In the main hall of the Zheng residence, Gao Han, Zheng Yunqing, and Zheng Ling took their seats in order of precedence. Zheng Kong, still recovering from his injuries, had been carried back to his chambers to rest. Upon seeing Zheng Kong's wounds, Zheng Yunqing had been seized by rage; he struck a stone statue at the entrance, reducing it to powder, and roared to the heavens, "Who has done this?" Fire blazed in his eyes as he unleashed his cultivation, genuine essence exploding outward in over a hundred streams that pierced the stone floor like a sieve.
Zheng Ling recounted every detail of what had transpired. When Zheng Yunqing learned that the culprits had already been disciplined by Gao Han, his fury lingered but he managed to regain control of his emotions. He then invited Gao Han to discuss the mission in the main hall.
Sensing the True Essence rippling from Gao Han, Zheng Yunqing stared at him in stunned disbelief. Just a short time ago, the boy had been at the early peak of Qi Condensation—and now he had broken into the True Essence realm?
Though Gao Han was now a True Essence cultivator, Zheng Yunqing himself was an eighth-layer True Essence expert, and he quickly composed himself to address the matter at hand. "Zheng Ling, why have you returned so soon from this mission? What did you gain during your journey?"
Zheng Ling's mouth twisted bitterly. There had been no gains to speak of; they had nearly lost a prodigy like Gao Han. He laid out the entire sequence of events, from start to finish, leaving nothing out—including the moment Gao Han, still at the Qi Condensation realm, had repelled Situ Jian with a single sword strike.
Zheng Yunqing's expression shifted with every word, and his regard for Gao Han deepened with each astonishing detail.
"You said some villagers were killed, yet their bodies showed no unusual signs?" Zheng Yunqing's face turned grave once Zheng Ling finished. Though confused by his father's fixation on this detail, Zheng Ling nodded firmly.
Zheng Yunqing let out a long breath, his features heavy with solemnity. "From what you have described, the creature you encountered was no ordinary zombie." Pausing to glance at the shock on their faces, he continued, "It must have been a legendary zombie—a Martial Zombie."
"A Martial Zombie?" Gao Han inhaled sharply. Zheng Ling, however, was utterly bewildered. "A Martial Zombie? What is that, and how does it differ from a normal zombie?"
Before Zheng Yunqing could explain, Gao Han spoke in a cold, crisp tone. "A Martial Zombie is formed when a warrior's soul loses control of its body, or is extinguished entirely, by some unnatural cause. An ordinary zombie arises from the lingering resentment of the dead, driven only by the urge to feast on blood and avenge itself."
Zheng Yunqing looked at Gao Han in surprise. Few young cultivators bothered with such arcane knowledge; most focused solely on raising their cultivation. He himself had only learned of Martial Zombies from his own father, Zheng Mufeng.
"What is the real difference between them?" Zheng Ling still could not fathom what set the two undead apart.
Zheng Yunqing smiled faintly. "A zombie is ageless and undying, fueled by resentment and sustained by blood. Anyone bitten by one will turn into a zombie themselves if the poison is not purged in time."
Zheng Ling gaped. "That sounds… incredible. Ageless and immortal—no warrior has ever achieved such a state, no matter their realm. Even the strongest cultivators die if they fail to break through in time."
On the Tianwu Continent, ordinary humans lived at most eighty years. Peak Qi Condensation warriors reached one hundred; those who did not advance further perished. Third-layer True Essence experts lived to one hundred and twenty, sixth-layer to one hundred and sixty, and peak True Essence to two hundred.
Zheng Ling's envy was plain, but Zheng Yunqing was quick to temper his fascination. "For all their immortality, zombies can never grow stronger. They are mindless beasts of slaughter. And every hundred years, heaven sends down lightning tribulation to reduce such evil to ash."
Zheng Ling paled as he listened, slumping back into his chair. "So zombies are truly terrifying after all."
