The throats of the four inner disciples quivered with strangled sounds, like chickens being gripped by the neck. For cultivators of their level, choking from surprise was unthinkable—but what they saw was beyond belief.
"Di…vine… Abil…ity… Realm…"
One of the more seasoned disciples, stronger than the others, managed to steady his breathing. His voice came out broken, trembling, as he looked from Fang Han to the enormous handprint gouged into the stone floor.
That pressure, that effortless release of power—it wasn't a spell, nor the force of a weapon. It was pure mana. Real, living divine energy.
Yuhua Sect's inner disciples were no fools; their eyes were sharp. Many had spent their lives chasing this very realm—how could they not recognize it? Every year, True Disciples who had attained the Divine Ability Realm would demonstrate their power before the inner sect. These disciples had seen it before—but never this close, and never from someone who, until recently, was one of them.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Do you know how hard it is to reach the Divine Ability Realm? You can't just leap into it—it's a one-step ascension, beyond mortal reach!"
Their cries weren't hysteria—they were despair. What they had spent years, even decades striving toward, Fang Han had achieved before their eyes. Their ambition cracked under the weight of that reality.
"Hmph! Did you think I'd challenge Hua Tiandu without any real foundation?"
Fang Han slammed his hand down on the armrest. He didn't even use mana this time, yet the heavy oak cracked under the raw strength of his body. The sudden sound made the four disciples flinch.
They remembered now—this was the man who had publicly challenged Hua Tiandu. They had all thought him ridiculous, a fool reaching for the sun. But now that he stood among the Divine, who could still laugh?
True, the gap between Fang Han and Hua Tiandu was still vast. But that first impossible step—crossing the boundary between mortal and divine—was enough to make every cultivator in the sect turn their head. His status had shifted, sharply, irreversibly.
And more than that—he had connections.
The four turned their gazes to Nebula Baby, the son of the Starry Gate's sect master. That alone spoke volumes. Fang Han wasn't just strong; he was backed by powers beyond Yuhua Sect itself. For the first time, real fear filled their eyes.
They understood: this was someone who could no longer be opposed. Even Ye Nantian would regret ever provoking him.
Their defiance melted away like snow under sunlight. Even if they tried to complain to the elders, who would listen? Between a True Disciple in the Divine Ability Realm and a few inner disciples, even a pig could tell which side mattered more.
They were strong—body refined through the tenth layer of mortal cultivation, just a step from the Divine—but that single step was an abyss most would never cross.
"Senior Brother Fang," one finally said, lowering his head. "What… what do you want us to do?"
"Simple." Fang Han leaned forward, his voice calm but edged with command. "You'll work for me. Find out everything you can about Ye Nantian—his backers, his plans. I've heard he serves under Senior Brother Wan Luo. You'll report quietly to me. To everyone else, you'll remain Ye Nantian's men. In truth, you'll be mine. Double agents. Understood?"
The four exchanged uneasy glances.
The great sect had five power poles: Central Tiandu, Eastern Lingxiao, Western Jialan, Northern Yaoguang, and Southern Wan Luo. Each True Disciple ruled a faction that stretched deep into the inner and outer sects. From Princess Hongyi, Fang Han had already learned Ye Nantian's allegiance lay with Wan Luo's camp.
"B-but—" one began.
"No 'buts,'" Fang Han cut him off, flicking his finger. "You have only one path forward. And I don't treat those who serve me poorly. Here—these four Wind Demon Blades, trophies from a battle with a white-haired corpse demon. Take them. Consider it your initiation."
The weapons floated into their hands, gleaming with a sinister black light. The four disciples exchanged another round of wary looks but bowed quickly.
"We understand, Senior Brother Fang. We wouldn't dare disobey."
"Good. But understand this—I don't place blind trust in anyone."
He raised his hand, and four streaks of golden light shot into their foreheads, sinking into their spiritual seas.
"This is a rather vicious divine technique," Fang Han said coolly. "Should any of you betray me, one thought from me will reduce you to idiots. If you doubt it—feel free to test it."
It was, of course, the Emotion-Sealing Talisman.
The four disciples trembled violently. The moment they felt the rune burrow into their minds, their rebellion vanished.
"We—we wouldn't dare betray Senior Brother!" they stammered.
"Good. Go now. Meditate in the next chamber. When it's time to return to Yuhua Sect, I'll bring you up." He turned to the Demoness. "Fang Xiaolin, take them to their quarters."
"Yes."
Her eyes flickered with a strange light. Now that Fang Han stood in the Divine Realm, she no longer harbored any thoughts of defiance.
Everything was falling into order.
Over the next few days, Fang Han remained in the underground fortress, honing his control over mana, refining his divine power, and re-tempering the Sound-Killing Demon Blade. With each ritual, the weapon's edge grew deadlier, nearly impossible for anyone else to claim.
"Yan," he asked inwardly, "what divine ability should I cultivate next? Does the Netherworld Sect have a technique like Instant Kill—swift, precise, no wasted motion?"
"You can't learn any new divine arts yet," the spirit replied. "Your current power must be deepened, not divided. Before the Fifth Layer—the Human-Heaven stage—you may cultivate only one divine ability. Mix energies, and you'll destroy yourself. Wait until you're recognized as a True Disciple; learn one of Yuhua Sect's divine arts to mask your identity. When you reach Heaven-Man Unity, I'll teach you the secret methods of the Netherworld Sect—how to forge the Great Golden Core of Divine Ability, the most mysterious seed of power under heaven. When that time comes, even the Yellow Springs River will bend to your will—and Hua Tiandu himself may fall before you."
"I see. Mixing the Netherworld arts with Yuhua's would be suicide. For now, I'll focus on pure mana." Fang Han nodded slowly.
Then his gaze shifted. "Fang Xiaolin—come here."
The Demoness approached swiftly.
"How far from this vein lies the next mine? Any powerful guardians nearby?"
"You're not thinking of attacking another mine, are you?" she said, startled. "That would be suicide! You'd alarm the Demon Council. The Asura Elders' power is a hundred times greater than mine!"
Fang Han's eyes flickered. "Fine. No need to be reckless. Better cautious for ten thousand years than dead tomorrow. We'll return to Yuhua Sect and prepare for the Mountain and River Tournament. The champion's divine artifact will be mine."
"What about Nebula Baby?" Princess Hongyi asked. "He keeps saying he wants to explore. If something happens to him, it'll be trouble."
"Then we should send him back to Starry Gate," Fang Han said after a pause. "That's safest."
"I'm not going back! I'm not going back!" Nebula Baby cried—but before anyone could respond, his Sun and Moon Five-Star Bracelet began to pulse with starlight, flashing and chiming.
His face went pale.
"Oh no… my mother's coming!"