Li Yang kept swinging his whip as the black stallion beneath him thundered through the snow-filled mist like a charging dragon. The terrain here was gentle and wide, blanketed in frozen snow, allowing the horse to gallop freely.
After leaving Zhao Linglong far behind, he finally saw figures ahead. Between two massive mountain ridges stretched a broad white expanse, where an enormous crowd of martial artists had gathered. Even from afar, his brows knit tightly together.
He gripped the reins with one hand and tucked the whip into his belt with the other. Then, pulling the long spear from his back, he spurred his horse forward again, like a lone general riding into an army of thousands—swift, unstoppable, fearless.
The closer he drew to the assembled sects, the darker his expression became. He hadn't expected that so many martial factions would gather just to attack Qingxiao Sect.
Though he had once lost to Wu Man'er and had personally witnessed Jiang Zhaoxia's strength, he still doubted Qingxiao Sect could stand against such overwhelming numbers.
Just then, he noticed figures leaping into the air at the back of the crowd. His heart sank—battle had already begun ahead.
"Outrageous!"
Li Yang roared furiously, but his voice was swallowed by the howling wind. None of the martial artists turned toward him. Their focus remained fixed on the fight.
The masters of the Seven Peaks Alliance, Qing Sect, and Iron Peak—dozens in total—had surrounded Yang Jueding. The rest stood watching from a distance. Many didn't dare join, and more simply didn't want to.
Yang Jueding moved like thunder, dodging the combined strikes of Bai He, Guang Lantian, and Zhang Songjing while striking back with his palms. The Nine Heavens Divine Palm exploded with force, sending waves of vital energy rolling through the snow. It swept up the ground like a raging dragon, knocking down one martial artist after another. His movements were fierce and commanding, every strike filled with unstoppable dominance.
"Dragon-Subduing Hero—his name is well earned! No wonder he was ranked among the top ten of the Heaven List by the prefecture!"
"If he had attended the last Martial Gathering, maybe Yu Zhiyi wouldn't have been crowned the number one!"
"Could it be he really obtained the legendary divine art?"
"His palm strength is terrifying. Even from here, I can feel it!"
"No wonder the three great sects brought so many men. If just Yang Jueding alone is this powerful, adding Jiang Zhaoxia to the mix makes the fight nearly impossible to win!"
"Look! That Qing Sect deputy looks like he's about to be beaten to death!"
The surrounding factions whispered among themselves. Some were vassals of the three great sects, while others—like the Ironbone Sect—were opportunists drawn by rumors, hoping to seize the divine art amid the chaos.
In truth, none of them had come simply to destroy Qingxiao Sect. They had come to fight each other for the treasure.
At that moment, Qing Sect's Deputy Leader Bai He was in the worst shape. His black robe was torn to shreds, his hair disheveled. Yang Jueding showed him no mercy, his attacks relentless.
Guang Lantian and Zhang Songjing, seeing the terrifying power of Yang Jueding's current strength, secretly began holding back. They dared not confront him head-on, instead choosing to exhaust his inner energy and wear him down through attrition.
They were now convinced that Yang Jueding had indeed acquired the divine art. They had once known his martial level well, and his recent progress was beyond reason—so extreme that only mastery of a mythical technique could explain it.
"Stop this at once!"
A furious shout echoed from behind. Guang Lantian and the others glanced briefly in that direction but didn't cease fighting.
Without any command, several martial artists broke off from the main group to block the oncoming rider—Li Yang.
Seeing them rush to stop him, Li Yang's anger exploded. He leveled his spear and charged, sending one man flying through the air. But the act drew more enemies toward him.
A short, stocky middle-aged man leapt from the crowd, seizing the reins of Li Yang's horse and yanking hard. The stallion lost balance, rearing sideways. Li Yang reacted quickly, leaping free just before the horse toppled.
The moment his boots hit the snow, dozens of weapons gleamed around him.
"What sect are you from?"
The short man stared coldly at Li Yang. Despite dragging a charging horse to a stop, he stood unharmed, radiating raw physical strength. Li Yang's grip on his spear tightened.
