Author note: Sorry for the late update. I have been extremely busy lately, and I hope you continue to support my stories.
This is a longer chapter than usual for you guys, as an apology to you. I hope you like it.
(Please guys, don't forget to comment, review, and encourage me with power stones.)
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In Rou's Dwelling
In the soft light of dawn, Mei moved gracefully through the dwelling, her hands sweeping lightly over the floor as dust motes danced like tiny spirits in the morning sun. Xiu and Ya busied themselves nearby, yet their eyes kept darting toward her, noticing something different.
Xiu finally could not contain his curiosity. She leaned on the wooden railing, eyes narrowing with surprise. "So, Mei… you seem unusually cheerful today. Has something happened?" Her voice carried a faint undertone of disbelief, as she never seen Mei this cheerful before.
Mei's cheeks flushed a deep crimson at Xiu's question, and she instinctively lowered her gaze. Ya, ever mischievous, couldn't suppress her giggle.
"Oh? So it seems our little Mei forgot to tell you, Xiu," Ya teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Last night… our dear Mei had quite the… memorable evening with Young Master Ye."
Xiu froze for a moment, her brows knitting together in confusion and disbelief, while Mei's blush deepened, almost as if the heat of her embarrassment could rival the sun itself.
Xiu's eyes widened as he took in Mei's flushed face, her cheeks burning like the embers of a forge. Without warning, he reached out and grasped her shoulder firmly. "By the heavens, Mei! I never imagined you have this kind of… courage," she exclaimed, his voice sharp with excitement. "You will tell us everything—every single detail! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Mei's breath caught, a shiver of embarrassment and thrill running through her, while Ya leaned closer, her grin spreading like wildfire. The air around them seemed to hum with anticipation, as if the world itself paused, waiting for Mei's response.
Mei nodded in shyness to them and started telling them everything that happened between her and Ye Feng.
_______
With Fu
After class, Fu's steps were light, almost gliding over the stone path, as if the morning breeze itself carried him forward. Ahead, Ye Feng stood silently outside his dwelling, arms crossed, a faint smile curving his lips. The sunlight caught the edges of his robe, giving him an ethereal, almost otherworldly aura.
Fu slowed, his eyes meeting Ye Feng's with calm resolve. He offered a gentle smile. "Brother Feng," he said, his voice steady yet warm, "are you ready?"
A subtle ripple of saint energy seemed to stir around them, the air between the two young friends vibrating with quiet anticipation.
Ye Feng's calm demeanor exuded quiet confidence as he fell in step beside Fu. "Sure, let's do this, Fu," he said, his voice steady yet carrying a faint undercurrent of anticipation. Rising to his full height, he cast a brief glance at the sprawling academy behind them, the morning sun glinting off its ancient stone walls.
Side by side, they made their way toward the secluded training ground in the southern section of the academy, where the dense groves and jagged rocks offered both privacy and challenge. Hong was already there, waiting, his killing intent was raging uncontrollably around him. The air seemed to thrum with saint energy, and every step closer to the training ground tightened the bond of camaraderie between Fu and Ye Feng, each silently acknowledging that today's incident might change them forever.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the southern training grounds as Ye Feng and Fu made their way through the dense grove. From a distance, ten followers of the royal family—including the stern and vigilant Senior Zhao—watched them carefully, their eyes narrowed their preparation were complete and they were only waiting for Ye Feng to make his move.
Senior Zhao's words carried a sharp intensity, his gaze sweeping over the ten royal family followers. "Let's tail them quietly," he said, lowering his voice so only they could hear. "I don't want a single sound from any of you. Not a whisper, not a footstep. We must be invisible to them— Do I make myself clear?"
The ten nodded in unison, their expressions a mix of focus and anticipation, ready to follow silently in the shadows as Senior Zhao led the way.
Up in the sky the headmaster was hovering silently above, his presence imperceptible yet watchful. From high above, he could see every subtle motion—Ye Feng and Fu walking steadily toward the southern isolated training ground.. The royal family followers, though vigilant themselves, were completely oblivious to this unseen observer. The air around the headmaster was still, only the faint ripple of his cultivation aura hinting at his immense power, a quiet tension building as he silently ensured that nothing escaped his scrutiny.
