Fang Lin had only taken a few streets away from Cloud River Wine House when the air changed.
The noise of Rivercloud City did not vanish. Merchants still called out prices, carriage wheels still rolled across stone roads, and music still drifted from the zither pavilion behind him. But beneath all of that, a sharp pressure suddenly rose from the eastern street.
Sword Qi.
Then fire.
The two auras collided in the air before the cultivators themselves even appeared.
Several rogue cultivators stopped walking. A few merchants hurriedly pulled their carts aside. The nearby city guards changed expression and began shouting for people to move away from the street.
Someone whispered, "Again?"
Another cultivator's eyes brightened. "Jian Wuchen and Chi Yao?"
Fang Lin slowed his steps.
He did not move closer immediately. Instead, he drifted with the crowd, standing beneath the shadow of a closed talisman shop. His face remained Chen Yuan's face, dull and tired. His aura stayed at Middle Qi Conjunction Realm.
But his eyes quietly sharpened.
At the center of the street, two figures faced each other.
One wore white-blue sword robes. A silver lake emblem rested on his chest, and a long sword hung at his side. His aura was silver-blue, cold and clear, like moonlight reflected on still water.
Heavenly Sword Lake disciple.
Jian Wuchen.
Across from him stood a young woman in red-gold palace robes. Sun-thread embroidery glowed faintly along her sleeves, and a flame ribbon circled her wrist like a living serpent. Her golden-red aura burned with fierce pride, bright enough to make weaker cultivators step back instinctively.
Scarlet Sun Palace disciple.
Chi Yao.
The two had clearly not planned to fight seriously at first.
But pride was a strange thing.
It often began with a word, grew from a glance, and ended with broken streets.
Chi Yao's eyes were cold, but there was anger beneath them. Not wild anger. Controlled anger. The kind that came from someone who had been forced to swallow the word "draw" too many times.
"Jian Wuchen," she said, her voice carrying through the street. "Last time, Thousand Leaf patrols interrupted before the result was clear."
Jian Wuchen's expression remained calm, but the hand resting near his sword moved slightly.
"The result was already clear."
Chi Yao smiled.
It was beautiful.
It was also not friendly.
"Then show me again."
The surrounding cultivators retreated faster.
Fang Lin stood among them without drawing attention.
A city guard shouted, "Private battles are forbidden inside the central trade street!"
Neither genius looked at him.
The guard's face stiffened.
Another older guard pulled him back and muttered, "Do you want to become part of the street repair cost?"
The younger guard shut his mouth.
Fang Lin watched quietly.
These were not local sect geniuses like Lu Han, Yan Chi, or Guo Zhen.
Their robes, aura, posture, and confidence were different. Major sect disciples carried more than talent. They carried better techniques, stronger inheritances, sharper training, and treasures that ordinary sect disciples might never touch.
Jian Wuchen moved first.
His sword did not leave its sheath immediately. His fingers only touched the hilt, but silver-blue sword Qi already spread across the street like cold lake water.
Chi Yao's flame ribbon rose at the same time.
The fire around her did not explode wildly. It coiled, condensed, and waited.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed faintly.
Good control.
Far better than Yan Chi.
Yan Chi's flames had been violent and devouring, strong but impatient. Chi Yao's fire was sharper. Proud, yes. Aggressive, yes. But controlled.
Jian Wuchen drew his sword.
The sound was soft.
The sword light was not.
A silver-blue arc cut forward.
Chi Yao stepped sideways, her red-gold robes fluttering as the flame ribbon swept out.
The sword Qi and flame ribbon collided.
A sharp cry rang through the street.
Half the lanterns nearby burst apart.
The crowd exclaimed and retreated again.
Fang Lin did not move.
His eyes followed the exchange closely.
Jian Wuchen's sword style was clean. Each strike carried cold sword Qi and water-like continuity. His attacks did not simply cut. They pressed, flowed, and guided the opponent into narrower choices.
Chi Yao's flame ribbon was flexible and dangerous. It wrapped around sword Qi, burned through weak points, and attacked from strange angles. Her footwork was light, but every step carried heat.
Another collision shook the street.
A formation line beneath the stone road lit up, preventing the ground from shattering fully. Even so, cracks spread like thin roots.
