Outside the cave, an old woman in black robes sat cross-legged, her stillness a facade belying the turbulent aura rippling around her. The air quivered, betraying her inner unrest, and a flicker of worry gleamed in her cloudy eyes.
"No good," she muttered. "I must report to the Matriarch. This cave's array bars those above Spirit Transformation. I'm powerless here."
Her gnarled hand clutched a fiery token engraved with the character "Yan." As she prepared to crush it, footsteps echoed, halting her action.
From the cave's misty depths, three figures emerged, their silhouettes growing clearer with each step.
The old woman's eyes narrowed, disbelief seizing her. A Spirit Transformation Mid-Stage cultivator, she rubbed her eyes, unable to trust the sight before her. The Yan Clan's two noble daughters, arm-in-arm with a young man, radiated intimacy. The token slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground.
Yan Die Qing's friendliness was no surprise—she was known for her warmth—but Yan Hong Lian, proud as a peacock, clinging to this boy with such joy? It defied reason.
This "Xiao Nan" was familiar to her; she'd shadowed the sisters, watching their interactions. Their camaraderie had been clear, but this closeness had blossomed too swiftly.
"Seventh Granny!" Ting'er's voice rang with delight as she released Lan An's arm, skipping to the old woman and hugging her playfully.
"Seventh Elder, your vigilance is appreciated," Hong Lian said, bowing respectfully.
Despite their lofty status in the Yan Clan, second only to their mother, the sisters were beloved for their filial respect, never wielding their rank arrogantly.
If the Yan Clan learned their treasures had been claimed by an unknown youth, the heavens might quake with their fury.
"Greetings, Seventh Elder," Lan An said, bowing. The sisters' elder was his elder, a gesture of his sincerity.
"This is our clan's Seventh Elder, a Mid-Stage Spirit Transformation master. And this is our companion, Xiao Nan," Hong Lian introduced, her smile radiant.
The Seventh Elder regained her composure, her gaze probing the trio with a knowing glint. Suddenly, she gasped, "Ting'er, you've reached Golden Core? Hong Lian, Mid-Stage Nascent Soul? What in the heavens happened?"
Her cloudy eyes sparkled with joy as she circled the sisters, marveling at their breakthroughs, momentarily forgetting Lan An.
The sisters exchanged smug glances, basking in their elder's praise. Their eyes, brimming with affection, turned to Lan An as they said in unison, "It's all thanks to Xiao Nan's aid."
"Excellent, excellent, excellent!" The Seventh Elder laughed heartily, repeating the word thrice. Her attention shifted to Lan An. "What's your name, lad?"
Lan An's lips twitched—a little respect, please?—but he replied courteously, "Xiao Nan, at your service, Elder."
Deliberately, he released his aura, revealing his Late-Stage Golden Core cultivation. He wouldn't let his beloved's kin underestimate him.
The Seventh Elder's eyes gleamed. "Impressive. A young hero! Late-Stage Golden Core at your age outshines even Han Qing of the Han Clan."
The trio shared a knowing smile, indifferent to this "Han Qing."
"Enough chatter. Young ladies, we must return. Your training time's overdue, and the Matriarch's worry might spell my doom!" the Seventh Elder said, her tone urgent.
The sisters' faces fell, their eyes lingering on Lan An, filled with reluctance.
Lan An's heart ached, but their paths diverged for now. Whispering through spiritual sense, he vowed, "At Sacred Lotus Academy, we'll reunite as husband and wife."
The sisters nodded, suppressing their longing. Their smiles bloomed like a hundred flowers, breathtaking in their beauty.
"Here's the route through Shan Mu Forest. Be cautious," Hong Lian said, stepping close. A wisp of her soul carried the map into his mind, and Lan An accepted it without resistance.
The Seventh Elder watched, her heart sighing. Such trust, to share a soul's touch so freely.
"Let's go," she said kindly to Lan An, taking the sisters' hands. The air surged with heat, and the trio soared skyward, vanishing in a blink.
Flight—a privilege of Nascent Soul cultivators, effortless for a Mid-Stage Spirit Transformation master like the Seventh Elder. Lan An couldn't even track their departure, their speed blinding.
"Lad, claiming our clan's ladies isn't so simple. Consider 'that one' your first test," the Seventh Elder's voice teased, echoing in his ears despite her distance.
"As expected," Lan An said, a wry smile forming. A seasoned elder like her couldn't miss the bond between them. She'd feigned ignorance to spare awkwardness. As for "that one," Lan An had already sensed his presence.
Turning to a towering tree, he called, "Who's there? Show yourself!"
A young man in blue robes stepped out, his handsome face twisted with envy and hatred. Han Qing, his usual composure gone, glared at Lan An.
He'd suspected a Yan Clan lady was within the cave. Defied by the Seventh Elder, he'd lingered, hoping to charm his dream goddess. His guess was right—two Yan daughters emerged, but with a boy younger than him, their intimacy a dagger to his heart.
Why? A genius of a Seventh-Rank clan like him skulked for a glimpse, while an unknown like Lan An walked arm-in-arm with his idols? Jealousy, resentment, and rage consumed him, urging him to crush Lan An before their eyes, to prove their folly.
Lan An frowned, piecing together Han Qing's motives with the Seventh Elder's taunt. A stranger's killing intent, sparked by his bond with the sisters, left him torn—proud of their allure, yet weary of the suitors they'd attract.
"Who am I? You're unworthy to know, nameless rat daring to touch phoenixes. Die!" Han Qing roared, his Late-Stage Golden Core aura erupting. His hands formed seals, chanting, as an Ice Sword coalesced from Ice spiritual energy, hurtling toward Lan An with lethal intent.
Ice Sword Control Art, a Mid-Tier Mysterious-Grade skill famed in the Han Clan.
