Gu Xiu’s demonstration left the others baffled, but Wan Xiaobei’s heart pounded against her ribs like a war drum. She nodded, her voice trembling with adrenaline.

“I… I saw it clearly!”

“Good. Now, you try.”

“Huh?” Wan Xiaobei froze, her mind going blank.

Before she could process the command, a sharp whistle pierced the air.

SCREECH!

The black-robed assassins waved their sleeves, and a flock of Golden Claw Divine Eagles burst forth. These were Rank 4 Demon Beasts—not as venomous as the serpents, but far, far faster. They were golden blurs, tearing through the air to shred the two cultivators apart.

Panic seized Wan Xiaobei’s heart.

“Focus,” Gu Xiu’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and grounding. “Circulate the Falling Rain Art. Feel the intent, not the form.”

“Turn your back to the lamp; the solitary shadow stands clear.”

“The incense grows cold; the clouds hang low.”

“Use your heart. Comprehend.”

The poetic mantra carried a strange, soul-soothing power. It washed over Wan Xiaobei, silencing the screams of battle and the screeching of eagles. The world narrowed. Her fear evaporated. At that moment, she felt as if she had merged with that solitary figure standing on the bridge in her vision.

She opened her eyes.

The world had changed.

It wasn’t frozen, exactly. But everything was moving through molasses. The frantic flapping of the eagle’s wings, the falling rain, the shouting guards—it all crawled in slow motion.

Rain Falling Forms a Realm!

But elation was quickly replaced by shock. Her Spiritual Qi was evaporating at a terrifying rate. Her cultivation base was too shallow to sustain this domain!

“Don’t waste time,” Gu Xiu’s voice drifted in.

Wan Xiaobei gritted her teeth. Mimicking Gu Xiu, she reached out and snatched a single, slow-moving raindrop from the air. She lacked his transcendent Sword Intent, so she poured everything she had into raw force.

She punched the raindrop.

Hum.

A fist shadow materialized within the water droplet. It was dim and blurry compared to Gu Xiu’s crystalline sword, but it was there.

Wan Xiaobei opened her palm.

Poof!

The raindrop shattered.

The domain collapsed instantly. The world snapped back to full speed.

Wan Xiaobei staggered, her face pale as a sheet. The technique had stripped her Dantian nearly dry in a single second. But she didn’t have time to faint. The Golden Claw Divine Eagles were inches away.

As expected!

Ssss!

The shattered raindrop exploded into a mist, and that mist transformed into thousands of tiny fist shadows.

The eagles were fast, but in a sky filled with rain, speed was irrelevant.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The majestic raptors were blasted out of the sky as if swatted by an invisible giant. They crashed onto the deck, feathers flying, screeching in agony. They weren’t dead, but their bones were shattered.

“Yes!” Wan Xiaobei pumped her fist excitedly.

But the victory came at a cost. Her knees buckled, her body completely drained of strength. She frantically grabbed several pill bottles from her storage ring, uncorking them and tilting her head back.

Glug, glug, glug.

She downed the pills like water. Color returned to her cheeks, but she knew she wouldn’t be fighting again anytime soon. She glanced at Gu Xiu with a bizarre expression.

One usage had nearly crippled her. Yet he stood there, completely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just suppressed an entire battlefield.

I’m a Grand Perfection Foundation Establishment cultivator, a Half-step Golden Core! How can his Spiritual Qi be deeper than mine when he only condensed his second Dao Platform half a month ago?

“I underestimated you.”

A cold snort interrupted her thoughts.

From the shadows, another Golden Core expert stepped forward. Having seen two waves of surprise attacks fail, he decided to end this farce personally.

The Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion guards tried to intercept him, but the beast tide held them back. The White Qilin Sect’s sheer numbers and endless stream of spirit beasts were suffocating.

The Golden Core assassin sneered, blurring into motion. He appeared instantly before Gu Xiu, leaping high into the air.

He descended like a meteor, his foot aiming directly for Gu Xiu’s face.

He was a Golden Core. He would trample this Foundation Establishment insect into the dirt!

“Guest Elder, watch out!” Elder Chen roared from outside the formation, his heart burning with anxiety. Facing a Golden Core head-on was suicide!

Gu Xiu did not dodge.

He watched the descending boot—heavy with the force of a mountain, like a stallion trampling a flying swallow—and simply raised his head.

Bang!

The assassin’s sneer froze.

He felt his foot hit an invisible wall. A tyrannical wave of Spiritual Qi, dense and unyielding, surged up to meet him, blocking his stomp mid-air.

How is this possible?

The assassin knew Gu Xiu had sharp Sword Qi, but he never expected a Foundation Establishment cultivator to block a physical stomp with raw power alone.

Gu Xiu didn’t even look at him. His gaze drifted past the assassin, piercing through the chaotic battlefield to lock eyes with the Soul Formation expert hiding in the shadows outside.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes conveyed a clear message:

Five hundred years have passed. Is this the best the White Qilin Sect has to offer?

