Gao Han sheathed his sword and turned to Zheng Kong with a smile. "Well? Are you impressed—"
He trailed off mid-sentence. Zheng Kong was far too busy pestering Lingze.
"Master Lingze! There you are! Wow, your hairstyle is still as handsome as ever—"
Lingze fought the urge to flee and smiled wryly at Gao Han. "Young Hero Gao, wounding two True Essence warriors puts our evening mission in great peril." He did not yet know that Gao Han had also broken Hu Kai's wrist, making the count three.
Gao Han smiled faintly. "Then I shall go with the three reverend brothers alone. How does that sound?"
Zheng Ling objected at once, his face etched with worry. "Would that not be too dangerous? The zombie is ferocious. The three of you alone—"
"Cannot defeat it?" Gao Han cut him off. "Rest assured. If the zombie is only in its early stages, as Brother Lingze says, I can destroy it. If even I cannot stop it, more of us would only be useless casualties."
Zheng Ling still looked skeptical. Gao Han knew he would have to display his power to set his mind at ease.
He drew his Steelpoint Sword once more, gripping it with both hands, his gaze sharpening as he fixed on a practice stake not far away. The stake, carved from thousand-spirit wood, was unnaturally hard—impervious to blades and fists. A Lu clan disciple had found it in a village along the way and intended to bring it back to the imperial city for training. Neither sword qi nor blade strikes from Zheng Ling and the others had left a lasting mark. Gao Han would use it to prove his strength.
He usually wielded his sword with one hand, but now he used both, doubling his striking power at the cost of a little agility. The zombie was not particularly fast, so speed would not be an issue.
"Frigid River-Sundering Soul-Breaking Sword!"
A powerful wave of sword qi erupted from the Steelpoint Sword, streaking toward the stake at lightning speed. The sharp, six-foot-six-long qi, wrapped in bitter cold, slammed violently into the wood.
The point of impact froze solid instantly. A heartbeat later, the frozen wood was pierced three inches deep by the overwhelming force, leaving a thumb-sized hole clean through the stake.
Zheng Ling and the others gaped in astonishment. Gao Han's power had grown noticeably since the previous night. His sword qi had stretched six feet then, the mark of a second-layer True Essence warrior. Now it reached six feet six inches—and every additional inch beyond six feet was nearly impossible to achieve.
Gao Han sheathed his sword and turned to Zheng Ling and Situ Jian, his tone calm. "Is my strength sufficient for your approval, gentlemen?"
The two men exchanged a bitter smile. "Brother Gao, your power fills us with awe. We have no reason to stop you."
They understood Gao Han acted in their best interest. First, the zombie was vicious; they would likely meet a grim end if they joined the hunt. Second, the three leaders of the imperial faction had all been wounded by Gao Han. If they left, the wounded men might lash out at the remaining clan disciples, who were no match for True Essence warriors—except, of course, for a monster like Gao Han.
Lingze and his fellow monks raised no objections. With Gao Han's strength, he alone was worth a dozen ordinary warriors. More fighters would only be a nuisance, unable to harm the zombie in any meaningful way.
It was settled: that night, Gao Han and the three Buddhist Temple monks would hunt the zombie. Gao Han himself did not know how the encounter would end—the zombie was terrifyingly powerful. Yet strangely, he felt no fear. Instead, a faint thrill stirred within him. He could barely wait for night to fall.