Fang Lin's gaze became deeper.
He began measuring them.
Not with arrogance.
With caution.
Jian Wuchen's current battle power had already surpassed ordinary Late Spirit Foundation cultivators. Chi Yao was the same. Against normal Spirit Foundation cultivators, either one could suppress several alone.
But compared to an ordinary Early Core Formation cultivator, they were still far away.
Half.
Perhaps around half. Since that was the strength when he had broken through, and was measured when you fought with Luo Cheng. Now, he had improved even further.
Their techniques could touch that threshold for brief moments, but their Qi reserves, pressure, and body stability had not crossed the true gap.
Fang Lin silently compared them to himself.
His true cultivation was Early Spirit Foundation Realm.
But his foundation was different.
Nine Nether Phantom Body.
Nether Life Spirit Qi.
Nine Abyss Shadow Scripture.
Abyssal Death Shadow.
Frost Trace Sword Art.
Soul Metamorphosis Technique at Late Stage Solid Soul State.
Black Mountain Suppression Art.
Mountain Bearing Frame.
The grey seed.
Cosmic energy.
All of it had stacked together until his battle power no longer matched his realm.
After entering Spirit Foundation and consolidating, after improving his soul, after learning the Black Mountain Suppression Art, Fang Lin estimated his current strength had reached roughly eighty percent of an ordinary Early Core Formation cultivator's combat power.
Not a true Core Formation cultivator.
Not yet.
A real Core Formation expert possessed a Spiritual Core, vast reserves, long-distance flight, and pressure that could crush weaker cultivators by realm alone. Fang Lin understood that clearly.
But among Spirit Foundation cultivators, even major sect geniuses like Jian Wuchen and Chi Yao stood around fifty percent of that level.
That meant Fang Lin was ahead.
Not slightly.
Clearly.
Around thirty percent higher on the same scale.
His fingers loosened quietly at his side.
A faint sigh of relief almost escaped him, but he suppressed it.
Good.
His efforts had not been wasted.
But the relief lasted only a breath.
He reminded himself immediately.
Power that could not be hidden was only another way to die.
Inside Rivercloud City, he could never reveal more than forty percent of his strength. Forty percent was already dangerous, but it could still be explained as a hidden rogue cultivator, a lucky inheritance, or a strong Spirit Foundation disguise if necessary.
More than that would draw eyes he did not want.
Sixty percent would alarm major sect disciples.
Eighty percent would make Core Formation elders move.
And if the Demon Sealing Ruins inheritance was connected to him, every power in the city would come with smiles, questions, and knives.
Fang Lin's expression remained dull.
But inwardly, his decision became firmer.
Never reveal more than forty percent unless survival demanded it.
On the street, the fight intensified.
Jian Wuchen's eyes sharpened.
"Lake Sword, Cold Moon Line."
His sword moved.
A thin silver-blue line crossed the air. It looked delicate, almost harmless, but the moment it appeared, the fire around Chi Yao was sliced apart.
Chi Yao's expression changed slightly.
Then she smiled.
"Scarlet Sun Burning Ribbon."
The flame ribbon around her wrist expanded, becoming a long red-gold arc. It wrapped around the incoming sword line and burned fiercely. The silver-blue light trembled, then burst apart in a wave of steam and sparks.
The crowd gasped.
Fang Lin's eyes moved faintly.
Technique names before attack.
Major sect disciples were not careless either. Their methods had rhythm, posture, and declaration. Not for show alone. Sometimes naming a technique focused intent, synchronized Qi, and warned allies of what was coming.
Chi Yao stepped forward.
"Sunfire Palm."
Her left palm struck out.
Golden-red flame condensed into a palm print and rushed toward Jian Wuchen's chest.
Jian Wuchen's expression remained cold.
"Lake Mirror Sword Guard."
His sword turned sideways, and a thin silver-blue barrier formed before him. The flame palm struck the barrier, spreading across it like fire over water.
The barrier cracked.
Jian Wuchen slid back two steps.
Chi Yao's eyes brightened with satisfaction.
"You moved."
Jian Wuchen looked down at the scorched edge of his sleeve.
His pride did not explode.
It sharpened.
"Then I will make you move as well."
His sword rose again.