The headmaster's gaze sharp yet calm as he watched Ye Feng below. A small, knowing smile curved his lips, carrying the weight of unspoken judgment. 'Let's see if you can re-enter the Asura Sword Spirit World again, Ye Feng,' he thought, his mind threading between caution and anticipation. 'You'd better not disappoint my teacher and me; both of us have high expectations of you.'
_______
With Fu and Ye Feng
After fifteen minutes of brisk walking, the distant trees thinned, revealing an isolated training ground shrouded in mist. The air was heavy with the subtle scent of herbs and the faint hum of latent spiritual energy.
Standing at the very center of the isolated training ground, Hong wore a sinister smirk the moment his eyes landed on Ye Feng. Without saying a word, he slowly raised his right hand into the air.
The next instant—
"WHOOSH!, WHOOSH!, WHOOSH!"
Figures began appearing from all directions like ghosts emerging from the shadows.
In the blink of an eye, thirty Zhang Clan followers revealed themselves and formed a tight circle around Ye Feng and Fu, cutting off every possible route of escape. Their expressions were cold, their killing intent undisguised, and the atmosphere of the training ground instantly turned heavy with danger.
Fu's expression changed slightly when he saw the sudden ambush, while Ye Feng's eyes narrowed, his gaze turning sharp and icy as he swept his surroundings.
Hong, however, only continued to smirk as if everything was unfolding exactly according to his expectations.
His gaze then shifted toward Fu.
"You did well, Student Fu," Hong said with satisfaction, his tone carrying a trace of mock praise. "As I promised, the Rank 3 Monster Core is yours."
With a flick of his wrist, Hong tossed the monster core through the air.
Fu raised his hand and caught the monster core cleanly. His eyes lit up with excitement as he felt the dense spiritual energy radiating from it. A wide grin spread across his face, and he quickly stored it inside his space belt.
Hong's smirk deepened as he turned his eyes back toward Ye Feng, his expression full of malice and hidden schemes.
"Now then…" he said slowly, his voice dripping with amusement, "Ye Feng… it is time for you to die.."
Ye Feng stood silently in the middle of the trap, his robes fluttering lightly in the wind, his expression calm—but the cold glint in his eyes and he smiled despite the situation he was in.
'Perfect, everything had gone according to my plan now it is time to use these guys to re-enter the Asura Sword Spirit World.'
Bowen stood behind the Zhang clan followers and yelled loudly to all of them, "Kill Ye Feng." When the Zhang clan followers heard Bowen's order, they all summoned their saint weapons and charged at Ye Feng to kill him.
All kinds of Saint Weapons blazed into existence around the Zhang clan followers—swords that gleamed with razor-sharp killing intent, sabres wreathed in savage battle aura, massive hammers heavy enough to shatter stone, long spears radiating piercing force, brutal maces pulsing with destructive might, iron gauntlets crackling with raw power, and countless other deadly saint weapons. In an instant, the entire training ground was flooded with a terrifying storm of saint energy, their cold light intertwining as if a rain of slaughter was about to descend upon Ye Feng.
Ye Feng and Fu summoned their Saint Weapons at the same time, and in an instant, the isolated training ground erupted into chaos.
"CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!"
"CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!"
Fu tried to stand up again, but the bo-staff wielding saint weapon swung his bo-staff at him again, and Fu slammed on the ground hard.
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
The deafening sounds of metal colliding rang endlessly through the air as Ye Feng and Fu clashed fiercely against the Zhang clan followers. Swords flashed, sabres slashed, spears thrust forward like venomous serpents, and heavy hammers crashed down with brutal force. The battle turned into a storm of steel and killing intent.
Ye Feng moved like a phantom among the attackers, his weapon dancing with precision and deadly grace as he parried and countered the incoming strikes from all directions.
Fu, on the other hand, fought with gritted teeth and unyielding determination, refusing to back down despite being heavily outnumbered.
