Hong Yue possessed a grit that few could deny. Even as the agony of his severed limb threatened to send him into shock, he remained standing, his remaining hand pressing firmly against the cauterized stump to stem the flow of blood. He had stabilized the wound, physically at least, but his eyes frantically scanned the ground for the piece of himself he had lost.
He needed that arm. In this world of cultivation, limbs could be reattached if found quickly enough. But his hope shattered the moment he realized the truth: the severed limb had not merely fallen; it had been incinerated. It was nothing but ash now, scattered by the wind.
Hong Yue bit down on his lip so hard that a thin line of blood trickled down his chin. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. Without the arm, there was no recovery. From this day forward, he was a one-armed man. Worse, the arm that remained was his left—his non-dominant hand, clumsy and unpracticed.
In the brutal hierarchy of the sect, this injury was a death sentence for his status. He was plummeting from the clouds straight into the mud. He knew exactly how this played out. The disciples who had once looked up to him with trembling fear and reverence would now look at him with undisguised mockery. The whispers would start today, and the disrespect would follow tomorrow.
However glorious his past had been, his future was destined to be equally pathetic.
And the architect of this catastrophic reversal of fortune was standing right in front of him: Luo Zhen.
A surge of rage and indignation boiled in Hong Yue's chest. He jerked his head up, glaring coldly at his opponent. But the fire in his eyes was extinguished the moment his gaze landed on the Crystal Fire Saber hovering silently beside Luo Zhen. The blade hummed with a terrifying, understated power.
Hong Yue slumped. Even at his peak, with two good arms and full confidence, he hadn't been Luo Zhen's match. Now, crippled and exhausted, the gap between them was an abyss. Seeking revenge was a fool's errand; he should be thanking the heavens that Luo Zhen hadn't decided to finish the job permanently.
"Do you still want to fight?"
Luo Zhen's voice was indifferent, devoid of triumph or malice. It was the tone of someone asking if it was going to rain.
"No... no more fighting." Hong Yue trembled, a spasm he couldn't control. His lips quivered as he forced the words out. "I... I admit defeat."
There was no other choice. Surrender was humiliating, but continuing was suicide. If he pushed his luck, he wouldn't just lose face; he would lose his life.
The Crumbling Idol
Outside the boundary of the arena, the silence was heavy. Upon hearing Hong Yue's surrender, the expressions among the crowd shifted into a complex tapestry of shock and disillusionment.
For years, Hong Yue had been a titan in the Outer Sect. Despite the unsavory rumors regarding his relationship with Wang Lili, he was a figure of authority, a benchmark that many disciples aspired to reach. He was the ceiling they hoped to touch.
But today, the ceiling had collapsed. The idol had been toppled by a newcomer, a fresh face named Luo Zhen.
In a way, it wasn't just Hong Yue who had lost. The collective pride of the veteran disciples had been shattered. They had rested on their seniority, believing that time in the sect equated to power. Luo Zhen had just proven them wrong.
"Damn it," someone muttered, their voice thick with denial. "I still can't believe Hong Yue lost."
"Believe it or not, the man admitted it himself," another replied grimly. "His right arm is gone. The era of Hong Yue is over."
"Where do these newcomers come from?" a third disciple sighed, shaking his head. "This Luo Zhen... looking at his aura, he's clearly only at the late King Realm. Who could have guessed his combat power would be so explosive? Even Hong Yue couldn't handle him."
The crowd buzzed with the nervous energy of a paradigm shift.
Luo Zhen ignored the noise. The opinions of the peanut gallery meant nothing to him. Once the surrender was accepted, he recalled his Profound Crystal Fire and turned to leave.
He hadn't taken two steps when the sound of frantic footsteps approached from the side. Luo Zhen glanced over to see a pathetic scene unfolding. Ma Jinghuan was rushing toward him, dragging two battered figures—the Deng brothers. The brothers were black and blue, their faces swollen masks of misery, looking as though they had been put through a meat grinder.
"Greetings, Senior Brother Luo! Senior Brother Luo is mighty!" Ma Jinghuan shouted, flashing a dry, sycophantic smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I knew you were invincible. Just as I predicted, even Hong Yue wasn't your match!"
Luo Zhen frowned, his patience thinning. "Save the flattery. What do you want?"
"Hehe, nothing much. I just took the liberty of teaching these two a lesson," Ma Jinghuan said, his face suddenly contorting into a mask of righteous indignation. "These two blind fools, the Deng brothers... they dared to speak ill of you in private, Senior Brother Luo. I happened to overhear them!"
He shook the limp bodies of the brothers for emphasis. "Who am I? I am Ma Jinghuan, your die-hard loyalist! I couldn't stand for such disrespect, so I gave them a vicious beating on your behalf!"
Ma Jinghuan looked up, eyes gleaming with the hope of reward. "Senior Brother Luo, tell me, how should we deal with these blind idiots? Just say the word, and I guarantee their own mothers won't recognize them when I'm done!"