This time, Fang Lin felt a subtle change.
Jian Wuchen's sword intent gathered more tightly.
Not enough to threaten a Core Formation cultivator, but enough to make many Spirit Foundation cultivators pale.
"Moon Lake Severing Sword."
A crescent of silver-blue sword Qi swept outward.
Chi Yao's expression became serious.
"Golden Sun Flame Screen."
Her flame ribbon spun before her, forming a bright circular screen. The crescent sword Qi struck it and cut halfway through before stopping.
The impact forced Chi Yao back three steps.
Her boots scraped against the stone.
The crowd erupted.
"She moved!"
"Jian Wuchen forced her back!"
"But she blocked the Moon Lake Severing Sword!"
"Blocked? She retreated!"
"Retreating is better than losing your head, fool!"
The noise rose.
Then another pressure descended from above.
Green-white light flashed across the street.
A Thousand Leaf patrol elder appeared in the air, his face dark with irritation.
"Enough."
His voice was not loud, but it carried Core Formation pressure.
The street fell silent.
Jian Wuchen and Chi Yao both withdrew their Qi, though neither looked satisfied.
The patrol elder's gaze swept over the cracked street, broken lanterns, and damaged formation lines.
Then his expression became colder.
"Again?"
Chi Yao looked away slightly.
Jian Wuchen sheathed his sword without speaking.
The patrol elder laughed once.
It was not a happy laugh.
"Five hundred low-grade spirit stones each for damaging public formations. Another two hundred each for disturbing trade. If you wish to continue, I can escort both of you to the city dueling platform and charge properly."
Chi Yao's lips tightened.
Jian Wuchen's eyebrow twitched.
Fang Lin almost smiled.
Even major sect geniuses could be defeated by city fines.
Chi Yao threw a small storage pouch to the patrol elder with clear annoyance. Jian Wuchen did the same, his expression cold enough to freeze hearts.
The patrol elder accepted both with practiced calm.
"Rivercloud City welcomes guests. It does not welcome unpaid repair work."
The crowd pretended not to laugh.
Some failed.
Chi Yao turned and left with her followers, her red-gold sleeves moving like fire. Jian Wuchen walked in the opposite direction, his sword aura already restrained.
The battle ended as suddenly as it had begun.
Fang Lin remained in the crowd for several more breaths.
His assessment was complete.
Major sect geniuses were strong.
Very strong.
But not beyond him.
That did not make him careless.
If one genius was fifty percent, then two together could threaten him. Three could force him to expose more. And if special treasures, formations, or Core Formation interference appeared, strength alone would not guarantee survival.
Besides, open battle was only one kind of danger.
Ning Shuang's shadow methods.
Yue Qingning's illusion and soul arts.
Luo Qianji's formations.
Kong Mingyuan's sealing talismans.
Su Lianxue's pills and possible poisons.
Each one could create trouble in a different way.
Fang Lin lowered his eyes.
He had enough information for now.
The Demon Sealing Ruins were the center of everything.
The key had awakened them once.
If the hidden realm opened again, he needed to understand the entrance, the patrols, the formation changes, and whether the ruins still responded to him.
He could not wait blindly in Rivercloud City.
He had to investigate.
Not enter openly.
Not reveal himself.
Only watch.
Fang Lin turned away from the crowd and walked into a side street.
After three turns, his figure became thinner beneath Shadow Breath. His face shifted subtly. Chen Yuan faded into another ordinary appearance: a younger herb gatherer with dull eyes and a bamboo basket on his back.
His aura dropped to Early Qi Conjunction Realm.
He moved toward the western gate.
The city was still noisy behind him.
Ahead lay the road to the Demon Sealing Ruins.
Fang Lin did not hurry.
Hurrying drew attention.
He walked with the slow caution of a low-level cultivator looking for herbs outside the city.
But beneath that ordinary shell, his mind was already sharp.
He needed to see whether the ruins were truly waking again.
He needed to know whether the key still mattered.
And if the major powers were coming, he needed to arrive before their eyes covered everything.
As he left Rivercloud City beneath the evening light, Fang Lin glanced once toward the distant valley.
His gaze was calm.
The ruins had called him once.
Now, the whole continent had begun to hear the echo.
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