But then—
A Zhang clan follower wielding a Bo-Staff Saint Weapon swung his weapon with overwhelming force straight at Fu.
Fu's expression changed.
He quickly raised his Saint Weapon to block.
"BANG!"
A violent shockwave burst from the collision.
Fu's arms trembled violently from the impact, and before he could recover, the terrifying force behind the strike sent him flying backward like a broken kite.
"ARGH!"
His body shot through the air before crashing harshly onto the ground.
"BOOM!"
Dust rose into the air as Fu rolled several times before finally stopping. His chest heaved violently, and pain surged through his entire body. He coughed as blood trickled from the corner of his lips.
"Fu!" Ye Feng shouted, his eyes narrowing sharply as killing intent began to surge from his body.
Seeing Fu injured, the atmosphere around Ye Feng instantly changed.
It was as if something dangerous had just awakened.
The bo-staff wielder stepped forward with the swagger of a seasoned brute. He was a bold middle-aged man with tan skin and a bulky, muscular physique, his broad frame radiating raw physical power. A hideous smile stretched across his face, exposing the ugly gaps where a couple of teeth were missing, making him look even more savage and intimidating. In his rough, calloused hands, the bo-staff saint weapon seemed like an extension of his brutal nature, ready to crush anyone foolish enough to stand before him.
Fu's eyes blazed with fury as he glared at the bald middle-aged man. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up with great difficulty, his body trembling from the pain. Even so, he stood firm, his anger burning fiercely in his chest.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stared at the man with an unyielding expression. Then, in a voice filled with rage and determination, he shouted.
"I will not let you hurt Brother Feng!"
Though battered and injured, Fu refused to back down. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, looking at the bald middle aged man like a savage beast. At that moment, his loyalty and courage shone brighter than ever, as if no amount of pain could force him to kneel.
The bald middle-aged man smirked coldly and sneered at Fu. "We will see about that, student Fu. What a pity… we cannot kill you. After all, you are the Headmaster's personal disciple."
His voice was filled with mockery and disdain, as though Fu's status was the only thing shielding him from death. Yet the murderous glint in his eyes made it clear—if given the chance, he would not hesitate to strike Fu down without mercy.
The bald man lunged forward like a monsterous beast, his bo-staff whistling through the air as it descended upon Fu in a relentless storm.
"CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!"
Each strike landed with terrifying force, shaking Fu's arms to the core as he desperately raised his saint weapon again and again to block. Sparks flew wildly with every collision, and the sheer pressure behind the bald man's attacks drove Fu backward step by step across the training ground.
Fu gritted his teeth, his expression twisted with strain and pain. He couldn't even find a single opening to counterattack. The bald man's assault was simply too fierce, too overbearing—like an iron tempest that refused to give him even a moment to breathe.
All Fu could do was defend.
And even that was becoming harder with every passing second.
The bald man's hideous grin only widened as he pressed forward mercilessly, swinging his bo-staff faster and harder, clearly enjoying the sight of Fu being forced into such a miserable state.
_______
Ye Feng VS Zhang Clan Followers
Ye Feng's chest rose and fell violently as he stood encircled by the Zhang clan followers. Their saint weapons came at him from every direction—swords, sabres, spears, and maces tearing across his flesh. Blood streamed from the countless wounds covering his body, dyeing his robes crimson and dripping onto the cold ground below. Yet despite the pain, despite his weakening body and labored breathing, Ye Feng still refused to fall.
Another blade slashed across his shoulder, and a spear narrowly missed his throat. The Zhang clan followers pressed their assault mercilessly, believing victory was already within their grasp. But in the midst of that life-and-death storm, Ye Feng's eyes suddenly sharpened with terrifying focus.
As he continued to fight against them, a single thought echoed in his mind:
'I need to focus solely on the sword… forget everything that surrounds me… only the sword exists with me.'
At that moment, the chaos around him seemed to fade. The roars of his enemies, the pain of his wounds, and even the sight of the battlefield itself all became distant and insignificant. In Ye Feng's world, there was no longer hesitation—only the sword.
