"Ten flying swords… can they really be fused into those Flying Yakshas?" Fang Han asked. "You haven't reached the Fifth Realm of Divine Powers—you can't lay spirit arrays or refine artifacts yet."
Without the Seven Fiend Gourd, he had nothing but his body to rely on. He urgently needed a new way to defend himself.
"I may not be able to wield the full array within them," Yan replied slowly, his tone calm yet darkly pleased, "but I can repair and modify their outer formations. Once these swords are embedded into the Yakshas' bone spikes, their power will surge. They'll move as extensions of the blade—sword and body as one, slashing with every motion, their strikes bursting with sword-qi.
"This was once a great art of the Yellow Springs Gate—the Demonic Sword Puppet. It doesn't require you to enter the Divine Power Realm. All it takes is strong enough spirit and willpower to influence their consciousness. Then, you can forge these killing puppets yourself—ruthless and precise, instruments of slaughter fit to restore the glory of my demonic empire!"
Yan's voice carried a faint pride, as if teaching Fang Han the lost knowledge of a forbidden art.
"I must reach the Divine Power Realm soon," Fang Han muttered. "Only as a True Disciple will I have the strength to rival Hua Tiandu." He paused, then asked, "Senior Sister Jialan mentioned that Hua Tiandu inherited an ancient legacy from someone called Panwu Immortal Sovereign, who mastered the 'Panwu Divine Strength Art.' His power's said to be boundless. Do you know of him?"
"What?" Yan's voice darkened. "Panwu Immortal Sovereign?"
There was a long silence before he continued, sounding almost resentful. "If Hua Tiandu truly inherited Panwu's lineage… then defeating him will be extremely difficult. Panwu was one of the Nine Supremes of the ancient age—he cultivated even before the Great Demon Emperors. He transcended the mortal world and became an immortal long ago, entering another realm entirely.
"Before ascending, he left behind his teachings—the Panwu Divine Strength, a supreme cultivation of pure might. Those who train in it crush their enemies through sheer power; few in any era can rival them. Forget it—I'll say no more. It might shake your confidence."
Fang Han sneered. "Nothing can shake me. My confidence is like the sun and moon in the sky, like rivers on the earth—unmoved. Cultivation depends on the person, not the method. Even if Hua Tiandu gained that so-called 'Gate of Eternity' you speak of, it won't extinguish my faith."
Then he exhaled slowly. "Come. Once I claim my inner disciple rewards, we'll return and train. This trip to the Demon Battlefield was a great harvest. When I step into the Divine Power Realm, we'll see who laughs last."
Yan chuckled approvingly, though his tone carried a tinge of regret. "If only that Great Weide Demon King hadn't been taken by Hua Tiandu. Refining it into pills would've been magnificent."
Indeed, during the battle, Hua Tiandu's single technique—Snow Encompasses Heaven and Earth—had frozen thousands of demons, including that mighty Demon King. But when Hua Tiandu departed, all those demons vanished with him, likely taken as spoils.
Passing through the ancient stone gate, Fang Han returned to the Inner Immortal Court of the Yuhua Sect. Disciples who had passed the assessment were already back, murmuring excitedly. When they saw Fang Han, though, whispers spread like wildfire. Fingers pointed. Smirks followed him.
His challenge to Hua Tiandu had become a sensation—an explosive topic throughout the sect. Even the half-Elder examiners now looked at him as though he were cursed, carefully avoiding eye contact.
Ignoring them, Fang Han walked straight to the distribution hall to receive his new items: an exquisite Spirit Sword, several talismanic seals, and a yellow Windwalking Cloth Vest. Intricate patterns of air swirled across its surface; tied around the legs, it allowed one to run as if borne by the wind, covering thousands of miles a day without fatigue.
He also received a flock of message paper cranes, a stack of Vajra Seals, and a Diving Talisman—when placed in the mouth, it let the user breathe underwater by absorbing spiritual essence.
These spiritual talismans, far more advanced than the five simple charms outer disciples received, were tools both practical and powerful.
More valuable still were a bottle of restorative elixirs and a Water-Fire Robe—a defensive garment that could resist blades, repel fire, and keep its wearer buoyant even in floods.
As for the spirit sword, Fang Han paid it little mind. His old sword, reforged by Fang Qingxue and infused with violet lightning, was more than enough—it lacked only the ability to fly autonomously.
The elder handing him the supplies eyed him for a long moment before speaking flatly: "Your new quarters are within the Inner Court. This is your residence token—trespassing on others' property without consent is a violation of sect rules.
"Each month, you'll attend the Hall of Transmission for three days. There, Elders from the Heavenly Palace will teach you the cultivation methods of Yuhua Sect and guide you toward the Divine Power Realm. Understood?"
Fang Han merely nodded once. "En."
He turned to leave—only to hear a mocking voice.
"Well, well, if it isn't Fang Han, the reckless fool himself."
A young man stepped forward, smirking, with none other than Fang Qingwei by his side. She now wore her own Water-Fire Robe, clearly having advanced to inner disciple as well. Her face glowed with vindictive delight.
Fang Han's eyes narrowed. "And you are?"
"Ye Nantian," the man replied lazily. "Didn't you once claim to be Qingwei's fiancé? Said you'd beat any man who dared approach her? Well, here I am. Should I be worried?
"Oh wait—you even dared defy Senior Brother Hua. Truly fearless in your ignorance. Tell me, how does it feel to have your Seven Fiend Gourd taken from you?"
Fang Han studied him quietly. Ye Nantian's presence radiated strength—muscular, grounded, his spirit condensed to the edge of transformation. He was likely stronger than Fang Han in both body and cultivation. A formidable inner disciple indeed.
"You can test whether I'm truly ignorant," Fang Han said evenly, his voice calm as still water.
Ye Nantian grinned. "Gladly. In a few months, during the new Mountains and Rivers Ranking, I'll be waiting for you. I'm ranked third, by the way—you can call me Senior Brother Ye. Though without your gourd, I doubt you'll even qualify."
He turned with a laugh. "Come, Qingwei."
Fang Qingwei paused, her voice dripping with disdain. "Fang Han, you'll always be a servant. Nothing will ever change that."
Fang Han's eyes stayed cold. "Ye Nantian, third on the ranking? In a few months, you won't be."
He walked away without looking back.