“Kid, you dare look down on me?!”

The Golden Core assassin caught the contempt in Gu Xiu’s eyes and exploded with rage. Golden light erupted from his pupils, his aura skyrocketing.

He backflipped through the air, gathering momentum.

“Beast Fusion!”

The spectral image of a roaring bear superimposed over his body. He borrowed the brute strength of his bonded spirit beast, fusing it into his own flesh and blood.

He stomped down again, this time with enough force to shatter the deck and the man standing on it!

“Guest Elder Feng! Don’t tank it!”

“Dodge! You can’t block that!”

The onlookers screamed.

Gu Xiu ignored them. He watched the second stomp descending, his expression placid. He didn’t summon his sword. He didn’t activate a technique.

He simply clenched his fist.

And punched.

Straight up.

Boom!

Fist met foot.

The airship shuddered violently. A shockwave rippled out, knocking nearby cultivators off their feet.

Then, a figure went flying.

It wasn’t Gu Xiu.

The Golden Core assassin tumbled backward through the air, frantically stepping on the wind to regain his balance. He landed heavily, staggering back several paces before stabilizing. He looked up, eyes wide with horror.

Gu Xiu had slid back two steps. He shook his hand casually.

“Impossible…” the assassin whispered, his voice trembling. “You blocked my full power… with purely physical force?”

There were no tricks. No artifacts. It was a direct collision of Dantian reserves. A clash of raw quantity and quality.

And the Foundation Establishment cultivator had won.

The assassin felt a chill run down his spine. If he hadn’t been a Golden Core—if he hadn’t used his full power at the last second—that punch would have shattered his leg.

What kind of monster is this?

Gu Xiu dusted off his shoulder, analyzing the exchange.

Three layers of the Dao Platform. With the Indestructible Dao Platform and the Immortal Gate Dao Platform, I can match a Golden Core’s full strike. But I still lack the overwhelming force to crush them instantly with raw power alone.

He looked up at the terrified assassin and clapped his hands.

“Testing complete. I’ll give you a quick death now.”

What?

Alarm bells screamed in the assassin’s mind. He instinctively flared his protective Golden Core barrier, a shield that could withstand bombardment from dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators.

But the moment the shield formed, his body went rigid.

He looked down blankly.

There was a hole in his shield.

And directly behind it, a bloody hole in his chest.

He fell forward, hitting the deck with a dull thud. Dead.

Silence descended on the interior of the ship.

The Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion disciples stared, mouths agape. Had their Guest Elder just… punched a Golden Core to death? Or was it a sword? They hadn’t even seen him move!

Did he advance to Golden Core in half a month? Impossible!

The remaining White Qilin Sect experts, however, snapped out of their shock quickly.

“Something is wrong with him!”

“Kill him! Now!”

“Stop holding back! Summon every beast you have!”

They had assumed their numbers guaranteed victory. Even a peerless genius would fall to ten Golden Core experts working in unison. But seeing one of their own cut down like a weed changed everything.

This man was a threat. An existential one.

Roar! Screech! Hiss!

Portals of light opened across the deck. Wolves, tigers, serpents, hawks—a veritable tide of Demon Beasts flooded the cramped space, surging toward Gu Xiu like a tsunami of claws and fangs.

Gu Xiu watched the approaching horde without a flicker of emotion.

He raised his right hand.

Darkness pooled in his palm, coalescing into a sleek, ink-black blade.

The Shadow Chasing Sword.

He had once been the genius of his generation, a man who feared nothing under the heavens. Five hundred years in the Forbidden Realm had stripped him of many things, but it had not taught him fear.

“To kill one is a crime.”

Gu Xiu took a step forward.

“To kill two is a sin.”

He swung his sword.

“But this…”

“This is butchering.”

No more words. No more hesitation. From the moment the White Qilin Sect attacked, the outcome was decided.

Either they died, or he lived.

Gu Xiu walked forward. He didn’t run. He didn’t fly. He simply walked.

Step. Slash.

A Golden Core expert’s head flew into the air.

Step. Thrust.

A massive spirit tiger collapsed, its heart pierced.

At first, the White Qilin Sect experts tried to overwhelm him with coordination. But as the bodies piled up—beast and master alike—panic began to set in.

They attacked in groups of three. They attacked in groups of five.

It didn’t matter.

Gu Xiu was a ghost in the rain. He side-stepped claws by a millimeter. He parried lethal strikes with a flick of his wrist. And every time his sword moved, something died.

He was not fighting. He was harvesting.

His Spiritual Qi, which should have been exhausted long ago, surged like a boundless ocean. There was no fatigue. No weakening. Just the rhythmic, terrifying efficiency of a butcher working through a herd.

Wan Xiaobei watched from behind, her eyes shining with awe.

These were Beast Tamers! Experts who could fight armies alone! Yet before Gu Xiu, they were nothing more than chickens waiting for the knife.

She clutched her chest, a singular thought echoing in her mind.

Sister Rumei… your judgment isn’t just good. It’s god-tier!