His grip tightened around his saint weapon.
The light in his eyes—the bright, burning glow—was fading faster than he had ever experienced before.
Ye Feng was overjoyed when he was feeling this sensation and asked himself.
'Could it be I am re-entering the Asura Sword Spirit World?'
Ye Feng lowered his saint weapon after the light in his eyes disappeared, and all the Zhang clan followers smirked along with Bowen. All of them charged at Ye Feng with their saint weapon with the intent of finishing Ye Feng once and for all.
______
Fu VS The Bald Zhang Clan Follower
Fu groaned in pain, the air leaving his lungs with each brutal stomp. His vision blurred, but his eyes never left Ye Feng, who was surrounded by a dozen Zhang clan followers. Anger surged through Fu, mixing with the sharp sting of the blows. Despite his body screaming in protest, a fiery determination began to ignite in him. "I… won't… just watch…" he rasped, gripping the ground beneath him as he struggled to rise, his fingers digging into the dirt, leaving streaks of blood and soil.
The bald middle-aged man stepped back slightly, amused at Fu's feeble attempts to get up. "Pathetic," he sneered, "you really think you can save him?"
But in Fu's mind, a plan was already forming. Even battered, he wasn't about to let Ye Feng face death alone. The storm of their battle was far from over.
_____
With Senior Zhao and Royal Family Followers
Senior Zhao's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his brows knitting into a tight frown. "This is… worse than I expected," he muttered under his breath. "The Zhang clan's forces outnumber us by more than twice. Even if I wanted to intervene, there's no way I can lend Ye Feng any assistance without risking total disaster for my men."
He shifted his stance slightly, scanning the battlefield from a distance, the tension in his posture unmistakable. Every instinct told him that moving in now could turn their small squad into a slaughter, and yet, the thought of leaving Ye Feng to face such overwhelming odds gnawed at him.
The air seemed heavier with the weight of inevitability, the distant clash of saint weapons echoing ominously, as Senior Zhao silently cursed the situation he was powerless to change.
He looked at Ye Feng in pity. A long-bearded, skinny middle-aged man was standing next to Senior Zhao. He looked at Senior Zhao and asked him in a low voice, "What should we do, Senior Zhao? This is bad, and if anything happens to the kid, the princess will be very disappointed.".
Senior Zhao's frown deepened as he looked at the long-bearded man. "We can't intervene directly," he said quietly, his voice heavy with unease. "The Zhang clan followers outnumber us by more than twice, and if we step in, it will turn into a massacre. Ye Feng's fate… is in his own hands this time."
The long-bearded man's eyes narrowed. "But the princess… if he falls here, she'll be upset. There has to be a way—some method to at least give him a chance."
Senior Zhao shook his head slowly. "There's only one thing we can do. We observe, make sure no one from outside interferes, and hope his cultivation and resolve are enough. That's all we can do… for now."
He cast a fleeting glance toward Ye Feng, whose figure was dwarfed by the approaching Zhang clan followers, and for a moment, pity and admiration flickered in his eyes. The battle ahead would test not just Ye Feng's strength, but his spirit.
______
With The Headmaster
The headmaster's lips curled into approving smile as he observed Ye Feng's eyes fade into darkness. "Well done, child," he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You have not disappointed me… nor my revered teacher. Hmph. It seems I must now deal with these insignificant pests."
The headmaster's figure flickered like a mirage against the sky before vanishing in an instant.
_____
Ye Feng VS Zhang Clan Followers
All the Zhang clan followers encircled Ye Feng, their saint weapons gleaming like frozen lightning in the dim light. With a simultaneous roar, they struck, a torrent of steel and saint force aimed to extinguish him. Bowen, stationed at the rear, smirked , he turned away, knowing—Ye Feng's end was imminent, inevitable.
Yet even in the shadow of death, a faint, unyielding aura clung to him, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to let this young cultivator fall.
