The sky above Black Tortoise City had vanished.
In its place was a sprawling, terrifying canopy of spiritual ships, massive flying beasts, and streaks of blinding sword light. But it was not chaotic. Even in the sky, the strict political hierarchy of the Demon Immortal Continent was absolute.
To the north, a unified, oppressive front of golden light, crimson fire, and piercing sword intent dominated the clouds. This was the Self-Righteous Alliance—the Heavenly Sword Lake, the Scarlet Sun Palace, and the Demon Suppression Temple. Their auras pressed down on the city like a physical weight, forcing lesser cultivators to avert their eyes.
To the east, a massive armada of emerald leaf-ships, giant spirit beasts, and illusionary moon-barges floated in defiance. This was the Primal Faction—the Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect, the Ancient Beast Hall, and the Moon Reflection Valley. They did not project the same overbearing arrogance, but the sheer depth of their ancient, natural auras pushed back against the Righteous pressure flawlessly.
In a secluded alleyway near the merchant hall, a completely unremarkable, plain-faced rogue cultivator adjusted his coarse grey robes.
Fang Lin exhaled softly, ensuring his Phantom Transformation and Shadow Breath were perfectly synchronized. To the outside world, he was just another Early Core Formation rogue cultivator, a common face in the sea of thousands flocking to the event.
He stepped out of the alley and blended into the massive crowd surging toward the Star River Merchant Hall. He was here to watch the chaos he had created.
The interior of the Merchant Hall had been completely remodeled. The central exhibition floor was a vast amphitheater of white jade. In the absolute center, isolated by a triple-layered, ten-thousand-year frost jade array, sat the ten-foot-long obsidian mace.
Even through the array, the air warped and shimmered. The dull, magma-red characters—Ashen Anvil—pulsed with an ancient, terrifying heat.
"Incredible," a deep, booming voice echoed through the hall.
Fang Lin, standing near the back of the general admission crowd, looked up toward the VIP balconies.
A massive, muscular young man carrying a heavy shield on his back stood at the railing. It was Xuan Beihai, the legacy disciple of the Black Tortoise Mountain. In the ten years since the Demon Sealing Ruins, he had matured significantly, radiating the steady, heavy aura of an Early Core Formation expert.
Standing right beside him was the terrifying Sect Master of the Black Tortoise Mountain, an old man whose body looked as if it were carved from mountain granite. The Sect Master stared at the mace, his voice carrying a heavy weight. "Beihai, look closely. To compress that much mass into a single weapon, and perfectly seal a Volcanic Eruption domain within it... it's a masterpiece of structural violence. Only a true Grandmaster could balance that much internal pressure without the weapon detonating."
Xuan Beihai nodded slowly, his eyes practically glued to the mace. As the hosts of this city, the Black Tortoise Mountain, alongside the Pill Dawn Sect and Hundred Formation Tower, maintained a strict, neutral perimeter around the place.
"It lacks elegance," a cold, arrogant voice muttered from the northern balcony, spoken just softly enough to avoid disrespecting the Black Tortoise Sect Master.
A sharp, piercing sword intent sliced through the heavy atmosphere of the hall. Jian Wuchen of the Heavenly Sword Lake stood at the railing, his Mid Core Formation sword aura sweeping out like a tidal wave of invisible blades, carrying a bitter, freezing undertone. He looked at his own Sword Elder. "It is a brute's tool, Elder. Fit only for mindless slaughter."
"Do not insult what you cannot comprehend, Jian Wuchen," a musical, fiery voice shot back from the same Righteous balcony block. Chi Yao of the Scarlet Sun Palace stepped forward. Over the last decade, her fire affinity had reached terrifying heights, stabilizing at Mid Core Formation. Unlike Jian Wuchen's disdain, her eyes burned with absolute reverence as she looked at the mace. "The fire laws embedded in that obsidian are flawless. Whoever this Ashen Anvil is, their understanding of destruction surpasses many grandmasters."
"Amitabha."
A solemn chant washed over the hall, immediately suppressing the argumentative auras. From the central Righteous balcony, Elder Kong Jian, an Late Spirit Manifestation powerhouse of the Demon Suppression Temple, stepped forward. Behind him walked Kong Mingyuan, gripping his staff tightly, now at Mid Core Formation. They cast judgmental glares across the hall, specifically stopping at a dark, isolated balcony where Ning Shuang and the assassins of the Silent Night Pavilion stood in absolute silence.