"No," a deep, aged voice cut through the conversation, as if the speaker had materialized from thin air at the center of the hall.
"Father!" "Grandfather!"
Zheng Yunqing and Zheng Ling bowed in unison. Gao Han's heart jolted—he knew at once who this was. He bowed slightly. "Gao Han of the Misty Sect greets the senior."
This was none other than the Zheng clan's ancestral elder, Zheng Mufeng.
Zheng Mufeng smiled serenely. "Rise. I have heard much of you from Zheng Qing. You truly are a young hero—reaching the True Essence realm at only sixteen."
"You flatter me, senior." Gao Han remained humble even under the praise of a Spirit Fusion expert. Zheng Mufeng nodded approvingly. This youth was worth nurturing.
He returned to the earlier subject. "Zombies are ferocious, but the most terrifying undead is still the Martial Zombie." Taking the main seat, he surveyed the room and spoke in a weighty tone. "A Martial Zombie is ageless and undying, and only warriors may become one. Every Martial Zombie is a supreme body-refining expert. Though they too face lightning tribulation every century, they have a chance to survive it. More importantly, they can cultivate and grow stronger. Once they reach a sufficient level, they gain intelligence comparable to humans—and that is only at the Spirit Fusion realm. Legend tells that those who reach the Transcendent Realm may even regain their past memories. Their only flaw is that their cultivation advances at a glacial pace, and every breakthrough invites a deadly lightning tribulation."
Zheng Ling was left speechless by the revelation, muttering absently, "So Martial Zombies are the most powerful beings in the world."
Gao Han shook his head in disagreement. "For all their power, the martial path cannot be cheated."
"Excellent," Zheng Mufeng said, growing fonder of Gao Han by the moment. "Enough of such speculation. I shall take the liberty of calling you Han'er. Tell me—what happened after you defeated the creature?"
Gao Han could not reveal his secrets. He fabricated a tale: after slaying the Martial Zombie, he had found a Spirit-Gathering Herb and consumed it. To his surprise, the herb had triggered a breakthrough, and he had risked it all to advance successfully.
"Ah, a Spirit-Gathering Herb," Zheng Mufeng murmured, disappointment crossing his face. "To think such a herb grew in that remote region. Yet where a Spirit-Gathering Herb takes root, no other spiritual herbs can grow."
The Spirit-Gathering Herb was a miraculous plant that greedily absorbed surrounding spiritual energy from the moment it sprouted, storing massive amounts within itself. Even True Essence cultivators treasured it. But its domineering nature drained all spiritual energy from a ten-li radius, leaving no room for other spiritual herbs to grow.
Zheng Mufeng sighed inwardly. With such a herb, the Zheng clan could have nurtured another Spirit Fusion expert and drawn closer to rivaling the royal clan. But since Gao Han had already consumed it, there was nothing more to be said.
"Very well. We have still gained much from this ordeal. Zheng Ling, tell the servants to prepare a feast—we shall celebrate!"
Zheng Yunqing also felt a twinge of regret, but Gao Han was now allied with the clan. The herb had not fallen into enemy hands, especially not those of the royal clan, which would have dealt them a severe blow.
While the Zheng clan prepared for a joyous feast, the Gu residence was shrouded in tension. A powerful aura slammed into the main hall's floor, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone.
"Who has hurt my son this badly?"
A burly middle-aged man stood in the center of the hall, his face thick with muscle, standing eight chi tall. This was Gu Ang, clan leader of the Gus—a peak eighth-layer True Essence expert.
He had been relaxing with his new concubine in his chambers when word arrived that his son had returned. Eager to see what treasures Gu Yunluan had brought back from Hengyuan Valley, he had suppressed his desire and hurried outside.
The servant leading the way had trembled nervously, hesitating to speak, but Gu Ang had been too focused on thoughts of treasure to notice.
When he saw Gu Yunluan, however, rage consumed him. His son lay on a stretcher, pale and unconscious. Gu Ang rushed forward, seized his wrist, and channeled genuine essence into his body. One-third of Gu Yunluan's meridians were frozen solid, and several were ruptured.