Before the saint weapons could strike, Ye Feng's body blurred, leaping into the air with a grace that defied the eye. He twisted mid-flight, spinning like a celestial serpent, and landed silently behind the Zhang clan followers. The radiance in his eyes are still dim but it sharp and piercing, aura are cutting through the tension like a blade. The Zhang followers froze, their expressions twisting from confidence to shock, while Bowen's smug smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion.
In that instant, it was as if the air itself acknowledged Ye Feng's awakening—every saint weapon poised for his destruction now seemed impotent before the dimness in his gaze.
_______
In the Asura Sword Spirit World
Ye Feng's consciousness plunged into a sea of crimson, and in the next breath, his feet touched upon a barren, blood-soaked earth. The sky above churned like a wounded beast, painted in endless shades of red, while a suffocating aura of slaughter and ancient sword intent pressed down at him from all directions.
For a moment, he stood still.
Then, a faint smirk curved upon his lips.
"I succeeded, I re-entered the Asura Sword Spirit World…"
His voice was low, almost reverent.
Ye Feng grasped the hilt of the crimson-black sword embedded deep within the desolate earth, its blade humming with a faint, ominous resonance. With a steady pull, he freed it, and the moment it left the ground, a surge of violent ominous intent rippled through the air and He Feng raised his eyebrows when he felt it.
"This was different from before… this sword and the very air around it is steeped in a suffocating slaughter intent, as if countless souls had been massacred by it."
At that very instant, Ye Feng's gaze sharpened.
From the crimson haze, a shadowy figure emerged—its steps unhurried, each one carrying an oppressive killing intent that seemed to resonate throughout the entire Asura Sword Spirit World. A sword hung loosely in its right hand.
Ye Feng's lips curled into a cold, fearless smirk, his eyes blazing with rekindled battle intent.
"So… we meet again."
A faint killing aura seeped from his body, coiling around him like a dormant dragon awakening.
He tightened his grip on his sword, its edge letting out a low, resonant cry in response to his will.
"—I will be the one who stands victorious."
Ye Feng shot forward like a streak of crimson lightning, his killing intent surging like a maelstrom. At the same instant, the shadowy figure moved as if it had foreseen his attack, gliding across the ground with eerie calm.
"CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!"
Blades collided in a dazzling storm of sparks. Their swords danced at blinding speed, each strike precise, ruthless, and filled with profound intent. Ye Feng's movements were sharp and domineering, every swing carrying the weight of his unyielding will, while the shadowy figure's sword flowed like a dark current—silent, elegant, yet deadly.
Ye Feng's lips curled into a cold, confident smirk. "Time to end this."
In the next instant, his figure blurred and vanished, as though erased from the fabric of the world itself. The Free Steps martial skill unfolded—silent, formless, leaving not even a trace of his presence behind.
A ripple of distorted air trembled behind the shadowy figure.
Before it could react—
Ye Feng appeared.
Like a phantom emerging from the void, he stood directly at its back, his eyes gleaming with killing intent. The sword in his hand began to hum, its blade suffused with a violent crimson-black glow, as if drenched in blood and shadow.
Killing intent condensed.
Power surged.
With a swift, merciless motion, Ye Feng thrust forward.
"Free Piercing Sword."
"PU—!"
The blade pierced through flesh with a dull, heavy sound, the crimson-black light erupting violently as it sank deep into the shadowy figure's back.
The shadowy figure suddenly erupted with a blinding white radiance, its form collapsing as if unable to sustain its existence. In the very next instant, its body condensed into a radiant sphere, pure and resplendent, pulsing with an unfathomable aura and energy.
As Ye Feng's sword pierced through its back, the sphere trembled violently—then, like a bolt of heavenly judgment, it shot forward with terrifying speed.
Ye Feng's pupils shrank.
"Too fast."
Even with his mastery of the Free Steps, even with his sharpened battle instincts, he found himself unable to react. The white sphere seemed to transcend distance itself, ignoring space as it streaked toward him.
Before he could even raise a hand—
"Whoosh!"
The radiant sphere plunged straight into his forehead.
"!"
