The three of them chatted about everything under the sun, killing time as the stars faded. Before they knew it, the sun had breached the eastern horizon. As daylight washed over the peaks, the casual conversation died away; their eyes sharpened, scanning the surroundings with renewed focus.

Perhaps the “Fire Waterfall” truly was a breathtaking spectacle unseen for two centuries. The rare phenomenon had drawn a surprising number of cultivators from their seclusion. As the morning progressed, a steady stream of travelers passed near their hiding spot.

Some sprinted across the rugged terrain, while others rode flying artifacts in flashy displays of wealth. They moved in boisterous groups or as solitary pilgrims, making the wilderness unusually lively.

Qin Lu and the Gu siblings remained motionless within the high-grade concealment array atop the peak. They watched every movement like hawks, but their target, Yang Zhen, was nowhere to be seen.

Just as the wait began to stretch their patience, a pillar of thick, brownish smoke erupted from a hillside thirty miles to the west. It pierced the sky, stark and undeniable against the blue.

The three of them shot to their feet instantly.

“The Wolf Smoke is up! Masks on, move out!” Gu Yue barked the order, her hand already summoning her flying artifact.

They tied black cloth over their faces, hiding their identities. Without a wasted second, they boarded the vessel and tore through the air toward the signal.

This was Li Qingdu’s contingency plan. The [Wolf Smoke Talisman] was an ancient distress signal; its activation meant Yang Zhen had been spotted, but it also implied complication. The plan demanded they rush to the location immediately to form an encirclement.

No one could be allowed to escape.

The battle had to be resolved with lightning speed.

Covering thirty miles at full burn took less time than drinking a cup of tea. As the wind howled past their ears, the chaotic scene ahead came into sharp focus.

High in the sky, two Foundation Establishment cultivators were locked in a duel to the death, their collisions sending shockwaves rolling like thunder. On the plains below, several figures were tangled in a desperate melee, with two large flying boats crashed nearby.

“Why have they engaged already?” Gu Yue asked, a frown creasing her brow beneath the mask.

The original plan was to track, encircle, and ambush—not to charge in headfirst.

“Forget the plan! Help them, now!” Qin Lu urged, his voice tight.

His spiritual sense cut through the chaos. The Foundation Establishment cultivator fighting in the air was Wu Zheng. If Wu Zheng’s squad had triggered the trap, then the ones fighting for their lives on the ground had to be Lu Anchen’s team.

“You fly! I’m going to support Wu Zheng!”

Gu Yue didn’t wait for a reply. She leaped from the deck, soaring upward to intercept the aerial duel.

Qin Lu reacted instantly, slamming his spiritual energy into the vessel’s control core. He seized control of the rudder, banking hard and diving toward the bloody skirmish on the plains.

“Ah! They have reinforcements!”

“Who are these people?!”

“Senior Brother Yang, what do we do?!”

The Immortal Crane Sect disciples below screamed in panic as the dark vessel plummeted toward them like a falling meteor. They had only come to witness the Fire Waterfall; they hadn’t expected to run into a band of ruthless marauders.

As Qin Lu closed the distance, the dire state of the battle became clear.

It was Lu Anchen and a loose cultivator ally against Yang Zhen’s squad of four—two men and two women.

To call it a fight was generous. It was a slaughter in slow motion. Lu Anchen was barely holding his ground, and his companion was clutching a stomach wound that pumped blood through his fingers.

Under the coordinated assault of Yang Zhen’s team, they were on the brink of disaster.

Whoosh!

Qin Lu and Gu Can abandoned the boat, diving like birds of prey. One wielded a sword, the other a spear, descending with the weight of judgment.

“Block them!” Yang Zhen roared, his face twisted in a mask of ferocity.

He was too late. The ambushers had arrived.

Clang!

Thud!

Two impacts shook the ground simultaneously.

Qin Lu’s [Seven Star Sword] crashed down with the force of an avalanche, only to be caught by Yang Zhen’s saber. Sparks sprayed like fireworks as the weapons locked.

Beside him, Gu Can’s heavy spear smashed into the earth, missing a skull by inches as an opponent scrambled away.