"An Ice root?" Lan An mused, unruffled. Behind him, the phantom of an Earth Bear roared to life.
ROAR!
The Earth Bear bellowed, its massive paws clamping the Ice Sword mid-flight.
"What skill is this?" Han Qing gaped, but sneered as the bear held his sword. "Foolish. Explode!"
The Ice Sword detonated, its blast cracking the Earth Bear's arms. Shards grazed Lan An, slicing strands of his hair.
Han Qing grinned viciously, summoning three more Ice Swords, spinning around him at dizzying speed.
The Spirit Earth Cauldron in Lan An's dantian hummed, channeling Earth spiritual energy. In moments, the Earth Bear reformed, pristine before Han Qing's stunned eyes.
"Hmph, let's see how long you last," Han Qing snarled, his Ice Swords draining his energy. He doubted Lan An could sustain the bear.
"Attack!" The three Ice Swords targeted Lan An directly.
Lan An smirked, his fists glowing with Earth spiritual energy. "Spirit Fist," he intoned.
Unleashing a barrage of punches, Lan An shattered the Ice Swords, the Earth Bear mirroring his assault with thunderous blows.
Crack!
The swords splintered before Han Qing could detonate them.
Spirit Fist, a mere Yellow-Grade skill pilfered from Uncle Ji and the Sha Hai Crew, became devastating paired with the Earth Bear.
"Impossible!" Han Qing's face darkened. Recognizing Lan An's low-grade skill, he couldn't fathom its power.
"My turn," Lan An said, leaping forward, his fist aimed at Han Qing's gut. The Earth Bear followed, its massive paw swinging.
"Fool! Ice Mysterious Armor!" Han Qing gritted, encasing himself in thick ice studded with sharp spikes—a Mysterious-Grade defensive skill.
His smirk faded as Lan An halted his punch. The Earth Bear lunged, embracing Han Qing, heedless of the spikes piercing its form.
"Damn you! What are you doing? Release me!" Han Qing thrashed, panic rising.
Cold Ice Palm! Han Qing struck the bear with icy palm strikes, dimming its form, but the Spirit Earth Cauldron restored it instantly.
With Han Qing trapped, Lan An's silver eye gleamed with killing intent. His fingers blurred, weaving a complex seal.
Sensing danger, Han Qing struggled harder, but the Earth Bear, fueled by the Spirit Earth Cauldron, held him like prey.
In mere breaths, Lan An completed the seal, Earth spiritual energy swirling around his hand. He clenched his fist. "Earth-Grade Skill: Mother Earth's Requiem – Sand Coffin!"
BOOM!
The ground erupted, sand surging skyward, forming a massive coffin that engulfed Han Qing and the Earth Bear. The bear dissolved, its energy fusing with the coffin, sealing Han Qing within as it shrank.
"Crush him," Lan An murmured.
The coffin's walls contracted, intent on pulping its captive.
Bang!
The coffin shattered, a bloodied figure collapsing. Han Qing, trembling, bore wounds and bruises, his Ice Mysterious Armor in tatters.
Pfft!
Spitting blood, Han Qing's bloodshot eyes glared at Lan An, his voice a rasping curse. "Well done… No matter who you are, I'll make you regret being born!"
Lan An ignored him, his focus on the sword in Han Qing's hand. Instinct told him it had freed him from the Sand Coffin. Thin as a cicada's wing, it radiated chilling aura, its edge having sliced through his skill.
"With my Ice Slaughter Sword, your death is an honor," Han Qing said, swallowing a pill to restore his energy, brandishing the blade.
"An Earth-Grade weapon? All that talk for this?" Lan An said, feigning nonchalance, though inwardly cautious, never underestimating a foe.
"Die! Ice Control Movement Art!" Han Qing's feet glowed blue, his form vanishing in a blur of frost.
"Movement art too?" Lan An's eyes narrowed. A Seventh-Rank genius was indeed layered with tricks.
Inhaling deeply, his White Moon Soul-Seizing Eye flared, scanning a hundred-mile radius. Han Qing's attack flaws appeared clear.
Thousand-Mile Insight – Weakness-Piercing Vision.
The Heaven-Grade artifact's terrifying abilities shone.
"There you are," Lan An muttered, spotting Han Qing's sword light. In his palm, a violet spark secretly formed.
Spirit Bullet, a Yellow-Grade skill gleaned from the cave's entrance.
"Die!" Han Qing roared, believing Lan An oblivious, his Ice Slaughter Sword slashing down.
His triumphant sneer froze. Lowering his gaze, he saw a hole through his heart, silent and bloodless.
Heat surged within him, his eyes widening in terror. "Strange Fire… how…?"
Sizzle.
Before he finished, flames consumed him, his body vanishing in a whiff of charred scent.
The air trembled, ripples lingering.
"Truly fearsome," Lan An murmured, eyeing the tiny violet flame in his palm, spinning harmlessly.
"A Spirit Bullet infused with Strange Fire, not even launched, yet so lethal?"
A Yellow-Grade skill, enhanced by a sliver of Strange Fire, had slain a Late-Stage Golden Core cultivator in a sneak attack.
Picking up the Ice Slaughter Sword, Lan An stored it in the Black Skull Ring as spoils. His Spirit Blossom Orb could hold items too, but the ring was more convenient.
Checking the Orb, he saw the White Star Serpent encased in a glowing, egg-like shell, nearing a critical refinement stage. Not wishing to disturb it, he withdrew.
Following the Shan Mu Forest route in his mind, Lan An turned to leave.
Something caught his eye—a glint where the Seventh Elder had stood.
Curious, he retrieved it: a blazing token shaped like a flame, inscribed with a bold character:
"Yan."