"I am Martial Champion Li Yang!" he shouted, voice booming. "Why have you gathered so many here? Are you rebelling against the Great Li Dynasty, defying the laws of the empire?"
Martial Champion!
A stir rippled through the crowd. Those who had attended the last Martial Gathering recognized him at once. The name spread from mouth to mouth, confirming his identity. Yet no one stepped back in fear—instead, mocking smiles spread across their faces.
Surrounded by hundreds, Li Yang felt the pressure close in. From a distance, it had seemed manageable, but standing in the midst of them was an entirely different experience. All around him stretched an ocean of heads and blades.
The short man sneered. "Martial Champion, if we were to kill you here, do you think the court would ever find out who did it?"
Li Yang's anger surged. He pointed his spear straight at the man. "Coward! Name yourself!"
The man cracked his neck and grinned. "Qing Sect Branch Master—Duan Tu."
As he stepped forward, the crowd's anticipation grew. Many smirked, whispering eagerly to one another, excited to see the famed Martial Champion in action.
Yang Jueding, still clashing with the three masters, noticed the commotion. His brows furrowed. 'This damned Martial Champion… what terrible timing.'
Yet he had clearly heard Li Yang's words—and understood that he had come to aid Qingxiao Sect. How could he ignore that?
With a shout, Yang Jueding struck forward. His right palm swept through the air, vital energy roaring like a dragon as it surged toward Li Yang's position, cutting through all obstacles.
Guang Lantian and Zhang Songjing exchanged a look and immediately moved to intercept, both unleashing full strength at last. Their palms struck simultaneously, colliding head-on with Yang Jueding's attack.
Snow exploded upward in a blinding white wave. The shockwave hurled dozens of onlookers off their feet, forcing even seasoned masters to retreat several paces.
Half an hour earlier, Yang Jueding had already spotted the approaching armies from the mountain. He had sent disciples back to warn the sect.
By the time he moved to assist Li Yang, the messenger had reached Lingxiao Pavilion—bursting in before Zhang Yuchun to report the crisis.
Zhang Yuchun's expression turned grim. Without hesitation, he ordered the disciples to gather and prepare for battle.
The Qingxiao Sect moved swiftly. Messenger disciples rushed across every training ground, spreading the alarm. Zhang Yuchun was the first to descend the mountain, summoning every martial disciple he passed along the way.
In one courtyard, Zhu Yan had just prepared her brushes and paper when she saw shadows darting past outside. Confused, she asked, "What's happening out there?"
Su Xiling immediately went to find out. She stopped a disciple rushing by, but he only shouted that the sect was under attack before running off down the mountain.
Su Xiling returned and relayed the news to Zhu Yan.
Zhu Yan frowned, puzzled. "Qingxiao Sect has always avoided worldly disputes. Why would anyone attack? And judging from the commotion, the enemy must be many."
Su Xiling didn't look surprised. She said casually, "That's normal, my lady. Haven't you noticed how many geniuses this sect has? No ordinary sect can have so many at once. Clearly, their sect's secret techniques are extraordinary. With Jiang Zhaoxia's fame spreading across the martial world, it was only a matter of time before greedy eyes turned this way."
Zhu Yan furrowed her brow tighter, losing all mood for painting.
"If my lady is worried, shall I go down the mountain to take a look?" Su Xiling asked with a teasing smile.
"Go," Zhu Yan replied with a nod.
Su Xiling bowed and departed immediately.
In another courtyard, Yan Lan sat on a stone bench, watching as Qingxiao Sect disciples hurriedly summoned Qin Ye away. He immediately understood what was happening below.
Looking down at the book in his hands, Yan Lan sighed softly. "The strife of the martial world is no less than that of the court. No one living in this realm can truly escape it."
Ku Yi stepped up beside him and asked, "Your Highness, should I go down and take a look?"
"Mm. Just mind your limits."
Yan Lan nodded lightly and returned his focus to the book.
