"Teacher, didn't you say that the Wind-Lightning Pavilion is one of the first-rate factions in the Central Plains? Can they really be defeated so easily?"
After calming himself, Xiao Yan turned toward his master, Yao Lao, and voiced the question that had been lingering in his heart.
"If you asked me a few months ago, I would've said it would be difficult," Yao Lao replied with a slight nod, gently stroking his beard as a faint smile rose on his face. "But now… things are different."
"After hearing from Queen Medusa that Xiao Hua's sworn brother and two sisters have all reached the six-star Dou Zun level… I doubt even the Wind-Lightning Pavilion, with all its foundations and reinforcements, can ensure their Pavilion Chief's survival."
Xiao Yan's eyes narrowed sharply, a cold light flashing within them. His voice dropped, laced with fury. "If it weren't for those bastards causing trouble and dragging Xiao Hua away, Yun Leng and the others wouldn't have dared to lay a finger on the Xiao Clan while Brother Xiao Hua was still here…"
Yao Lao remained silent, matching Xiao Yan's fury with quiet solemnity. He slowly shook his head and sighed.
"Teacher, those strange people shrouded in black fog... You said they are from the Hall of Souls? What exactly are they—and why would they want to slaughter my Xiao Clan?" Xiao Yan asked, his brows furrowed deeply.
Yao Lao remained silent for a long moment before shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. A bitter smile surfaced on his face as he spoke.
"Little fellow… I had originally planned to tell you everything once your strength had reached a certain level. But now, it seems I no longer have that luxury. Life truly has a way of forcing our hand when we least expect it…"
Xiao Yan was startled by Yao Lao's reaction. From his expression and tone, it was clear that he had a personal history with this so-called Hall of Souls. In that instant, a chilling thought crossed his mind: perhaps the reason Yao Lao was trapped in this half-living, half-dead state… was because of them.
Though his heart burned with questions, Xiao Yan chose to remain silent, listening patiently for what was to come.
"However," Yao Lao said solemnly, "I must warn you first—this matter involves a faction that is far too powerful and shrouded in mystery. Compared to them, even the Misty Cloud Sect is no more than an ant. Once you hear this, there is no turning back."
He looked directly at Xiao Yan, his voice low but firm.
"Are you certain you wish to know?"
Though Yao Lao already knew the answer in his heart, he still sought his disciple's confirmation. After all, some truths, once revealed, become burdens that can never be set down.
Without the slightest hesitation, Xiao Yan nodded. His ink-black eyes held an unshakable resolve—like an immovable stone, untouched even by the mightiest of waves. He spoke softly, yet each word carried the weight of his determination.
"Teacher, I don't know the full strength of that faction. But I will not retreat, nor will I cower, simply because the enemy is powerful. I am your disciple… and a member of the Xiao Clan."
"I may still be weak, but along my journey, I have received countless blessings. Everything I possess today—these abilities, this path I walk—was made possible by you… and Brother Xiao Hua."
"Haha! Good! Good! These eyes of mine, Yao Chen, were not blinded a second time! Haha!"
After Xiao Yan's words fell, Yao Lao remained silent for a moment. Then, he suddenly burst into loud laughter, his voice trembling with emotion. His joy echoed from deep within his soul, and he repeated the word "good" as if unable to contain his pride.
Yet Xiao Yan's thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.
His master's words—"not blinded a second time"—had struck a chord. He understood. Yao Lao had once trusted someone, only to be betrayed… and he knew exactly who that person was.
'Han Feng… The blood debt you owe my teacher—I will repay it in full!'
A cold glint flashed in Xiao Yan's eyes before a helpless smile tugged at his lips. There were simply too many blood debts now… so many people he had yet to settle accounts with.
"To be honest, I would've preferred your cousin to hold up the sky for you a while longer… but it seems no amount of words can change your mind," Yao Lao sighed, lightly shaking his head with a helpless smile.
"Little fellow, I've told you before—the Dou Qi Continent is vast, far beyond what you've seen. Within it, powerful experts are as countless as clouds. Even someone like Yun Shan, whom you viewed as powerful, would have no choice but to cast aside his arrogance upon stepping into the central regions. There, exist many who could crush him with ease."
Yao Lao's tone was slow and heavy, tinged with a faint desolation. The weight of his words held Xiao Yan's full attention, leaving him utterly focused and silent.
