"The four inner disciples I sent are all carefully chosen—cautious and well-prepared. Each carries talismans of concealment. The chance of them being discovered is almost nonexistent. Even if they were, would Fang Han dare to harm them? Maiming fellow disciples is a grave offense—punishable by crippling or even lifelong imprisonment. Perhaps they went underground and the paper crane message was delayed. No need to worry just yet."
Though Ye Tiannan spoke lightly to Fang Qingwei, inside, his mind raced with calculations and wariness.
But before his thoughts could settle, four paper cranes glided from the distant sky, circling him before descending gracefully.
"Finally, news!" Ye Tiannan exclaimed, his eyes brightening. He waved a hand, and the cranes unfolded midair, transforming into message slips covered densely with writing.
Fang Qingwei leaned close. The letters vividly described Fang Han's descent into the underground world—his battle with the Yaksha army, his panicked flight, his desperate escape from the Asura Warlord… every detail flawless and complete.
"Hahaha! Look at that—so much for Fang Han's so-called potential! Without the Seven Fiend Gourd, he's nothing special. Tell me, Qingwei, what do you want me to do to him during the Mountain and River Tournament? Should I cripple his cultivation? Or just his limbs?" Ye Tiannan laughed loudly, his mood soaring.
"In ordinary times," Fang Qingwei said coldly, "crippling or injuring one's sect-mates would bring severe punishment. But the Mountain and River Tournament is different—within the ring, wounds and death are permitted." Her eyes glittered like ice. "I don't want his life. I just want you to destroy his cultivation and make him live as a slave again. I'll let him understand what it means to wish for death. A servant who dares defy his master—our Fang family has always dealt with such insolence by steaming them alive."
"Excellent! Let's go see Senior Brother Wan Luo."
The two ascended toward Wanluo Peak.
Though not as grand as Tiandu Peak, Wanluo was still awe-inspiring—a colossal dragon-like staircase of stone rising through the clouds, leading to a cluster of palatial halls above.
Winter had come. Fallen leaves drifted in the mountain wind, painting the world in shades of decline. Yet Wanluo Peak was vibrant with life. Evergreen trees shimmered with vitality, mist rolled through ancient pines, waterfalls sparkled like flowing jade. Cranes spread their wings, white deer carried spirit herbs, and monkeys offered longevity peaches—a scene of celestial paradise.
"They say every tree on Wanluo Peak is nourished by liquefied elixirs," Fang Qingwei murmured in awe. "No wonder the mountain's life force never fades."
"Of course," Ye Tiannan said with pride. "Elixirs that ordinary disciples dream of are merely watering fluid to Senior Brother Wan Luo. Cultivating here is several times faster than anywhere else."
They climbed higher, the path long and steep. Ordinary disciples would have collapsed before halfway up, but the two, with their profound strength and endurance, reached the mist-veiled summit within an hour.
Before them stood a magnificent palace—Wanluo Hall, the abode of one of the Five True Disciples, Nan Wanluo.
In front of the palace stretched a massive plaza paved with slabs of sea-blue stone, smooth as mirrors and hard as iron. The deep azure shimmered like rippling water, filling the air with a cool oceanic aura. The plaza spanned ten full miles—vast enough to make the onlookers feel small and insignificant.
"This entire square was carved out by Senior Brother Wan Luo himself," Ye Tiannan explained. "He leveled the mountain peak, summoned ghostly laborers and divine spirits, and ordered them to transport these sea-blue stones from distant lands."
"What power!" Fang Qingwei's fists clenched unconsciously. "To command heaven and earth, to summon ghosts and gods with a single thought—that's the realm I'll reach someday."
Suddenly—clop, clop, clop!—the sound of hooves thundered across the plaza.
They turned to see dozens of disciples—inner and outer alike—leading massive warhorses.
These horses gleamed with a golden sheen, their manes shining like molten metal. Their breath surged from their nostrils like streams of steam, fierce and wild—dragons in equine form.
"These are the Xuanhuang Stallions of the Grand Profound Empire—under Taiyi Sect's command," Ye Tiannan said immediately. "It seems Senior Brother Cang is testing his mana."
Fang Qingwei's gaze fixed on the scene. The disciples mounted the seventy or eighty warhorses and, at a sharp cry, lashed their whips.
Boom!
The thunder of hooves shook the earth. The charge of the Xuanhuang cavalry was like a flood of molten gold, unstoppable and deafening.
Then, a tall young Taoist stood ahead of them, raising his hand. His fingers spread wide—
Hiss!Hiss!
A violent wind erupted, forming invisible cords that snared the charging horses mid-gallop!
