Fang Han unleashed his iron fist with the strength of ten horses — raw, violent, and unstoppable. His steps flowed with a strange rhythm, shrinking the distance between them in an instant. It was not true teleportation, but for a mortal body, it was close to perfection — a mastery of flesh that bordered on divine.
Clang!
The young man beside Fang Qingwei sensed the lethal intent too late. He instinctively reached for his sword, half-drawing the gleaming blade — but that was as far as he got. Fang Han's fist tore through the air like a thunderclap. It smashed into the young man's arm with a bone-snapping crack, sending him hurtling backward, blood spraying as he hit the ground.
"What—!"
"Damn it!"
"Kill him!"
The others shouted in alarm. A few rushed to the fallen youth's aid, channeling spiritual energy into talismans to heal him, while the rest drew their blades, forming a half-circle around Fang Han.
Fang Qingwei's face turned pale. She, too, drew her sword with a cold glint in her eyes.
Fang Han only laughed. His voice thundered through the courtyard — a laugh full of scorn and dominance. Then, in one fluid motion, he launched into Night Battle Across Eight Directions, a move so swift and fierce that every onlooker saw only a blur of motion and the gleam of iron fists descending like meteors.
In that instant, each opponent felt alone — isolated in a void where only Fang Han's crushing power existed.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A flurry of impacts followed, echoing like drumbeats of war. One breath later, everyone staggered back, faces ashen, blood churning, nearly vomiting from the shockwave.
Even Fang Qingwei couldn't withstand the blow. Her sword flew from her hand, embedding itself in the ground with a metallic thud. She stared at Fang Han in disbelief.
"Your martial power… how could it be this strong?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
That single exchange said everything. Fang Han's physical strength, speed, and explosive power surpassed them all — it was a display that bordered on monstrous.
He remembered the desert, where the Evil Moon Prince had wielded his crescent blade and nearly slaughtered them all. Even then, Fang Han had felt powerless before that speed. Now, he had become that very storm — even stronger.
The crowd stood frozen. These so-called elite disciples, once proud of their strength, now looked fragile before him. Only those ranked on the Mountain and River List, the top inner disciples, could hope to stand against him.
"Anyone else want to try?"
His voice cut through the air like a blade. No one dared to meet his gaze. His presence crushed their spirits like an invisible weight.
Even Fang Qingwei, who had once dismissed him as nothing more than her sister's pet servant, now stood silent — humbled, even afraid. She had always been gifted, her progress accelerated by countless treasures from admirers within the sect and beyond. But she had never met someone who could utterly eclipse her like this.
Then came a groan. The young man Fang Han had struck down stirred, coughing blood but forcing himself upright. "I… am the Young Island Master of South Sea's Sleepless Island," he said through clenched teeth. "May I have the honor of knowing your name? You've struck me today — I will repay it in full another time."
Fang Han's lips curved in disdain. "Sleepless Island? Never heard of it. I thought you were from the Ten Great Immortal Sects — perhaps the Ten Thousand Returns Island." He smirked. "You already know my name. And since you've heard it, remember it well. If you want revenge, you'll need the strength to back it up."
Then, turning to Fang Qingwei, his tone turned mocking. "Come on. Time to head for the Demon Battlefield. Don't worry — I'll 'take care' of you. Just as your sister instructed."
"Liar!" Fang Qingwei snapped, her chest heaving. "My sister would never say that. I'd rather marry a dog than you! Don't delude yourself, you filthy toad."
Fang Han chuckled. "Maybe I'm no toad, and you're no swan. But whether you marry me or not isn't up to you. When I become a true disciple, perhaps I'll show you mercy. Until then, stay away from other men. You carry my name now — don't disgrace me. The next time I see a man flirting with you…" His eyes glinted. "…I'll crush him. Just like that."
He laughed again — deep, arrogant, unrestrained — and strode into the depths of Sky Courtyard.
Fang Qingwei trembled with fury, stamping her foot. The crowd of disciples who had gathered to watch whispered among themselves, both thrilled and terrified. Few dared intervene — not with Fang Han's raw power on display, and not with Fang Qingwei's sister being the infamous true disciple, Fang Qingxue.
"Since when did the outer sect produce a monster like that?"
Two figures stood apart from the crowd, watching quietly. Their bearing marked them as inner sect elites.
"That's Fang Han," one said. "Fang Qingxue's protégé. It seems she's gone all in, grooming him to become a true disciple. They say she even gave him a magic treasure — one that can absorb other spiritual weapons. Once he passes the trial, he'll be a contender for the Mountain and River List."
"Is that so?" The other man smiled, his eyes sharp. "I like contenders. Without competition, life's boring."
With a low laugh, he stepped forward.
"Ah! It's Senior Brother Ye!"
"Ye Nantian — ranked third on the Mountain and River List!"
"Why is he here?"
"Maybe he's come to check out the new blood…"
Fang Qingwei looked up, startled but pleased.
"That Fang Han said he'd strike down any man who approaches you," Ye Nantian said with an easy grin. "Well, I don't believe in curses. Allow me to test his resolve. You don't mind, do you, Junior Sister?"
Fang Qingwei's lips curved in a cold smile. "To be friends with Senior Brother Ye is my honor. As for Fang Han — I'll make sure my sister hears of his insolence."
"Good. Take this." Ye Nantian produced a six-sided talisman that shimmered like falling snow.
"This… this is a Spirit Artifact — a Purifying Snow Charm!" Fang Qingwei gasped, feeling her mind clear as she held it.
Ye Nantian smiled faintly. "Keep it with you in the Demon Battlefield. It will protect your spirit from corruption — ensure your safe return. When you make it back as an inner disciple, I'll host a feast in your honor. As for Fang Han…" His voice dropped to a lazy drawl. "Let's see what he can really do."