At that instant, Ye Feng sensed a profound transformation within himself—his soul was steadily growing stronger, pulsing with an unseen yet undeniable power. A tranquil calm washed over him, soothing his mind like still water beneath a moonlit sky.
Without hesitation, he lowered himself into a lotus position. His breathing slowed, each inhale and exhale harmonizing with the rhythm of his spirit. Closing his eyes, he withdrew his consciousness inward.
Within the depths of his being, Ye Feng began to observe his soul—vast, mysterious, and now radiating with a faint, ethereal glow. Threads of energy coiled and surged like silent tides, as if awakening from a long slumber. He remained still, fully immersed, silently comprehending the changes unfolding within.
_______
In The South Isolated Training Ground
The headmaster's eyes widened as a violent crimson aura erupted from Ye Feng's body, surging outward like a tide of blood-red lightning.
"WHOOSH!"
A faint smirk curled on his lips.
"So… he has broken through to the Saint Master Realm."
But the moment his gaze sharpened, that calm amusement faded.
He looked deeper into Ye Feng, his perception cutting through flesh and bone, and his expression shifted with genuine surprise. Ye Feng's vitality was not merely stronger—it had undergone a terrifying qualitative leap, as if his very physique had been reforged in a crucible of endless battle.
"Hm?" the headmaster murmured inwardly. "This level of vitality… don't tell me he is also cultivating a body refinement technique?"
A low chuckle escaped him.
"Interesting… truly interesting, he must be cultivating the Berserk Dragon Body Refinement method."
The headmaster's gaze turned razor-sharp as he fixed his attention on the Zhang clan followers. A faint killing intent began to seep from his body, distorting the air around him.
"I can't allow them to disturb that child's breakthrough," he said coldly.
A deep, oppressive aura surged forth like a dormant beast awakening. The ground beneath his feet cracked slightly as spiritual energy coiled around him in silent fury.
"I will deal with them… now."
In the next instant, his silhouette blurred—vanishing from his original position as the wind itself seemed to tremble under the weight of his intent.
The headmaster hovered high above the Zhang clan followers, his robes billowing as an oppressive aura pressed down like a mountain.
He raised a hand casually.
"FWOSH—!"
A sudden surge of wind erupted from his palm, roaring across the battlefield like an invisible blade. The gust tore through the air with devastating force, scattering dust and shaking the ground beneath.
In an instant, the Zhang clan followers' expressions twisted in shock.
Before they could even react, the violent wind slammed into them head-on, sending every last one of them flying backward like ragdolls. Bodies crashed and tumbled across the training ground, their formation completely shattered in a single breath.
The headmaster remained suspended in the air, calm and unmoving, as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.
When the Royal Family's followers sensed the headmaster's arrival, their expressions became relieved. In an instant, they surged forward in perfect coordination, sealing off every escape route as they encircled the Zhang clan followers like an iron net, their killing intent quietly rising into the air.
Bowen's expression twisted in panic as cold sweat poured down his face. Without another thought, he turned and bolted, his footsteps kicking up dust as he tried to escape.
But Senior Zhao merely let out a cold snort.
"Trying to run?"
With a flick of his sleeve, saint energy surged beneath his feet. In an instant, his figure blurred like a streak of light as he gave chase, the pressure of his aura locking firmly onto Bowen's fleeing form.
_______
In The Asura Sword Spirit World
Ye Feng's steps slowed as he ventured deeper into the Asura Sword Spirit World. The crimson earth beneath him grew colder, the air thicker, as though the realm itself was watching his every move.
Then, ahead, a river came into view—no ordinary river, but a surging current of fresh, glistening blood that roared as it carved through the desolate land. The stench of slaughter lingered within its waves, and faint wails seemed to echo from beneath its surface.
In the very center of that violent stream stood a lone golden tree. It was small, almost delicate, yet it radiated great pressure that suppressed even the river's brutality. Its branches swayed gently without wind, and upon it hung only one fruit—glowing faintly, as if containing pure energy .
The golden fruit shimmered like a miniature sun, perfectly round and radiant, matching the brilliance of the tree from which it hung. Ye Feng's eyes narrowed with desire and resolve—without hesitation, he launched himself toward it.