Ku Yi lifted his silver staff and headed down the mountain. Ku Er remained seated cross-legged under a snow-laden tree, meditating to heal his internal injuries. He had yet to recover from the wounds inflicted by Li Qingqiu.
Snow blanketed the roofs, the entire mountain drowned in white silence. None of them knew that high above, on the cliff's edge, someone was watching them—Li Qingqiu.
He stood at the precipice, the wind tugging at his robes, his gaze calm yet thoughtful. Watching Su Xiling and Ku Yi descend the mountain, he pondered whether to take Zhu Yan and Su Xiling in as disciples.
As for Ku Yi and Ku Er, he had no such plans. The crown prince could not remain in Qingxiao Sect forever, and Li Qingqiu disliked unnecessary trouble. He would not keep royalty residing in his sect for long.
As for the battle below, Li Qingqiu felt little worry. He believed the current Qingxiao Sect had the strength to withstand the assault. Still, to prevent any unforeseen disaster, he decided to take a look himself—but only intervene if necessary.
The sect was still in its early stage of growth; losing even a single disciple would pain him deeply.
Just as he was considering his next move, a bright system message appeared before his eyes.
[ Because a disciple of Qingxiao Sect has destroyed a hostile faction opposed to your Dao Lineage, demonstrating the power of your Dao Lineage, you have gained 1 Dao Lineage Inheritance Reward. ]
Li Qingqiu's lips curved into a smile. He raised his hand to his mouth and whistled sharply. Vital energy surged with the sound, making it echo far across the mountains.
Moments later, a colossal shadow emerged from the swirling snowstorm. The wind roared violently, whipping Li Qingqiu's robes as the enormous creature approached through the mist.
Between the two mountains, the snowfield had turned into a bloodstained battlefield. Corpses and crimson streaks dotted the ground. Yang Jueding and Li Yang still fought on, separated by barely five zhang.
Compared to Yang Jueding, Li Yang looked far more battered. His long hair was loose and soaked in blood, his face cut and bruised, his chest drenched in dark red. His grip on the spear trembled, his speed and strength fading fast.
He thrust his spear forward, piercing through a martial artist's shoulder and flinging the man away. But that strike made him stumble—he barely caught himself by jamming the spear's butt into the snow, gasping for breath as he steadied his swaying body.
The three major sects still led the assault against them, while the smaller factions stayed on the outskirts, watching from afar.
By now, even some among the onlookers felt uneasy. That sympathy was directed entirely toward Li Yang.
"This Martial Champion's skill is incredible," someone whispered, "but he's refusing to kill. He's digging his own grave."
"Yeah. Look at Yang Jueding—he's holding nothing back. That's why he's still unscathed."
"Maybe Li Yang fears breaking the laws of the Great Li Dynasty."
"Surely they won't actually kill him here, will they?"
Murmurs rippled through the minor sects. Some were moved by Li Yang's restraint; others feared the chaos would draw the court's wrath.
After all, no matter how vicious the martial world was, murder among its own remained a matter of the jianghu. Everyone carried blood debts—who hadn't killed before? But if the government got involved, everyone would burn together.
They only wanted to seize the divine art—not make enemies of the empire.
Their concerns, however, mattered little to the three great sects. Enraged, their elites were determined to cut Li Yang down right here.
Yang Jueding was forced to fight on two fronts—blocking the combined assault of the masters around him while occasionally striking out to shield Li Yang. Without his interference, Li Yang wouldn't have lasted this long.
Barely catching his breath, Li Yang saw another group rush at him. He gritted his teeth and fought on, his arms numb, his spear drenched in blood.
At that moment, he truly felt what it meant to stand on a battlefield.
After earning the title of Martial Champion, he had once dreamed of joining the army. But his father had forbidden it, claiming his temperament was too soft to command soldiers. That was why Li Yang had come to temper himself in the martial world instead.
Now, surrounded by hundreds, he finally understood. Even against mere hundreds, he was already overwhelmed.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to face hundreds of thousands on an actual battlefield. The thought sent a chill deeper than the mountain wind through his bones.