"Because of the continent's vastness, countless strange and powerful factions have risen. Among them is one particularly mysterious force known as the Hall of Souls. Though their influence spans nearly half the continent, they rarely appear in remote regions like the Jia Ma Empire. As such, very few on the continent even know of their existence."
"I've never regarded Yun Shan as truly powerful," Xiao Yan said, shaking his head with a cold snort. "I admit, his cultivation is overwhelming—at least compared to what I possess now. But if anything, I consider Brother Xiao Hua far more powerful than him." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke.
"Indeed. That cousin of yours is a monster in human skin," Yao Lao replied, shaking his head with a dry chuckle. "From my youth until the height of my power, I've never heard of anyone as terrifyingly gifted as him. His very existence forces the so-called geniuses of this generation to swallow their pride."
"I believe that even in the Central Plains, he would still shine. Perhaps, in the near future, he may become one of the most powerful figures in the entire Dou Qi Continent..." he added, his voice carrying a rare tone of respect and awe when speaking of Xiao Hua.
"Regardless," Xiao Yan said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, steering the conversation back. "If the Hall of Souls could send someone capable of contending with both Old Hai and Queen Medusa… then their strength must be far deeper than we imagined."
"Ah…" Yao Lao let out a bitter smile and slowly nodded. "The Hall of Souls is an extremely powerful and enigmatic faction. Their methods are strange—unorthodox, even—and difficult to comprehend. Truthfully, even I don't fully understand the extent of their abilities. However, they usually don't target ordinary people."
He paused briefly before continuing, "Their true targets are Living Spirits—those whose physical bodies have perished, yet whose spiritual strength is so immense that their souls remain intact. As an alchemist, you should know that once a spirit reaches a certain threshold, it can survive the destruction of its body and linger, waiting for a chance to be revived. Spirits of this caliber are what we call Living Spirits."
Xiao Yan frowned slightly, his voice low and uncertain. "But… I don't understand, Teacher. Why would you have anything to do with the Hall of Souls?"
Yao Lao's smile grew bitter as he replied in a flat tone, "Han Feng… He colluded with the Hall of Souls. Because of him, I ended up in this wretched state…"
"I've said it before—and I'll say it again—that bastard deserves to die!"
Xiao Yan clenched his fists tightly, teeth grinding as fury surged within him. The thought that Han Feng, his senior, had allied with the Hall of Souls… and had harmed the man who saved him from the cold darkness and raised him like his own—was unforgivable.
"Regardless," Yao Lao shook his head and continued, "not long after my physical body was destroyed, I was surrounded and ambushed by the Hall of Souls. Although I managed to break through their encirclement in the end, I suffered grievous injuries because of it."
Xiao Yan drew in a deep breath of cold air. He had heard from Xiao Hua about his teacher's formidable strength—yet even someone like Yao Lao had been forced to flee in desperation.
Just how terrifying was this mysterious Hall of Souls?
"They possess special techniques specifically designed to deal with spirits," Yao Lao said quietly, his voice carrying a heavy tone. "Even with my level of soul cultivation, it was difficult to contend with them in my current state."
He paused before adding, "The real reason I'm so desperate to reconstruct my body… is because of them. I fear that if I remain like this for too long, I'll fall into their hands. Besides—there are matters I must uncover… and grudges I can't leave unsettled."
"But that still doesn't answer my question…" Xiao Yan said, raising a brow as he fixed his gaze on Yao Lao. "Why did the Hall of Souls attack my Xiao Clan?"
Yao Lao sighed bitterly. "Unfortunately, even I don't know. When I first heard of it… I was genuinely shocked."
The Hall of Souls launching a direct assault on the Xiao Clan had caught even Yao Lao off guard. But judging from the surviving clan members' accounts, one thing was certain—the attack had been meticulously planned, timed perfectly for when Xiao Hua was absent and cannot return to help.
"So… even Teacher doesn't know," Xiao Yan muttered with a sigh, his voice tinged with disappointment.
From his storage ring, he retrieved an ancient jade piece that glowed with a faint, mysterious light.
Under the blue-sky, the strange markings carved into the jade's surface appeared to pulse gently—brightening and dimming rhythmically, as if breathing. Yet, Xiao Yan paid them no heed. His attention remained fixed on a single flickering light spot within the jade, darting about like a restless flame.