But in that instant—
A sharp, terrifying streak of purple sword qi tore through the air.
"SWOOSH—!"
The sword qi slashed across Ye Feng's chest with ruthless precision. A deep wound blossomed instantly, crimson blood erupting into the air like a shattered spring.
"AAAGGHHH!"
Ye Feng's roar of pain echoed loudly as his body was violently sent flying backward. He crashed into the surging blood river, the current swallowing him whole as ripples of scarlet surged outward…
Ye Feng gritted his teeth as searing pain tore through his body, the crimson river swallowing him whole. The surging current of blood dragged him farther and farther away from the golden tree, its radiant glow fading into the distance like a dying dream.
The crimson river surged like a living beast, its currents roaring with an eerie vitality as Ye Feng's battered body was swept along its flow.
To his shock, the deep wound across his chest began to close on its own—flesh knitting back together at an unnatural speed. The blood river… was healing him.
Yet Ye Feng had no time to question it.
"I… can't move!" he growled, struggling to stabilize his body, but the force of the current was far beyond his control. It pressed against him like countless invisible hands, locking his limbs in place as it dragged him mercilessly downstream.
Ahead, the river narrowed.
The sound of thunderous water grew louder.
A towering waterfall emerged from the crimson mist—its edge swallowing the river into a plunging abyss of blood-red mist and roaring chaos.
Ye Feng's eyes widened.
"No—!"
The roaring waterfall threw him downward like a discarded leaf.
Wind tore past his ears—violent, deafening.
Below Ye Feng, the river no longer flowed like water.
It devoured.
A colossal whirlpool spun at the base of the cliff, its center a black abyss twisting with crimson currents. The surrounding blood-river waters were dragged into it as if some ancient beast was drinking the world itself.
Ye Feng's expression changed instantly.
"This is bad… very bad."
Before he could stabilize his body, the force of the fall intensified. The whirlpool's suction latched onto him like invisible chains, pulling him faster and faster toward the center.
His saint energy surged instinctively—but the moment it left his body, it was shredded by the oppressive river aura.
"Damn it!"
Ye Feng fell into the whirlpool and was dragged to the bottom of the whirlpool. All of a sudden, a huge monster covered in black scales appeared in the middle of the whirlpool. It opened its huge jaw and swallowed Ye Feng.
After the monster swallowed Ye Feng, everything around him turned to darkness. After a few minutes, Ye Feng lost consciousness.
_________
In The South Isolated Training Ground
Dust and killing intent still lingered in the air as the last of the Zhang clan followers collapsed unconscious across the shattered ground.
The royal family followers quickly regrouped, forming a loose circle around the headmaster and Fu. Their expressions were still tense, but the pressure of battle had finally eased.
One of them stepped forward hesitantly, glancing at the motionless elders scattered like broken puppets.
"Headmaster," he asked carefully, swallowing hard, "what are you going to do with these elders?"
The headmaster rolled his eyes at the royal family follower and said to him, "Listen up, I don't care about the royal family issues with the Zhang clan, and usually I don't get involved with these issues as long as neither side breaks any of my academy rules. Do I make myself clear, elder?" The elder gulped and nodded his head.
Fu looked at Ye Feng in confusion as he saw him standing still, his eyes void of life. Fu walked to Ye Feng and said, "Brother Feng, are you alright? Snap out of it.".
The headmaster yelled at Fu and said " Fu stop Ye Feng is in special state don't disturb him". Fu was confused but nodded to him. The headmaster then turn to the other elders and looked at them in annoyance "and what are you all looking at go do your job for god sake start by tying up those fools I need to have a word with them before expelling them from the academy".
The royal family followers quickly get to work and start tying up all the unconscious Zhang clan followers. After they got tied up, the headmaster summoned the law enforcement elders and put all the Zhang clan followers in the academy prison.
Suddenly, Ye Feng started to sweat profusely, then he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Fu rushed to his side, and the headmaster smiled. He looked at Fu and said to him, "Fu, take Ye Feng to the medical bay.