No matter how fiercely they kicked or screamed, they couldn't move forward an inch.
"Down!" the Taoist shouted.
Boom!
Eighty-one golden stallions crashed to the ground, throwing riders and beasts alike into a heap.
To seize eighty-one charging Xuanhuang Stallions with mere willpower—this was true mastery!
These stallions were not ordinary beasts—they were the pride of the Grand Profound Empire, an empire of over a hundred billion souls that followed Taiyi's doctrine. Its currency, laws, and standards shaped the known world. A single Xuanhuang horse could run three thousand miles in a day, its charge capable of toppling walls.
Even executions by five-horse dismemberment used these beasts as the standard.
For cultivators, the Horse-Seizing Technique was the ultimate test of magical strength.
"My own body could barely withstand the pull of thirteen charging stallions," Ye Tiannan thought with awe. "Senior Brother Cang, who became a True Disciple two years ago, has advanced even further—he can now hold eighty-one! His mana is overwhelming!"
One step into the Divine Ability Realm, and one's power no longer grew by mere multiples—it exploded exponentially.
"Ah, Junior Brother Ye," the Taoist turned and smiled after his display. "Senior Brother Wan Luo awaits you in his alchemy chamber."
"Your power is astonishing, Senior Brother Cang," Ye Tiannan said respectfully. "I thought you had established your own peak already—what brings you here today?"
"It's nothing," Cang replied modestly. "My strength is trivial—Senior Brother Wan Luo could crush me with a single finger. I came merely to ask him for a few elixirs to further temper my mana. I'm on the verge of breaking into the Second Layer of the Divine Ability Realm. The stronger one's mana, the better." He turned to Fang Qingwei. "And you must be Junior Sister Qingxue's younger sister? When she returns from her cultivation in the Lesser Immortal World, I'll be sure to greet her properly."
"I'll tell my sister, Senior Brother," Fang Qingwei replied sweetly, knowing well when to flatter.
"Go on inside, both of you," Cang said with a wave.
Ye Tiannan and Fang Qingwei entered Wanluo Hall.
——
Meanwhile, in his secluded alchemy chamber, Fang Han sat cross-legged, mana roaring around him like a storm. The air trembled; invisible dragons and tigers formed and vanished within the swirling currents of power. The four inner disciples watching him could barely stand from the pressure.
Each of them could hold back seven or eight horses by strength alone—but before Fang Han, they knew one finger would be enough to crush them.
"Not bad," Fang Han said, stopping his cultivation. "Your talent for lying is impressive. Keep feeding Ye Tiannan false reports. Go now."
"Yes, Senior Brother Fang! We'll update you the moment he moves. He's currently visiting Wanluo Peak with Fang Qingwei."
The four bowed deeply and vanished into the shadows.
Fang Han looked toward the black void above his cauldron. "Yan, I'm curious—just how powerful is my mana now? How many stallions could I restrain?"
Yan's voice echoed faintly. "You've cultivated the Yama Golden Body. Your mana is far denser than that of ordinary Divine Ability cultivators. You could likely seize more than ninety Xuanhuang Stallions at once."
He paused, then added, "I just tested that Star Gathering Pill. It's safe to consume. A sacred medicine of the Starry Gate—it will push your mana to the strength of a hundred stallions. Two months remain until the tournament. Use that time to refine your power—make it deep and unshakable. Never underestimate your enemies."
"I won't," Fang Han said coldly. "The top contestants of the Mountain and River Ranking are no weaklings. Some wield powerful artifacts—perhaps even sacred weapons. Ye Tiannan visiting Wanluo Peak is surely seeking one."
He closed his eyes, mana churning once more. Since returning from the underworld, he had secluded himself completely—focused only on thickening his mana and solidifying his foundation.
"Yan," he asked suddenly, "just how strong is Hua Tiandu's mana?"
"Beyond measure," Yan replied solemnly. "It can't be compared to horses or numbers. He can shift mountains and drain rivers—his Heaven-Pan Strength Divine Art is famed for its depth of mana. If I had to quantify it… thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of times greater than yours. A cultivator at the Longevity Realm can, with a gesture, drain an entire river dry. The Yellow Springs Emperor could make the Dragon Abyss River vanish in an instant. That is true divine might."
Sensing Fang Han's silence, Yan added gently, "But remember—raw power isn't everything. Each advance in the Divine Ability Realm requires tremendous effort and cost. Even Fang Qingxue's rapid progress comes from extraordinary fortune—she carries secrets beyond imagination."
"So powerful, huh?" Fang Han murmured, his eyes burning with quiet resolve.
He knew then—his path was still long, and his ambitions had only just begun.