That light represented his father's life force.
As long as that tiny glow still pulsed with vitality, Xiao Yan had a reason to persevere—to grow stronger without pause, to train with unwavering resolve.
After a long silence, he exhaled deeply, then slapped his cheeks lightly, forcing himself to refocus. A glint of determination returned to his eyes.
"Teacher, now that I've successfully refined the Wind-Lightning Strength… I should be able to begin practicing the Three Thousand Lightning Movement, right?"
"Naturally."
Seeing Xiao Yan shift his focus back to training, Yao Lao smiled faintly and gave a satisfied nod.
Xiao Yan lowered his head to pick up the silver-colored scroll resting atop the mossy green rock—only to pause in surprise. The scroll, once shining with brilliance, had now turned pitch-black.
The intricate illustrations within had vanished without a trace, and even the four words Three Thousand Lightning Movement that once adorned its surface had disappeared completely.
"Where did everything go?" Xiao Yan asked urgently, his expression shifting slightly as he stared at the now-blank scroll.
"It's already entered your mind. How could it still remain on the scroll?" Yao Lao replied with a helpless tone.
"Calm yourself and recall the images you saw last night. Those are the true essence of the Three Thousand Lightning Movement. Now that you've refined the Wind-Lightning Strength, learning it will be as natural as water flowing into a drain. As long as you train diligently and your talent is sufficient, mastery is only a matter of time."
Only after Yao Lao's reminder did realization dawn on Xiao Yan. He let out a bitter chuckle—after spending the entire night training amidst the storm, his thoughts had become sluggish.
He took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, his gaze rising to take in the endless sea of verdant trees. After being thoroughly washed by the night's torrential rain, the forest looked renewed—vibrant and full of life. As his eyes slowly swept across the lush landscape, the turbulence in his heart gradually calmed.
With his mind settling into tranquility, Xiao Yan gently closed his eyes once more. But unlike before, no darkness greeted him. Instead, it was as though he had entered a silver-hued realm.
Before him, countless luminous human figures flashed into existence, each adopting strange, lightning-like postures. Though the images moved swiftly, they burned themselves into his soul with striking clarity. Gone was the hazy, fleeting sensation from before—this time, every movement, every stance imprinted itself deeply in his heart, impossible to forget.
Now, Xiao Yan's mind mainly focused on mastering the first level of the Three Thousand Lightning Movement, the Lightning Flash.
…
A faint white mist drifted across the swamp, its surface dotted with tiny, emerald-green blades of grass. As a gentle breeze swept through, the fog stirred softly before rising with the wind, dispersing into the sky and gradually revealing the murky swamp beneath.
Chi! Chi! Chi!
Suddenly, numerous soft cracklings echoed within the stillness of the swamp. Moments later, a black-cloaked figure flickered into view, wrapped in a silver-hued lightning glow that pulsed with energy.
Each time his foot touched the ground, arcs of lightning burst outward, searing through the wet earth. The very mud beneath his steps began to bubble and boil, as though ignited from within. That sharp crackling sound came from the fierce clash between lightning and swamp, echoing eerily in the mist-cleared silence.
The speed of the black shadow was terrifying. As he streaked across the swamp, his steps gouged out a two-foot-wide trench in the soft earth, leaving behind a long, deep gully. Only after a long while did the swamp slowly reclaim the wound, the thick mud creeping back to its original state.
Behind him, a swarm of densely packed, black-scaled poisonous snakes burst forth from beneath the surface, one after another.
Their savage mouths opened wide, spewing foul-smelling water arrows that tore through the air with a sharp whistle, aiming directly for the figure's back. However, the speed of those arrows paled in comparison to the man's lightning-fast movements. None of them came close to striking him.
Boom!
The figure suddenly halted mid-run. His feet twisted slightly, and his body curved into a strange arc before he shot upward with explosive force. A deep thud echoed as he launched into the sky—and then, against all expectation, he remained suspended mid-air, without relying on any support.
Though he could only maintain this mid-air stance for less than ten seconds, any outsider who witnessed it would be left utterly stunned. To hover in the air without the aid of Dou Qi Wings or an external object required at least the strength of a Dou Huang.