Fu nodded, grabbed Ye Feng, and rushed to the medical bay.
______
Senior Zhao VS Bowen
Senior Zhao kept chasing Bowen with everything he got: "Damn, he is fast. I was right to be wary of him. I need to finish him now, and as quickly as I can, I have a feeling if he is left alive, things will get really bad in the future.".
Bowen cursed Ye Feng and his own luck: "Damn it, I need to leave the academy. If I am captured by the headmaster, the Zhang clan will execute me. My only option is to migrate to another country, but first I need to deal with the Royal Family lap dog. I can't fight him by myself; his cultivation is higher than mine." Suddenly he heard a voice in his right: "You need help.?"
Bowen looked to his right, and he saw Zimo and Tao. He smiled when he saw them: "Perfect. With Tao and Zimo's help, I am sure we can get rid of Zhao once and for all.".
Bowen stopped running and said to them, "I need your help." Tao and Zimo raised their eyebrows, but Bowen didn't have time to explain the situation to them because Senior Zhao cached up to him. He swung his saint weapon at Bowen in order to chop off his head, but Tao summoned his own saint weapon "CLANK" and blocked Senior Zhao's strike.
Tao was wielding a War Scythe Saint weapon and used it to block Senior Zhao's Saint weapon, which was a sword. Zimo then summoned his own weapon that looked like a guandao and swung it at Senior Zhao to cut him in half.
Senior Zhao narrowed his eyes and he dodged to the side after dodging his eyes widened "PU". He looked to his chest his eyes widened when he saw he was stabbed by a sword. He turned his head and saw Bowen smirking at him "damn you".
Senior Zhao started coughing out blood, and Bowen removed his sword, then swung his sword again. Senior Zhao's head flew in the air after Bowen chopped it off, and his corpse fell to the ground. Along with Senior Zhao's head.
Bowen smirked after killing Senior Zhao, and he stored his saint weapon back in his Dantian. Tao and Zimo walked up to him. and he smiled at them, but Bowen's eyes suddenly widened when Zimo suddenly stabbed him with his guandao "PU," and he coughed out blood.
Bowen looked at Zimo with hatred. "Why you?" Zimo smirked and said to Bowen, "Don't take it personally, Bowen. Your existence is a danger to us now. You know a lot of things about us, and you also failed to kill that kid.".
Bowen glared at Tao and Zimo "You bastards." Zimo chuckled at him and said, "Now that you are dying, I don't mind revealing to you our main goal of infiltrating the Azure Dragon Academy." Bowen was surprised and asked, "isn't to check on the young talent of the Hidden Dragon Kingdom?" Tao and Zimo smirked at Bowen and nodded to him.
"True, but it wasn't our main objective; our main objective is to steal the Azure Dragon key," Zimo said with a smile, and Bowen looked confused. "Azure Dragon key?" Zimo was surprised when he saw the clueless face of Bowen: "The Zhang clan really didn't tell you anything, did they?".
Bowen narrowed his eyes, and Zimo started explaining, "The Azure Dragon Academy was known by the Azure Dragon Sect; it was one of the protector sects alongside Celestial Mountain Sect, Pure Wing Sect, Heavenly Star Sect, Pure Heart Sect, Shenxiao Sect, Potian Sect, Yangji Sect, and Yiyuan Sect."
Zimo continued his explanation, "But after the ancient war, the Azure Dragon Sect was one of the casualties that the human race suffered in that war, so as a result, only a handful of students survived the war, and the sect turned into school".
"The Azure Dragon Key is the key to opening the treasury of the Azure Dragon Sect, and now it all belongs to the Persian Kingdom and Andreas Kingdom." Bowen was shocked at the information that Zimo revealed to him. He didn't get a chance to say anything because Tao swung his saint weapon, "SQUACH.".
After Tao cut Bowen's throat with his saint weapon, the life in his eyes disappeared. Zimo removed the blade of his guandao from Bowen's chest, and Zimo said to Tao, "Let's go." Tao nodded, and the duo left the area as fast as they could.