Roaring with fury, he kicked the servant to pieces. He ordered his son carried to his bedchamber, where he forced out the frost energy and mended the damaged meridians, easing Gu Yunluan's condition.
Gu Ang called over a clansman who had accompanied the party and learned the truth. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. "Gao Han!"
He rose to his feet. "Gu Hua, Gu Qing—assemble the guard. We go to the Zheng clan to demand justice!" He strode out of the room.
"Yes, clan leader!"
Two men in their thirties hurried off to issue the order. Gu Ang stood at the gate, snarling, "Gao Han, I will see you dead."
A quarter of an hour later, fifty warriors stood in formation before the Zheng residence. Every one of them radiated True Essence cultivation: twenty-five at the first layer, fifteen at the second, and ten at the third. At the front stood Gu Hua and Gu Qing, both peak third-layer True Essence experts.
Gu Ang's brow furrowed. "Where is the clan's captain? Why are there no experts above the fourth layer?"
Gu Hua stepped forward. "Lord, the captains are away on a mission."
"What mission? I was not informed."
"An order from the ancestral elder, my lord. We know nothing more."
Gu Ang cursed inwardly. That old fool had sent the clan's elite without consulting him. If he had not yet broken through, he would have killed him long ago.
He snorted and shouted, "Move out!" Leading the procession, he marched toward the Zheng residence.
Inside the Zheng main hall, a feast was underway, laden with rare delicacies. More than a dozen guests were present. After the initial introductions, Zheng Yunqing had left the young people to their own company.
Only now did Gao Han grasp the true power of a great clan. Among those gathered, the strongest was Zheng Peng, a twenty-year-old peak second-layer True Essence expert, highly valued by the clan for his talent. He had mastered the third stage of the Soaring Triple Strike and was the son of Zheng Mufeng's younger brother, Zheng Muyun. All those present were under twenty-five and True Essence cultivators—an elite core that the Gao clan could never match.
Though the Gao clan boasted a Spirit Fusion expert, it was not ranked an eight-star clan largely because of its weak middle tier. The Gao clan had barely twenty True Essence experts in total, most below the third layer, with only two fourth-layer elders. Gao Han's father, Gao Jianfeng, was the sole exception, thanks to his extraordinary talent.
Wine cups were raised in toast. Though Gao Han disliked such gatherings, he could not refuse the hospitality of his hosts. He reluctantly drank several cups.
In the midst of the merriment, a deafening crash erupted at the gate, followed by a thunderous roar. "Gao Han, you brat! Come out and die!"
The guests at the table stared outside in shock. Gao Han calmly lifted his wine cup and took a small sip. "Fine wine. A pity I cannot finish it."
He set down the cup, grabbed his Steelpoint Sword, and walked out of the hall. Zheng Yunqing had moved even faster—a guard had alerted him the moment Gu Ang's party arrived. By the time Gao Han reached the gate, the Zheng warriors were assembling, and Zheng Yunqing was already confronting Gu Ang.
"Lord Gu, to storm into my residence and shout insults—what is the meaning of this?" Zheng Yunqing asked, feigning ignorance, though he knew full well why the Gu leader had come.
Gu Ang snorted. "Lord Zheng, do not play dumb. Hand over the one who injured my son!"
"Your son was injured?" Zheng Yunqing's expression turned cold. "Did you know my son Zheng Kong was also wounded? I have been seeking to avenge him as well."
Gu Ang had already heard the full story from his men and laughed coldly. "Weakness is no excuse for vengeance."
Zheng Yunqing flew into a rage, but Gao Han stepped forward, blocking him.
His voice icy and calm, Gao Han said, "Lord Gu, you speak of weakness as no excuse. If your son was defeated because he was weaker, why do you seek to blame others?"
"Insolence! What gives you the right to speak while I converse with your clan leader?" Gu Ang's fury erupted as he struck out with a palm. Before the blow even landed, its wind sliced at Gao Han's face like tiny blades.