Luo Zhen looked at Ma Jinghuan with profound disgust. This was the nature of the weak and the opportunistic.
"I don't want to see you," Luo Zhen said coldly. "Scram."
The rejection was blunt, but Ma Jinghuan didn't miss a beat. "Alrighty! Scramming right now!"
He grabbed the Deng brothers by their collars and dragged them away, scampering off to a safe distance before stopping to watch Luo Zhen with eager, puppy-dog eyes.
Luo Zhen sneered internally. He had seen too many men like Ma Jinghuan in his life. They were fair-weather friends, parasites who attached themselves to whoever shone the brightest. Today, they would kneel and lick his boots because he was in his prime. Tomorrow, if he were to fall, Ma Jinghuan would be the first to spit on him.
The crowd around Hong Yue was already proving this point. The reverence was gone, replaced by cold calculation.
"Gu Shi, let's go." Luo Zhen waved a hand toward his own companion.
Gu Shi, who had been waiting nervously, lit up with joy. He trotted over, looking like a man who had just won the lottery.
"Senior Brother Luo, you are truly amazing!" Gu Shi gushed as he fell into step beside him. "You actually beat Hong Yue into the ground!"
"It was alright. I got lucky," Luo Zhen replied with a casual shrug.
"You're too humble! That wasn't luck," Gu Shi insisted. "Everyone saw it. You completely crushed him. You know, Hong Yue was recognized as the third strongest disciple in the Outer Sect. He enjoyed massive privileges. Now that you've defeated him, that status—and those privileges—belong to you."
Luo Zhen raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Privileges? What kind of privileges?"
"Plenty. For one, no one dares to compete for the missions he selects in the Mission Hall. But the most enviable perk is his residence," Gu Shi explained, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know Gathering Sun Peak, right? It's not a large mountain, but it sits directly atop a fragment of a Spirit Vein. The spiritual energy there is incredibly dense."
Gu Shi held up three fingers. "There are only three cave abodes on that peak, reserved for the three strongest in the Outer Sect. Since Hong Yue lost to you, he's no longer worthy of the address. That cave is yours now."
Gu Shi's eyes widened with excitement. "They say one day of cultivation on Gathering Sun Peak is equal to five days anywhere else. You can increase your cultivation speed fivefold!"
"Is that so?" Luo Zhen nodded slowly. That was indeed a useful prize.
They continued walking until they reached the entrance of the Artifact Hall.
"I have business inside," Luo Zhen said, stopping at the door. "You don't need to wait for me."
"Understood! You go about your business, Senior Brother. Don't worry about me," Gu Shi said, bowing slightly.
Luo Zhen nodded and stepped into the hall. He wasn't here for weapons; he was here to cash in. The mission to find exotic beast parts had originated here, and his storage ring was currently stuffed to the brim with the flesh of the Ba Serpent.
Outside, Gu Shi watched Luo Zhen's retreating figure with a satisfied grin.
He had bet on the right horse.
Gu Shi had spent years in the Outer Sect walking on thin ice, trembling with fear, always afraid of offending the wrong person. Yet, despite his caution, he was still bullied. He had no strength and no backing. But now? He had latched onto Luo Zhen's leg—a leg that had just kicked Hong Yue off his pedestal.
He had seen the looks on the other disciples' faces earlier. The disdain had vanished, replaced by caution. Bullying Gu Shi now meant disrespecting Luo Zhen, and after today's display, no one wanted to do that.
I really am a genius at finding patrons, Gu Shi thought, patting himself on the back. Luo Zhen is powerful, but more importantly, he's calm. He didn't gloat, he didn't scream. He's like an ancient well—deep and undisturbed. A man like that is bound for greatness.
The Alchemist's Dilemma
Dong He was a fixture of the Chemical Blade Sect's Artifact Hall. At sixty-seven years old, his cultivation was stuck at the late stage of the Origin Core Realm—a mediocre achievement in a sect full of monsters. But Dong He commanded respect for one reason: he was a Grade 6 Alchemist.
In the world of cultivation, pill refining was a prestigious craft, and Dong He was a master of it. That was his capital. That was why he was a deacon.
But today, Deacon Dong was miserable.
"The cleverest housewife cannot cook without rice," he muttered to himself, staring at his cold furnace.
He had the skill. He had the fire. What he didn't have were raw materials. The Inner Sect disciples were too busy chasing immortality to bother with his gathering quests. The Outer Sect disciples were willing but weak; they couldn't survive the hunts required to bring back Grade 6 ingredients or high-level beast cores.
It was a vicious cycle. Without materials, he couldn't refine. Without refining, he couldn't improve.
"If I just had enough materials to practice with," he grumbled, kicking a table leg, "I could have advanced to Grade 7 by now. Maybe even Grade 8!"
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound jerked him from his pity party.
"Who is it?" he barked.
