My sect master… actually came here himself to save me?
A surge of suspicion flashed through Fang Han's mind. This doesn't add up. I'm a true disciple, yes—but nowhere near important enough for the Sect Master to personally tear open the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion. Huatiandu maybe… but me? Unless…
His heart tightened.
Unless the secret of the Yellow Springs Diagram has leaked.
Fang Qingxue had long suspected him. The elders had been sniffing around as well. If they believed he carried a heaven-defying treasure, then yes—maybe the Sect Master himself would act.
Even so, freedom was freedom. Trapped here, death was only a matter of time.
He weighed the risks for a heartbeat longer, then raised his voice:
"I am Fang Han! I'm alive!"
A calm, resonant voice drifted through the turbulent chaos outside the hall.
"Good. Don't overthink it. I'm not rescuing you for the Yellow Springs Diagram. A true disciple's fate is part of his own immortal path. If fortune gave it to you, then it is yours. Since you are of Yuhua Sect, the sect will shield you from calamity. And in the future, you must do the same—protect your juniors. Such is the foundation of a great immortal sect."
Hearing this, Fang Han felt the last knot in his heart loosen.
A giant of the Longevity Realm had no reason to lie to him. He believed it.
"Thank you, Sect Master. As a disciple of Yuhua Sect, I will serve the sect with all my strength."
"Good. You've risen quickly and carry great destiny. I'm curious to meet the disciple who even the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion failed to kill. Now, quiet your mind. Soon I will tear open a crack in the restriction. You will have one chance—only a fraction of a blink. If you miss it, you will never leave. My arts cannot penetrate the great hall directly. I can only create the opening."
Fang Han's breath tightened. His gaze locked on the roiling chaos outside the hall.
One chance. A thousandth of a blink. Miss it, and I die here.
Outside, the booming shocks grew so deafening they blurred into a constant roar. Months passed. During this time, Fang Han seized the opportunity to cultivate the Great Shattering Art—one of the most vicious demonic arts in existence.
When Yuhua Sect's Sect Master clashed with the Immortal Mansion, the surrounding space fractured again and again. Razor-sharp spatial currents spilled into the hall like invisible storms.
Perfect material for training a spatial cutting art.
The Great Shattering Art was notoriously difficult. Even a Golden Core expert would need decades of meditation to grasp its essence. But Fang Han devoured spatial power as if starved.
He didn't reach mastery—but he reached small success. With a flick of his finger, thin black lines rippled through the air, curling like deadly musical notes—each stroke capable of severing spirit, flesh, or soul.
Not a crude imitation like before. These were true strokes of a Heavenly Demon Supernatural Power—genuine demonic magic that sliced space itself.
Meanwhile, far beyond the mortal world…
A silent, desolate expanse of dead stars floated in the void—until suddenly, it seethed with life.
Tens of thousands of fiendish beings—celestial demons—swarmed between the stars. Massive demon kings, each a walking calamity, hovered like dark suns. More demons streaked across the void, drawn by a power that made the entire region feel like a newly awakened demon realm.
Then—
BOOM.
A world-shattering power tore open the fabric of space. The void split like paper, revealing a colossal rift. Spatial storms roared out in a thousand-mile torrent, shredding tens of thousands of demons into pure essence.
The remaining demons scattered in terror.
The demon kings assembled, forming a ceremonial procession. A deep, guttural chant—ancient and chilling—echoed from their throats.
From the rift stepped a towering silhouette.
Three meters tall.
Perfect build.
Handsome face framed by flowing red hair that flickered like flames.
A robe of living fire draped over him.
Pure, scorching yang energy radiated from his body.
A demon who burned with the power of the sun.
Every demon king dropped to one knee midair.
"We greet the Nine Suns Demon God!"
A demon god—one of the supreme rulers of the demon race. A being on par with an immortal of the Longevity Realm.
"Seven-Leaf is dead?" he asked immediately. "Killed in the Flesh-and-Blood Mire? His Blood Sky Sabre stolen?"
"Y-yes, Demon God! The killer was a Yuhua Sect disciple—Fang Han. He is currently trapped inside the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion. The Yuhua Sect Master is attempting to rescue him—"
"I already know."
The Nine Suns Demon God's voice was quiet, but the void quivered.
"He killed my nephew and ruined the Flesh Mire. I will not forgive him. And I'm curious to see whether Yuhua's Sect Master's Dao arts surpass my demonic might."
He turned his gaze on the assembled demon kings.
"Gather every demon. Enter the Void Gate. Go to the Xuanhuang World. There, you will meet the Primordial Demon Emperor, Ying Xiantian. He will hide you, feed you, prepare you. Three years from now, during the Grand Assembly of the Ten Immortal Sects… I will send my decree. Until then—obey."
"Yes, Demon God!"
The Nine Suns Demon God nodded once, tore open another spatial gate, and stepped through.
Inside the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion…
The rumbling suddenly stopped.
Fang Han's senses sharpened into a razor's edge.
A thin line of light—so faint it was almost imaginary—pierced the chaos outside the hall.
"Now!"
Fang Han unleashed all his strength.
The Five Prisons King Cauldron roared to life beneath him.
He shot forward like an arrow loosed from the heavens—
Straight toward the crack in reality.