Daring not to underestimate the attack, Gao Han activated Phantom Stride and leaped backward. He evaded the palm strike, but the aftershock was still beyond his current ability to withstand.
"High Mountain, Flowing Stream!"
Waves of powerful genuine essence crashed forward, shattering the palm wind and surging toward Gu Ang. Gu Ang was mildly surprised. Though his strike had been casual, it would have wounded an ordinary second-layer True Essence expert. Yet this boy, only at the first layer, had dodged and counterattacked.
Gu Ang's face darkened as he flicked his sleeve, dispersing Gao Han's essence. To his shock, a thin layer of ice had formed on his sleeve where he had blocked the attack. His eyes narrowed, and killing intent radiated from him. "You are Gao Han."
Gao Han stared back in alarm. An eighth-layer True Essence expert was overwhelmingly powerful—far beyond his current means to fight. He cursed his lack of a proper weapon and a high-grade sword art. With a superior technique, he could not win, but he could escape. As it stood, he still relied on the Spirit-Sundering Sword Art he had learned early on; only his movement and palm techniques were high-grade Mortal-Rank or above.
Meeting Gu Ang's gaze, Gao Han stood tall, frost energy swirling around him to resist the killing intent. "I am."
That Gao Han could withstand his aura shocked both Gu Ang and Zheng Yunqing. Gu Ang's killing intent had been forged on the battlefield, stained with the blood of hundreds of enemies. Even third-layer True Essence experts would lose their composure under its weight—but Gao Han had stood firm.
Gu Ang's voice turned icy. "A prodigy indeed. But you will die here today."
Zheng Yunqing could endure no more, his own killing intent flaring. "He will not die on this day."
"Is that so?"
In the blink of an eye, Gu Ang vanished from sight. A leg swept toward Gao Han, who felt as if he were trapped in a boundless sea of clouds with nowhere to run.
Gao Han drew his Steelpoint Sword and whispered, "Thousand Searches."
His body flowed like water, weaving through the attack as if finding a hidden path.
Clang!
Gao Han's sword sliced through Gu Ang's robe, stopping a hair's breadth from his leg. No matter how hard Gao Han pushed, the blade would not advance; his frost energy could not penetrate further.
"Body-protecting genuine essence!" Gao Han's heart sank. From the sixth layer onward, True Essence experts could manifest a defensive aura around themselves, making them far more powerful than those in lower layers. Breaking through it required at least twice the destructive power. Fourth to sixth-layer experts could also shape their essence into forms, though some special techniques granted this ability earlier.
"Gu Ang!" Zheng Yunqing's face twisted with anger. His opponent had attacked without finishing their conversation. If Gao Han had been struck down, it would have been a grave humiliation.
Zheng Yunqing appeared before Gu Ang in an instant, his palms charged with the murderous aura of a battlefield commander. Even Gao Han, standing outside the range of the strike, felt as if he were surrounded by a thousand armored soldiers charging toward him.
This was the Zheng clan's exclusive palm art, the Heaven-Battling Formula—a Mystic-Rank low-tier technique, alongside the Seven-Step Overlord Spear. Only the clan leader was permitted to learn it; not even Zheng Ling or Zheng Kong had that privilege.
Gu Ang retaliated without hesitation, sweeping his leg toward the incoming palms. The momentum was unstoppable, like a storm descending from the heavens.
Leg and palm collided. Explosions crackled through the air. Gu Ang's pant leg and Zheng Yunqing's sleeve tore to shreds, blown away by the whirlwind of their clash, revealing their toned muscles.
Both men were forced back, each step leaving deep impressions in the stone. They prepared to clash again, but an overwhelming pressure pressed down on everyone present, forcing them to halt.
"Enough. Cease this fighting at once."
Zheng Mufeng stepped into the courtyard.
The might of a Spirit Fusion expert was truly in a league of its own.