The Righteous Alliance's oppressive aura began to flood the place, trying to establish dominance.
"Your golden light is blinding, Kong Mingyuan. Have the decency to dim it indoors."
A calm, resonant voice shattered the righteous pressure. On the eastern balconies, the Primal Faction made their presence known. Ye Qinglan of the Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect stepped to the edge, her Mid Core Formation life-aura soothing the oppressive atmosphere. Beside her, Gu Man of the Ancient Beast Hall let out a low, feral growl, while Yue Qingning of the Moon Reflection Valley watched the Righteous faction with cold, illusionary eyes.
Fang Lin watched from the back of the place, a faint, hidden smile tugging at his disguised lips. Ten years ago, some of these people had been his deadly rivals in a brutal ruin, while others, like Ye Qinglan and Gu Man, had become unexpected allies. Now, they were all gathered here, fully entrenched in their political alliances, staring in awe at something he had forged using the Ashen Crucible. If they knew that it was 'Shen Mo's who had forged that weapon. They might just faint out spurting blood from their mouths. The Fang Lin Shen Mo who many of them were searching for a long time is already a Grand Domain Smith.
"Make way! Make way!"
A sudden commotion at the Primal Faction's entrance drew the crowd's attention. A group of cultivators wearing emerald green robes strode into the hall, radiating an incredibly sharp, rising momentum.
At the front was Elder Feng, his aura fully blooming at the Spirit Manifestation Realm. Beside him, wearing a veil but radiating the terrifying, compressed heat of a Late Core Formation expert, was Feng Jiu'er.
The Green Bamboo Sect had arrived.
They moved directly toward the Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect's balcony. Feng Jiu'er and Ye Qinglan exchanged warm, sisterly nods, instantly solidifying the Green Bamboo Sect's position as a powerful subordinate ally to the Thousand Leaf giant.
Feng Jiu'er stopped at the railing, her beautiful eyes locking onto the massive obsidian mace. Her bamboo-fire Qi resonated slightly with the volcanic heat trapped inside the weapon.
"A flawless creation," Elder Feng murmured, stroking his beard. "Jiu'er, if we could acquire this..."
Feng Jiu'er shook her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over the oppressive Righteous balconies. "We brought the sect's treasury, Elder Feng. But against the Heavenly Sword Lake and Scarlet Sun Palace... I fear our wealth will not be enough. We will stand with Senior Sister Ye."
Suddenly, a harsh, grating laugh echoed from a dark corner of the upper balcony. An old man dressed in ragged, patchwork robes stepped forward. He looked like a beggar, but the aura rolling off him was at the Peak of Spirit Manifestation, carrying the thick stench of blood and countless stolen treasures.
"Old Monster Gui!" someone in the crowd gasped in horror. "The Blood-Hand Rogue! What is a wanted lunatic doing here?!"
Old Monster Gui ignored the screams of the crowd, picking his ear callously. He stared directly at the Self-Righteous faction. "Save your breath, you sect hypocrites! This old man has recently come into a massive fortune, and I'm taking that mace home today! Anyone who bids against me better watch their backs when they leave the city!"
The major sect elders sneered in contempt. The Heavenly Sword Lake elders looked ready to draw their swords on principle alone, but a few of the sharper minds narrowed their eyes. Old Monster Gui was notoriously wealthy, yes, but he was also incredibly cowardly when facing major sects. For him to act this brazenly... someone massive was backing him.
Down in the crowd, Fang Lin crossed his arms, instantly seeing through the farce. The Star River Merchant Alliance wouldn't let their own masterpiece leave their hands if they could help it. They had definitely hired a notorious person such as Old Monster Gui as a proxy to buy the weapon back with their own funds. Not only him, many of them understood this at the same time just be looking at his subordinates who looked more like merchants.
The crowd continued to swell as more medium-tier sects, rogue cultivators, and hidden experts filtered into the massive hall. The atmosphere grew heavier by the minute. The Grand Preview was far from over, and everyone could feel the tension stretching to a breaking point.
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