The blood upon the longsword had scarcely trickled down before it crystallized into crimson ice crystals, turning the blade into a weapon stained scarlet.
The bloodied sword glided slowly toward Zhuang Ling, its sharp tip aimed directly at his throat. The biting frost on the blade sent chills crawling across his skin.
"You—you cannot kill me! Do you want the Misty Sect to declare war on Firecloud Manor? Gao Han, you are far too reckless, seeking to ignite a conflict between sects!"
At first, Zhuang Ling blustered to hide his fear, but as he spoke, he grew bolder, adopting a righteous tone as if condemning Gao Han for some great crime.
Gao Han's patience wore thinner by the second. Finally, he flicked his sword, leaving a shallow gash across Zhuang Ling's body.
The sudden jolt of pain shut him up at once. He finally remembered his predicament: his life hung in Gao Han's grasp, yet he had dared to lecture and condemn him. Truly, he had a death wish.
The onlookers indeed stared at Zhuang Ling as if he were a fool.
With that single cut, Gao Han silenced him. He then turned abruptly to face the remaining contestants and spoke without glancing back. "Begone. I will spare your life. You are not worth killing."
After a brief pause, he added, "You flatter yourself. Firecloud Manor will not go to war with the Misty Sect for a useless cripple."
He paid Zhuang Ling no further mind and addressed the three Serene Lotus Sect disciples. "Come. We have one extra candidate now."
The three stared at Gao Han in stunned silence, silently thanking Leng Ling and Le Han for telling them of his fearsome reputation.
Had they not known of his ruthless methods from their junior sisters, they would surely have ended up maimed like Zhuang Ling and the others.
Yi Zhiyong too gaped at Gao Han in astonishment. He had not expected the young man to be so brutal, nor so overwhelmingly powerful. Even he had been unable to react in time to save the four.
He had been stunned rigid by Gao Han's savagery, and the entire affair had unfolded in the blink of an eye—far too swiftly to intervene.
"Hehe, the Ice Hero Gao Han lives up to his fame indeed. Your strength is unparalleled. We admit we are no match for you," Rou Qing said quickly with a forced smile, alarmed that Gao Han still intended to fight.
Gao Han nodded slightly and gestured toward the two remaining Misty Sect disciples still within the circle. "These two must join the mission. Their strength is not on par with Hound Fang or Zhuang Ling, but they are far from weak."
Naturally, he would reserve spots for his fellow sect disciples. He would lend his aid to any who were not petty scoundrels like Wei Ying, and the two had proven themselves loyal by standing with him earlier.
The pair stared at Gao Han with undisguised excitement. By their own strength, they would never have qualified for the mission, yet Gao Han had given them a chance.
Rou Qing chuckled softly. "Naturally. Junior Sister Rou Lian, you may withdraw. Your strength is the lowest among us."
Her authority among the group was clear. Rou Lian nodded without complaint and stepped out of the circle at once.
And so, only five remained within the ring—enough to fill the quota.
Gao Han bowed slightly to the Misty Sect disciple outside the circle. "My apologies, Senior Brother. You cannot join this mission."
The man waved it off with a calm smile. "Do not speak so, Senior Brother Gao. Without you, the three of us would have become a laughingstock."
Only then did Gao Han take a closer look at the trio. All were in their twenties, clad in blue robes embroidered with two white cloud lines on the cuffs—markings of ordinary inner-sect disciples, not the true inner-sect disciples of the five peaks.
From Bai Xuebin, Gao Han had learned that true inner-sect disciples who reached the Fourth Layer of True Essence before a certain age were promoted to true disciples, whose robes bore three white cloud lines on the cuffs.
With matters settled, Yi Zhiyong stepped forward.
"Very well. You five are the strongest among all. We shall depart at dawn tomorrow. Tonight, the Yi family will host you in the finest manner possible. Eat and lodge as you wish—all expenses are on my house." Yi Zhiyong was exceedingly generous; cultivating good relations with sect disciples could only benefit the clan.
That evening, Gao Han and the others took up residence in the Yi manor. After dinner, they chose guest chambers and settled in for the night.
At the first light of dawn the next day, Gao Han left his room.
He had not slept the previous night, instead meditating as usual—though only for half the night.
After dinner, he had chatted briefly with the other sect disciples before retiring to his chamber. But moments later, an uninvited guest had slipped in—a bold young lady, or rather, a beautiful one.
It was Yi Yingying. She had chatted with him awkwardly for a full hour, her words rambling and disjointed.
Only when she finally left could he cultivate in peace. Staying up all night to practice had long become his habit; sleep never came easily to him.
Yi Yingying had hesitated and agonized for ages before working up the courage to see him. She intended to lay bare all her feelings for him.
At first, she had merely harbored a quiet affection for Gao Han, but half a year of longing and worry had blossomed into deep infatuation.
She was certain now: she loved Gao Han. She resolved to cast aside her maidenly reserve and pursue him openly. If he left again, she might never see him for the rest of her life.
After breakfast, Gao Han and the others mounted their horses, and the procession set off in grand style.
Twenty guards of the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation surrounded over a dozen coachmen, each of the Fifth Layer of Qi Condensation.
Protected by Gao Han and the four others, the journey passed without serious incident.
This was the first time Gao Han had ventured so deep into the Qiling Mountains. He had visited once at the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation, but his cultivation had been too weak to stray far from safety.
The path was fraught with demonic beasts of various ranks, most of the First Tier. Left unguarded, even a single beast could have annihilated the entire caravan.
Throughout the journey, Yi Yingying kept close to Gao Han, chatting incessantly. Every reply he gave sent her into delighted giggles, her laughter ringing like silver bells.
The sight stirred envy in the other men, particularly the Ninth Layer Qi Condensation guards, who glowered with jealousy and resentment.
As outsiders in the Yi household, they craved advancement, and Yi Yingying represented their clearest path upward. Marrying into the Yi family would mean a meteoric rise in status.
Though Yi Yingying could not be called devastatingly beautiful, she was delicate and charming. In the past six months, her temperament had grown gentle, lending her a soft grace that even Situ Yan—proud and willful as she was—could not match.
"Han, we will reach the Death Swamp in just a few more li," Yi Yingying said, walking beside Gao Han at the head of the procession, holding a map. Knowing he had never been this way, she explained the route to him.
Gao Han nodded in acknowledgment, his face expressionless.
Ever since entering the Qiling Mountains, Yi Yingying had taken to calling him "Han." He cared little for names—they were merely labels—but the intimacy of the address still felt strange to him.