The voices that drifted down from the heavens were ethereal and distant, like whispers from celestial beings. As they faded, the swirling snow in the sky suddenly gathered and receded, revealing several figures descending through radiant light. The air filled with music—soft, divine notes that seemed to come from another world.
Men and women appeared within the cascading glow, dressed in flowing feathered robes and starry crowns. Rings of light surrounded them, shimmering like mirages. The fragrance of immortality seemed to accompany their every breath.
But Fang Han was not fooled by their divine aura. Beneath the illusion of serenity, he could sense the terrifying power coiled within each of them—power strong enough to crush him with ease.
These were the True Disciples of Yuhua Sect—
the true core of its immortal might.
Each of them could summon the winds and command the heavens.
Fang Han knew that to reach such a level, he would first have to become an inner disciple, then fight his way onto the Mountain and River Ranking, earn the sect's favor, and cultivate to the Divine Power Realm. Only then could he hope to join their ranks.
Among the radiant figures, one man stood out not because of grandeur—but because of simplicity. He wore an ordinary blue robe, the kind a mortal scholar might don. There were no golden lights or celestial rings around him, no visible aura of power.
Yet precisely because of that, he emanated an air of returning to the origin, of power so deep it no longer needed to show itself.
This was Hua Tiandu, the foremost True Disciple of Yuhua Sect, master of the Heaven's Capital Peak—the same man who had just frozen three thousand fiends and even a Demon King with a single move: "Snow Over Heaven and Earth."
"Greetings, Senior Brother Hua. Greetings, honored seniors…"
Every disciple, including the women of the Garan Society, bowed deeply. Their reverence surpassed that of ministers before a king.
For kings, power inspired respect.
But Hua Tiandu inspired awe.
He smiled faintly. "You have done well to endure the onslaught of so many demons. You honor Yuhua Sect with your resilience."
With a wave of his sleeve, the nine floating golden towers shrank and flew into his robe. The radiant shield they maintained vanished. The inner disciples who had been controlling them sighed in relief.
Normally, only outer disciples were tested in the Demon Battlefield, but due to the recent chaos, inner disciples had been sent in to protect them.
"You nine have done well," Hua Tiandu continued. "For your service, I shall each reward you with a Jiazi Elixir—it will extend your life by sixty years."
He flicked his fingers, and nine golden-white pills floated into the hands of the inner disciples. They immediately fell to their knees in gratitude.
"Sixty years of life… That's no ordinary gift," Fang Han thought. "He acts as though he's the Sect Master himself."
Another True Disciple chuckled. "Senior Brother Hua, you're too generous. Do you know how many rare herbs it takes to refine a single Jiazi Elixir? The Heaven's Capital Peak must truly overflow with wealth."
"Merely a small convenience of power and preparation," Hua Tiandu replied lightly, descending to the ground. "This trial's chaos was caused by demonic interference. But now that all fiends have been eradicated, you are all deemed to have passed. From this moment, you are inner disciples."
A wave of jubilation swept through the crowd. Many fell to their knees, tears in their eyes. Advancement to inner disciple meant new status, new privileges—a leap beyond anything in the mortal world.
Only Fang Han remained uneasy. Without the test, he had lost his chance to capture more demons for alchemy.
"But do not be in such a hurry to leave the battlefield," Hua Tiandu added calmly. "There are still some matters I must investigate."
The crowd immediately quieted, all eyes fixed on him. Then Hua Tiandu's gaze turned directly to Fang Han.
"You are called Fang Han, aren't you?"
Fang Han's heart lurched. Why him? He hadn't imagined someone like Hua Tiandu would even know his name.
"Fang Han, be careful," whispered Xu Yue'er, tugging at his sleeve. "Even Garan Master herself yields three steps to Senior Hua. The Grand Elders treat him like their equal."
"Yes," Fang Han managed, forcing calm into his voice. "I am Fang Han. What guidance does Senior Brother have for me?"
"That magic treasure on your person—the Seven Fiend Gourd. It was given to you by Junior Sister Qingxue, wasn't it?" Hua Tiandu's eyes were as sharp as blades.
Fang Han's pulse quickened. "Yes. It was bestowed upon me by Senior Sister Qingxue."
"You are bold indeed," Hua Tiandu's tone turned cold. "Not only do you wield demonic treasures, you dare to turn them upon your own fellow disciples. Do you think wearing Qingxue's favor allows you to act without restraint?"
His face darkened, and at once, the air grew cold. The sheer pressure made several nearby disciples shiver uncontrollably.
Xu Yue'er and Ye Yu froze, too afraid to speak in Fang Han's defense. Under Hua Tiandu's aura, even breathing was a challenge.
Fang Han's voice was steady but loud enough to echo: "I don't know how I have acted 'without restraint,' Senior Brother."
"Oh? You deny it?" Hua Tiandu's lips curved in a mirthless smile. "Left Junior Brother, step forward."
A man emerged from the ranks—Fang Han recognized him instantly. It was the inner disciple whose Spirit Wind Sword Fang Han had once seized in the Jade Dining Hall.
"Left Junior Brother," Hua Tiandu said softly, "where is your Spirit Wind Sword?"
"It was taken by him!" the disciple snarled, pointing straight at Fang Han. "That day, he fought with Prince Bao of the Great Virtue Dynasty. I tried to intervene, but he used his demonic gourd to steal my sword! Because of that, Sister Mo couldn't complete her Sixfold Sword Formation against the Red Dust Prince and was slain. All of it—his fault! He's a demonic spy!"
The accusation struck like thunder.
Fang Han's fists clenched. "You attacked first, trying to cripple me. My treasure reacted on its own and drew your sword away. You know that perfectly well."
But Hua Tiandu's expression remained unreadable.
"I have already confirmed the matter with Prince Bao," Hua Tiandu said. His gaze pierced Fang Han like a knife. "And there is more. Certain matters involving Junior Sister Qingxue will also be investigated when she leaves seclusion. For now, you—a mere outer disciple—have brought shame to Yuhua Sect with your arrogance and misuse of power. Do you wish the other nine immortal sects to laugh at us?"
At that, Fang Han's temper flared. "One gourd, and suddenly I tarnish Yuhua Sect's name? If Senior Brother Hua wishes to investigate, he can wait until Sister Qingxue emerges from seclusion. Until then, I'll answer to her."
A ripple of shock ran through the crowd. Even the True Disciples standing beside Hua Tiandu turned pale. No one had ever spoken to him that way.
"You dare—" one of them shouted, stepping forward.
But Hua Tiandu raised a hand, smiling coldly. "Let him speak. You think to shield yourself behind Qingxue's name? Very well. I won't bother pursuing this further. Leave the Seven Fiend Gourd here, return to your cultivation, and learn humility. Perhaps without such a toy, you'll develop the manners of an immortal disciple—rather than a half-demon disgrace."
"What?" Fang Han's eyes narrowed.
"Didn't you hear?" an inner disciple barked. "Senior Brother Hua told you to put down the gourd—and get out!"
Fang Han stood still. He could feel the eyes of hundreds on him, waiting to see if he would kneel or yield.
But deep inside, that old, bitter memory stirred—the memory of being a servant, kneeling to masters, enduring humiliation. He had crawled out of that life through pain and blood.
Now, standing before Hua Tiandu, he realized: to surrender the gourd was to surrender his dignity.
And that—he would not do.