"Is this Deacon Dong? The one who issued the Spirit Beast mission?" A young, calm voice floated through the door.
"Oh. Someone handing in a mission." Dong He's shoulders slumped. "Come in."
The door opened to reveal a young man in white robes. He looked unremarkable.
"This disciple is Luo Zhen," the young man said, cupping his hands politely. "I've collected some demon beast flesh to complete the mission."
Dong He sighed internally. He saw a dozen kids like this every week. They would bring in some low-grade rabbit or a common wolf, expecting a fortune.
"I won't come in," Luo Zhen said, glancing around the cramped office. "The flesh I collected... It's a bit large. Your room is too small."
Dong He rolled his eyes. "Just put it in the courtyard then. The terrazzo floor is clean enough."
He followed Luo Zhen outside, his expression a mix of boredom and impatience.
Luo Zhen didn't seem to mind the cold reception. He simply walked to the center of the courtyard and waved his hand through the air.
The space distorted, and a flash of gloomy light erupted from his storage ring.
THUD.
The ground shook. A segment of meat, twenty meters long and as thick as a small house, materialized and slammed onto the pavement.
The air in the courtyard instantly changed. A dense, visceral wave of spiritual energy rolled off the carcass, hitting Dong He in the face like a gust of wind.
Dong He's jaw dropped. His eyes, previously half-lidded with boredom, bulged until they threatened to pop out of his skull.
"This... what kind of flesh is this?!"
The old alchemist scrambled forward, his dignity forgotten. He ran his hands along the rough, cold scales of the meat segment, his fingers trembling with ecstasy. To an observer, the way he caressed the dead snake was more intimate than a lover's touch.
"Powerful... so powerful!" Dong He stammered, drool practically pooling in the corners of his mouth. "The spiritual density is off the charts! Just this one chunk... I could refine so many pills!"
Luo Zhen watched the old man's transformation with amusement. It seemed the Ba Serpent was a bigger hit than he anticipated. That boded well for his wallet.
After dancing around the meat for a full minute, Dong He finally remembered the supplier. He spun around, eyes wild. "Young man! This is snake flesh, clearly. But what kind? Did you kill a high-level Spirit Snake?"
"Not a Spirit Snake," Luo Zhen corrected gently. "It's a Ba Serpent. An exotic beast. And it was at the Demon Emperor level."
"What? A Ba Serpent? Demon Emperor level?!"
Dong He's voice cracked, hitting a pitch that only dogs should be able to hear. He scrambled back to the meat, pulled out a small silver knife, and sliced off a sliver of the crimson flesh. He tossed it into his mouth.
His face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions: shock, disbelief, and finally, pure, unadulterated awe. His face flushed beet red, and he spat the meat out.
"The energy!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "I only chewed it twice, and the spiritual power nearly blew my head off!"
He looked at Luo Zhen, laughing maniacally. "It really is a Ba Serpent! With this, I can advance! Grade 7 is within reach! Hahahaha!"
"Deacon Dong," Luo Zhen interrupted, scratching his nose. "Sorry to interrupt your celebration, but... how many contribution points is this worth?"
Dong He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Points? Right! Yes! I have to pay you!"
He looked at the massive slab of meat, calculating furiously. "This is a Demon Emperor exotic beast. The value is astronomical. How about... six thousand points?"
"Six thousand?" Luo Zhen raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the high number.
Dong He misinterpreted the surprise as disappointment. Panic flashed in his eyes. He couldn't lose this supplier.
"You think it's too little? You're right! Of course, you're right!" Dong He waved his hands frantically. "I'm being stingy. This is a Ba Serpent, for god's sake. Fine! I'll take a loss on my personal quota. Ten thousand points! Can you accept ten thousand?"
"I can accept that," Luo Zhen said quickly, nodding. "Oh, by the way... do you buy in bulk? I have more in my ring."
Dong He froze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked if you still want more," Luo Zhen smiled. "I have more segments."
"You... you have more?" Dong He looked like he was witnessing a miracle.
"Yeah."
Luo Zhen waved his hand again.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Three more massive segments, identical to the first, crashed onto the courtyard floor. The stone pavement cracked under the weight.
"Holy crap! Holy crap!" Dong He screamed, clutching his hair.
"Wait, there's more," Luo Zhen said casually. "My ring is full of it."
He kept waving his hand.
One after another, giant slabs of serpent meat rained down from the void. Within sixty seconds, the neat courtyard of the Artifact Hall had vanished. In its place stood a grotesque, majestic mountain of meat, towering twenty meters into the air. The concentration of spiritual energy was so thick that it formed a visible mist.
Dong He's legs gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the tower of flesh that blocked out the sun.
He turned his head slowly toward Luo Zhen, his voice trembling with terror and awe.
"Holy crap... you... You didn't just find a carcass, did you? You caught a Demon Emperor Ba Serpent and butchered the whole damn thing!?"