In the secluded back mountain of Blackwood Cliff, after Tong Baixiong and Alex departed, Yang Lianting strode forward, brusquely parting the pink gauze. He settled onto Dongfang Bubai's ornate cloud bed, his voice edged with suspicion. "Alex's origins are murky. He shouldn't be trusted with power. Shall I order the Punishment Hall to interrogate him harshly? What if he's a Five Mountains Sword Sect spy?"
"Calm yourself, Brother Lian," Dongfang Bubai replied, his tone smooth and reassuring from behind the veil. "If Alex were a spy, would he dare draw such attention? No need for jealousy—he's merely our subordinate. The stronger his skills, the more he eases our burdens. Without martial masters serving us, how could we revel in freedom here?"
"But you invited him to discuss flying needles here, with you?" Yang Lianting pressed, a hint of pique in his voice.
"My embroidery needles, fueled by true essence, are unstoppable yet lack finesse—like a warrior with vast inner strength ignorant of swordplay," Dongfang Bubai explained. "Alex's black blood needle technique is masterful. Mastering it would elevate my power significantly."
…
While Yang Lianting schemed in the back mountain, urging Dongfang Bubai to eliminate Alex, the deputy hall master had already claimed a small Huandan from the Sun Moon Sect's treasury and returned to his quarters.
Seating himself cross-legged, Alex swallowed the elixir, its warmth spreading through him. He channeled his inner strength method, guiding the medicinal power through his meridians. The small Huandan, a rare treasure in the martial arts world, could amplify a warrior's strength. Even the mighty Sun Moon Sect possessed few, making Dongfang Bubai's gift a mark of high favor.
Once the small Huandan's power was fully absorbed, Alex felt his inner strength surge, a vibrant current coursing within. Precise crystal point gains were unclear, but testing revealed his Magneto-derived ability had doubled in potency. Where he once lifted 100 kilograms of metal, now 200 kilograms bent effortlessly to his will—a testament to how inner strength enhanced his genetic powers.
Over the next few days, Alex acclimated to his newfound strength, honing his control. As deputy hall master of Wind and Thunder Hall, his requests were swiftly met. A fine steel sword and a cache of hidden weapons, including more black blood needles, arrived from the sect's armory.
After preparations, Alex handpicked twenty skilled warriors from Wind and Thunder Hall, including Liu Yang, and led them down Blackwood Cliff's rugged slopes, bound for Hengshan City.
Liu Yang trailed Alex, watching his confident stride with a mix of awe and reflection. He'd always known Alex's strength would shine in the Sun Moon Sect, but his rise to deputy hall master in mere weeks, with a chance to claim Qu Yang's elder seat, was staggering.
"Deputy Hall Master," Liu Yang reported as they neared Hengshan City, "Liu Zhengfeng's Jinpen retirement is three days away. Many Five Mountains Sword Sect members have already gathered. Should we proceed cautiously?"
"Retiring from the martial world?" Alex mused, recalling the tragedy of that event in The Smiling, Proud Wanderer. "A gathering of masters—perfect for stirring the waters. I'll scout Hengshan City alone. You and the others wait at the mountain's base."
The Jinpen Retirement Conference drew countless righteous warriors, and a full entourage would draw unwanted eyes. Alone, Alex believed only a master of Dongfang Bubai's caliber could truly threaten him.
As deputy head of Wind and Thunder Hall, Alex commanded respect, his reputation soaring within the Sun Moon Sect. The Jinpen Retirement Conference in Hengshan City drew a throng of righteous martial artists, and a clash with his small force would spell disaster.
Thus, Liu Yang and the twenty warriors unquestioningly obeyed Alex's command, remaining encamped at the foot of Hengshan's misty slopes.
Alex alone spurred his horse into Hengshan City, hooves clattering on the cobblestone streets.
His skills emboldened him. When he'd accompanied Tong Baixiong, facing a Five Mountains Sword Sect leader solo would've unnerved him—his strength then was modest.
But now, fortified by the small Huandan's ten-year boost, Alex felt unshakable. Even if the sect leaders united, he doubted they could stop him.
Not that ten years of inner strength outmatched them—many righteous disciples boasted decades of cultivation, and sect leaders far more. Alex's true edge lay in Magneto's genetic ability, now lifting over 200 kilograms of metal with ease. Against martial artists wielding cold steel, this power was a near-perfect counter. How could blades prevail when he could twist them mid-air?
Moreover, the small Huandan had revealed an unexpected gift. Beyond amplifying his inner strength and Magneto's ability, it expanded his C drive by 2G. After meticulous checks, Alex confirmed it. Could deeper cultivation further enlarge his C drive, extending his lifespan?
Legends of long-lived masters, even immortal cultivators with centuries of life, suddenly seemed plausible.
Lost in thoughts of his growing power and the C drive's potential, Alex wandered Hengshan City's bustling streets, the air thick with the scent of street food and incense. Suddenly, a young nun, tears streaming down her face, brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his in her haste.
"Brother Linghu, Brother Linghu, I—I…" she sobbed, her voice breaking as she called the name. After a few steps, she paused, casting a reluctant glance at a nearby restaurant, its lanterns swaying in the evening breeze.
"A nun? Could it be…" Alex's heart stirred, recognizing the scene from The Smiling, Proud Wanderer. With a swift sidestep, he headed toward the restaurant.
At the entrance, panicked guests spilled out, fleeing the clamor of combat echoing from the upper floor. Handing his horse to a wide-eyed waiter, Alex ignored warnings and ascended the stairs.
Upstairs, two figures clashed, seated yet locked in fierce combat. One, barely 20, wielded a long sword with fluid grace—Linghu Chong. The other, in his thirties, brandished a sharp knife, its blade a blur of lethal precision—Tian Boguang. The knife-wielder held the advantage, his strikes swift and relentless, marking him a first-class master.
Alex raised an eyebrow, scanning the near-empty restaurant. Only Linghu Chong and Tian Boguang remained. In the original tale, hadn't Qu Yang and his granddaughter observed this duel? A butterfly effect, perhaps?
Shrugging off the discrepancy, Alex claimed a seat nearby, settling in to watch the duel with casual interest, the clash of steel ringing in the air.
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