A black carriage had been traveling along the main road for quite some time, passing by vast stretches of fertile farmland. As it neared a tall, mist-shrouded mountain, it came to a stop.
"We've arrived, my lord," the coachman said, curling his whip and glancing back at the carriage. "Any farther and I dare not go. That mountain ahead... it's not a place for people like me. This is as far as I can take you."
"Hm." Feng Yunwuji gave a brief reply and stepped out of the carriage, followed closely by the uneasy Helian Nanshan.
"Senior," said Shen Tu Mojun, still clinging to a final shred of doubt, "are you truly heading for the Muzi Sword Sect? One of the Three Great Sects of the martial world?"
Feng Yunwuji said nothing. With a sweep of his long sleeve, he turned and began ascending the narrow mountain path, walking steadily toward the mist-veiled peaks. As he lifted his head, he caught a glimpse—partially obscured by the fog—of a red-walled compound nestled deep within the clouds.
Shen Tu Mojun hesitated, then turned and glared menacingly at the coachman. "I'm going up to enjoy the mountain view. I'll be back shortly. If you so much as think of leaving without me, I'll slaughter your entire family. Understood?"
The coachman went pale at once, nodding furiously, all color draining from his face.
Satisfied, Shen Tu Mojun turned back with a sinister grin and followed after Feng Yunwuji, his earlier frustration suddenly lifted. He even felt a curious sense of elation.
The two climbed higher along the mountain path. Before long, the red-walled compound emerged fully into view. At the entrance stood a black stone tablet, upon which three bold characters were engraved: Sword Relinquishment Pool.
Just before the pool, a massive plaque loomed overhead, bearing the name Muzi Sword Sect in calligraphy both vigorous and domineering, exuding an air of power.
Two disciples, dressed in white robes and each bearing a three-foot sword at the waist, stood guard at the entrance. Upon spotting the approaching figures, one of them shouted, "This is the sacred gate of the Muzi Sword Sect. If you bear weapons, you must lay them down in the Sword Relinquishment Pool before proceeding."
Feng Yunwuji continued forward at his own measured pace, stopping just short of the gate. He looked at the two and asked calmly, "Is your former sect leader, Leng Ruoshuang, present?"
The two disciples exchanged a look of surprise. One of them blurted out instinctively, "How do you know that? She just returned yesterday! Today, she's meeting with the current Sect Leader. We only heard about it by chance. Could it be that you, too, are from... up above, like the Grandmaster herself?"
The other disciple's face changed, and he tugged discreetly at his companion's sleeve. The first immediately fell silent.
A trace of appreciation flashed in Feng Yunwuji's eyes. This gatekeeper was sharp—clearly a cultivable talent. He made a silent note to remember the boy for future grooming.
"Go inform your Grandmaster immediately."
The two disciples nodded. The talkative one, visibly excited, ran off at once. Feng Yunwuji remained at the gate; someone of his status would never barge in uninvited. Inside, he could already hear a commotion rising. Amidst the din, he caught Leng Ruoshuang's familiar voice—though it was too chaotic to make out her words, she clearly sounded excited.
A slight smile tugged at Feng Yunwuji's lips. He knew that if he could reach Leng Ruoshuang, everything else would follow smoothly. With the Muzi Sword Sect's status behind him, he could reveal his identity and rally the martial world under his call. As many as possible would ascend together—better that than letting Heaven seize the initiative.
At Feng Yunwuji's side, Shen Tu Tianxia still felt anxious. He feared the sudden appearance of the Muzi Sword Sect's elders in overwhelming numbers, but he kept a calm exterior, betraying no hint of his unease. Only when the young disciple announced that the Grandmaster was coming did something flicker in his eyes, and he turned to study Feng Yunwuji with a strange, calculating gaze.
Suddenly, a shriek echoed from within the red walls.
Then came Leng Ruoshuang's furious voice: "Xiang Jue, you… dare…!"
Clashing steel followed at once.
Both Feng Yunwuji and Shen Tu Tianxia turned sharply toward the courtyard.
"It's Ruoshuang!" Feng Yunwuji's expression turned cold. In a flash, he rushed toward the sect gates.
"Stop—!" the gatekeeper cried out, arms outstretched. But Feng Yunwuji raised his right palm, and the disciple was sent flying like a broken kite.
Inside the gates, thousands of disciples were practicing their sword forms. Some turned, bewildered, toward the sudden uproar—they clearly had no idea what was happening.
"Xiang Jue! You dare commit treason against your own master?! …Puh!… Grandmaster!"
The clashing intensified.
"Listen well, all of you!" an old man's voice thundered from within. "This man is impersonating the Grandmaster! His intentions are clearly sinister. Disciples of Muzi Sword Sect, surround the intruder at once—let none escape, or you will answer for it!"
The disciples halted their training. Thousands of swords pointed directly at Feng Yunwuji.
Shing! The metallic hiss of countless blades echoed through the air.
"Grandmaster… help… me…"
Leng Ruoshuang's voice, faint and trembling, rang out from within. It was clear she was in grave danger.
Feng Yunwuji didn't know what exactly had gone wrong within the sect, but he could no longer delay. With a cold snort, a shockwave rippled from him, shaking the minds of all present and sending them stumbling back.
In the next breath, he leapt into the air, transforming into a streak of light that soared into the inner compound. A flurry of sword lights rose to intercept him—but they all struck nothing but empty air.
Along the way, wave after wave of Muzi Sword Sect disciples tried to block his advance. Their strength grew steadily more formidable, but none could stand against Feng Yunwuji. They were cast aside like sacks of straw.
As he reached the heart of the inner court, he saw them—thousands of cultivators in the Ascension Realm, circling above and launching a relentless assault against Leng Ruoshuang. If not for the millennia of power Feng Yunwuji had poured into her cultivation, she would have fallen long ago.
Ordinarily, Leng Ruoshuang's post-ascension strength would make these enemies—though also in the Ascension Realm—utterly insignificant in comparison to an ancient human like her. And yet, her chest had been pierced by a long sword that had clearly entered from behind, a treacherous blow she had not anticipated. The blade glimmered with a strange light—it was undoubtedly a treasure weapon.
Her face had turned ashen-blue, and her body trembled as if on the verge of collapse. She was bleeding from several wounds, and though her cultivation vastly exceeded her attackers', even she could barely endure.
Opposite her stood a silver-bearded elder, eyes full of malice, clutching a golden command token. As Feng Yunwuji entered, the elder was shouting, "The Sect Leader's token is here! Who dares defy its order? Strike now, or face punishment by sect law!"
Before Feng Yunwuji arrived, the young disciple he had cast through the gates had already alarmed everyone within. The man called Xiang Jue, apparently the current Sect Leader, was shouting angrily at a gathering of seated elders: "Why are you still just sitting there? Stop him!"
The elders exchanged helpless glances. But Xiang Jue had already thrown the command token, and with a collective roar, thousands of swords were drawn. Cold gleams of deadly intent flashed as countless blades shot through the air toward Feng Yunwuji from every direction.
At the same time, the assault on Leng Ruoshuang intensified…