The moment Elder "Sword-Mad" stepped forward, drifting sword-energy burst from him like glittering frost. Threads of pure Geng-Metal qi crystallized mid-air, falling in a slow, breathtaking cascade. The air turned biting cold, heavy with a killing intent as sharp as winter steel. That chill washed over the enraged disciples of the Taiyi Sect, and even their fury cooled a fraction.
The famously temperamental elder—one of the few at the Ninth Stage of Divine Abilities, a man who had already condensed the awe-inspiring Heaven-and-Earth Dharma Body—had unleashed a sword art so refined it bordered on divine. A casual swing, and the world filled with snow-bright sword petals: the supreme technique of the Sun-Moon Sword Sect—"When All Under Heaven Turns to Snow."
He had no choice. If he couldn't suppress Taiyi's rage now, the conflict would ignite into a sect-level war. The demon sects were already watching like hungry wolves. If the righteous sects began tearing each other apart, even the Three Great Sword Sects would be dragged into disaster.
The remaining golden-core elites—Wang Tianyi, Zhu Yangyi, and the others—halted, though hatred still coiled in their chests like poison. They stared at Fang Han with eyes cold enough to freeze marrow, each of them calculating the cost of today's humiliation.
Taiyi Sect had no moral footing. If this spread, they'd become the joke of the cultivation world—mocked by all nine righteous sects as thugs worse than demon cultivators.
But their loss today was catastrophic: two golden-core prodigies, two rising giants, reduced to ash. Losing face was one thing—losing those talents was another.
"Elder Sword-Mad, are you truly standing in the way of our Taiyi Sect's vengeance?" Wang Tianyi rasped. "Junior Brothers Zhao Xuanyi and Song Weiyi were slaughtered—Golden Cores taken, treasures looted. This is an insult unmatched since our sect was founded. If you block us, then you oppose Taiyi itself. Think very carefully. Can the Sun-Moon Sword Sect afford the consequences?"
"Oh? Are you threatening me?"
Sword-Mad's temper ignited instantly. His reputation wasn't for nothing—his nickname alone spoke of his nature. He hadn't stepped in just for the sake of justice. He simply found Taiyi's behavior unbearable—and, truthfully, he liked Fang Han more than he liked the arrogant cultivators before him.
Besides, he wasn't even stopping them from seeking justice. He only demanded they report back to their Sect Master before escalating. Yet Taiyi spoke as if the Sun-Moon Sword Sect should kneel for them.
"Wang Tianyi, listen well. I killed a man at eight, cultivated at nine, formed Divine Abilities at fifteen, my Golden Core at sixty, and my Dharma Body at five hundred. I've slaughtered more people than you've shaken hands with. You think you can scare me? If you look down on my Sun-Moon Sword Sect—come, try me!"
Sword-Mad roared, killing intent bursting outward.
The other two sword sect leaders—Feng Feitian, the "Sky-Split Sword," and Elder Danxia—wore equally dark expressions. Taiyi's arrogance reminded them uncomfortably of their own vulnerable positions. They didn't explode like Sword-Mad, but their disciples quietly closed ranks, forming a united front.
Seeing this, Taiyi's disciples grew visibly tense. Three sword sects united were no joke.
"Enough," Wang Tianyi forced out, restraining his rage. "Today's matter is between Taiyi and the Yuhua Sect. We don't need outsiders intervening. You may stand aside and watch."
"Hahaha! You think you can move me?" Fang Han laughed. "I have the Five-Elements Pass Token now—I can walk in and out of this realm whenever I want. If I leave now, no one here can stop me."
"You can run for a day but not forever. Yuhua Sect won't save you," Wang Tianyi sneered.
"I'm not running," Fang Han replied calmly. "In fact, I'll make this public. With so many witnesses, let the cultivation world judge who acted shamefully. The Immortal Assembly is in three years—perfect timing."
A cold voice cut through the air—Zhu Yangyi.
"You may leave," he said, "but Junior Brothers Zhao and Song's Golden Cores must be returned. As well as the Six-Eyes Spirit Tablet and the Heart-Soul Sword you stole from their remains. You killed them—must you also pillage what they left behind?"
The words sounded reasonable. Even Sword-Mad paused.
But Fang Han only looked at Zhu Yangyi more closely.
The man was tall, elegant, jade-skinned, waving a feather fan like some celestial immortal. But beneath that serene façade, Fang Han saw venom.
Return the Golden Cores? Impossible.
Not only could he not refine them yet—unless he opened a third mind-sea or reached the Seventh Stage Golden Core Realm—but he had far better uses in mind. Dark uses. Strategic uses. Lethal uses.
And beyond that, the nine ghostly souls within him…the horrifying potential of refining the Nine-Ghost Primordial Spirit…the chance to seize the legendary Huang Quan Devil Emperor's Three-Thousand-Year Arts…
If he could refine that, he might one day even surpass Hua Tiandu—becoming unrivaled below the Longevity Realm.
As for the treasures? If Taiyi wouldn't spare him, why should he surrender anything that increased his odds of survival?
"Won't return them?" Zhu Yangyi's voice dropped to a deadly chill. "Then you're admitting fault. Don't blame Taiyi for being merciless. Return the Golden Cores, and perhaps our Sect Master will use immortal methods to resurrect the two. Your sins will be lighter. We may not pursue further."
To bystanders, it sounded perfectly reasonable.
Even Sword-Mad hesitated.
Fang Han sneered.
"Your Sect Master would abandon his chance at immortality…for two Golden Core disciples?"
"What?" Sword-Mad stiffened. He clearly didn't know.
A dry, mocking laugh echoed in Fang Han's mind—Yan's voice.
"Resurrection is possible," Yan said, "but only for those at the Ninth or Tenth Stage of the Longevity Realm, wielding an immortal artifact, and only if they sacrifice their own chance at ascension forever. No sane cultivator would do that—not for disciples, not even for children or spouses."
Fang Han's sneer deepened.
"Your grand pitch might fool a child. Not me."
He stepped forward, voice sharp as thunder.
"If they had challenged me openly and fallen, I would return their Golden Cores. But they ambushed me from the shadows, intending to kill me. Return their Cores? Let me ask you—"
His voice cracked like a whip.
"If you killed me today and seized the Yellow Springs Diagram…would you return it to the Yuhua Sect?"
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush stone.