Only when one stepped into the realm of a Dou Zong could they truly possess the ability to remain suspended in the air for extended periods.
After pausing for a brief moment in mid-air, a silver glow suddenly flickered beneath the black-cloaked figure's feet. His body twisted slightly, and with a sharp whistle of wind, he reappeared atop a large tree more than ten meters away from his original position.
If not for the faint trace of a black line still lingering in the air, one might have thought his speed had already transcended the limits of physical motion—approaching the realm of teleportation.
"As expected of a Di Class Agility Dou Technique… even the first level already feels this smooth and fast." A voice filled with astonishment echoed as the black figure landed steadily on a thick tree branch.
Yao Lao's illusory form appeared on a nearby branch, his gaze falling upon Xiao Yan's stunned expression. His tone was calm as he slowly explained,
"The Three Thousand Lightning Movement is divided into three levels: Lightning Flash, Instant Lightning, and finally, Three Thousand Lightning. Once one reaches the final stage, each step will be utterly silent, yet capable of crossing great distances in an instant. At that level, the technique borders on teleportation—so fast that even an elite Dou Zong would not dare underestimate it."
Xiao Yan nodded slightly, his voice quiet and thoughtful. "With my current level, I've likely only scratched the surface of the first stage—Lightning Flash."
Unlike his novel self, the current Xiao Yan was far more tempered. He understood well that his current achievement was merely the beginning. The true might of Three Thousand Lightning Movement lay far beyond this initial taste.
"One step at a time," Xiao Yan murmured as he sat cross-legged upon the tree branch, adjusting his breath.
While the technique could indeed grant him tremendous speed, its consumption of Dou Qi was also astonishingly high—a burden that would grow heavier the deeper he progressed.
Seeing Xiao Yan close his eyes to cultivate and recover his Dou Qi, Yao Lao nodded in quiet satisfaction. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Though Xiao Yan's reaction remained subdued, Yao Lao felt truly gratified—for he understood that Xiao Yan's achievement could not be taken lightly.
In just three days, Xiao Yan had already managed to barely execute the Three Thousand Lightning Movement. Although he could only crudely summon the Wind-Lightning Strength, the resulting speed already rivaled that of a fully mastered Xuan-Class Agility Dou Technique. Such progress, in such a short time, was more than remarkable.
What pleased Yao Lao even more was Xiao Yan's calm demeanor. Despite making tangible progress, he remained composed and did not allow arrogance to cloud his heart. Had he shown signs of pride, Yao Lao would've had no choice but to wear a stern face and remind him harshly—until his mind settled once more.
While Xiao Yan focused on replenishing his Dou Qi, Yao Lao softly pointed out the flaws he had noticed in his earlier attempts at using the Three Thousand Lightning Movement.
Once his recovery was complete, Xiao Yan once again attempted to execute the technique. This time, the Wind-Lightning Strength that gathered beneath his feet was far more restrained and controlled. The destructive aftermath he left across the swamp with each movement had also noticeably diminished.
It was clear that he had taken Yao Lao's guidance to heart—correcting the missteps from before and refining his control over the technique.
As time flowed by, the Three Thousand Lightning Movement practiced by the black-robed young man gradually advanced—from its once clumsy execution to a form that had clearly stepped into the realm of true basic mastery. The day he fully comprehended this technique would be the day he moved like lightning itself—erupting without warning and shaking the entire continent.
Over fifty days had passed since Xiao Yan began this grueling training. In that time, he had forgotten sleep, swallowed more black swamp mud than he could count, and endured countless venomous snake bites. Yet, the astonishing resilience of this young man never once allowed him to waver. Now… it was finally time to reap the fruits of his suffering.
Suspended in mid-air, Yao Lao's illusionary form gazed down at the black-robed youth below, whose face brimmed with wild joy. The usual calm on Yao Lao's face gave way to a rare smile.
In just over fifty days, Xiao Yan had successfully entered the first stage of the Three Thousand Lightning Movement—Lightning Flash. This level of speed would place him among the top even within the famed Wind Lightning Pavilion. Yet only Yao Lao truly understood the kind of brutal training this stubborn disciple had endured to reach such a height.
Talent, tenacity, and a relentless will to improve…
With these three traits gathered in one person, Yao Lao could see no path for Xiao Yan other than the road to greatness.
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