“Uncle Qin!” Lu Anchen cried out, his voice cracking with sheer relief.

He had resigned himself to death moments ago. To see Qin Lu appear from the sky was like seeing a guardian angel descend.

Qin Lu ignored the boy. His entire world narrowed down to the shocked face of Yang Zhen in front of him.

“Hey! Let’s see just how strong the top ranker really is!”

Qin Lu roared, launching himself forward. He unleashed the [Gray Shadow Sword Art] without hesitation.

His blade became a ghost. The Legend-rank proficiency transformed the steel into fluid shadow, creating a disorienting fan of afterimages that thrust toward Yang Zhen from an unimaginable angle.

The sheer weirdness of the angle forced Yang Zhen to recoil, frantically pulling his saber back to guard his throat.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Metal rang against metal in a rapid staccato.

Seeing the tide turn, Lu Anchen gritted his teeth and charged back into the fray, coordinating with Gu Can to pressure the other three disciples.

The battlefield dissolved into chaos once more.

Swish!

Qin Lu moved with terrifying speed. The passive stat boosts from his Legend-rank skills made him physically superior to a standard Qi Refining cultivator. Even against Yang Zhen—a peak Ninth Layer elite—Qin Lu felt like a predator toying with prey.

The Seven Star Sword danced in his grip, elegant yet lethal, forcing Yang Zhen backward with every step.

Yang Zhen was suffocating under the pressure. He couldn’t find a single opening to breathe, let alone counterattack.

Watching his opponent’s desperate flailing, a cold realization struck Qin Lu.

Wait. I’m supposed to be Level 8. I can’t look this dominant.

If he crushed a peak Level 9 genius this easily, his cover would be blown.

Qin Lu instantly throttled his output. He suppressed his strength by thirty percent, deliberately slowing his blade to create the illusion of a desperate struggle.

Thwip! Thwip!

While Qin Lu “struggled,” the other flank collapsed. The sounds of steel piercing flesh rang out.

Two of the female disciples from the Crane Sect crumbled to the ground, blood blooming across their robes. Their delicate faces were pale, eyes wide with the raw terror of impending death.

“Xiao Lian!”

Yang Zhen screamed, his composure shattering. He had never imagined a simple sightseeing trip would end in such catastrophe. What terrified him most was the masked man in front of him—an Eighth Layer cultivator who had seemingly limitless stamina.

Who is this monster?

Qin Lu’s peripheral vision caught movement in the distance. Several streaks of light were approaching fast.

The rest of the ambush party had arrived.

Qin Lu seized the moment to sell his performance. He feigned exhaustion and shouted, “Xiao Can! This bastard is tough! I need help!”

“On it!”

Gu Can roared, spinning his spear and charging toward Yang Zhen.

Qin Lu coordinated with Gu Can, guiding the fight with surgical precision to ensure it looked like a stalemate between three equals.

Boom!

A deafening explosion rocked the sky above them.

“You dog thieves!!” a voice bellowed from the clouds, followed immediately by silence.

Thud.

The aerial battle was over. Three of Li Qingdu’s Foundation Establishment experts had ganged up on the Immortal Crane Sect elder, beating him unconscious and capturing him alive.

“Elder Xu!” Yang Zhen sensed the collapse of his support. Despair twisted into madness. He glared at Qin Lu, his aura exploding with suicidal violence. “I’ll take you with me!!”

He raised his saber for a final, burning strike.

Before he could swing, a black shadow dropped from the sky like a lead weight.

The figure landed silently behind Yang Zhen. A hand chopped down on the disciple’s neck with mechanical precision.

Yang Zhen’s eyes rolled back, and he crumpled like a puppet with cut strings.

Li Qingdu stood over the body. He grabbed Yang Zhen by the collar, hoisting him up like a sack of grain. His expression was cold and stern as he scanned the bloodied clearing.

“Did anyone escape?”

“Rest assured, Shopkeeper. All five are accounted for,” Wu Zheng replied. He landed heavily nearby, his face pale and robes torn.

“Good. Move out.”

Li Qingdu gave the order and turned away. The team scrambled to collect the unconscious captives and scavenge the fallen artifacts, vanishing into the wilderness as quickly as they had arrived.