That the combat standards of Wanchun Valley were mediocre was an open secret. Both Supreme Elder Yin Hong and Deacon Fang Shiyi knew it well.

If it were otherwise, Wanchun Valley wouldn’t have been humiliated so thoroughly in the past, nor would the Spirit Beast Sect and the demonic cultivators have viewed them as “meat on the chopping block”—helpless prey to be carved up at will.

But knowing it was one thing; saying it to the faces of the Sect Leader and Elders was another matter entirely.

After sharply reprimanding Li Tonghai, Yin Hong turned to Sect Leader Qi with an apologetic bow. “Sect Leader Qi, this disciple of mine spoke out of turn. He lacks discipline. I hope you can overlook his rudeness.”

Sect Leader Qi nodded stiffly, his gaze shifting to Elders Yan and Lu.

I don’t know the details of the Outer Sect competition, his eyes said. You explain.

Elder Yan caught the signal immediately. He stepped forward, his voice steady. “Han Yu possesses a monstrous, innate talent for spellcasting. He masters techniques with terrifying speed and precision. In the competition, he defeated several disciples at the sixth layer of Qi Refining in fair, open combat to claim the title of First Disciple.”

Hearing this explanation, realization dawned on Yin Hong, Fang Shiyi, and Li Tonghai. It wasn’t that the standard was low; it was that the anomaly was high.

Li Tonghai hurriedly bowed deeply, the hilt of the greatsword on his back dipping with him. “This junior was ignorant and spoke recklessly. I beg the seniors of Wanchun Valley to forgive me!”

Sect Leader Qi’s expression softened. “No harm done. You were simply speaking your mind.” He chuckled. “Wanchun Valley has historically lacked disciples skilled in direct combat. To suddenly have one appear is indeed an outlier. Han Yu’s cultivation may be modest, but he has killed spies and demonic cultivators in life-or-death battles. His practical combat ability is genuine.”

Li Tonghai’s eyes lit up with surprise. He turned to Han Yu, his previous disdain replaced by curiosity. “Senior Brother Han, you’ve personally killed a demonic cultivator?”

Han Yu nodded calmly.

Li Tonghai’s competitive itch flared. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I killed one too. Though, to be honest, I almost died in the process. It was a close shave…”

Seeing the two juniors chatting like old friends, Sect Leader Qi seized the opportunity to extend the hospitality. “It seems the young ones have hit it off. Elder Yin, why rush to leave?”

He gestured back toward the hall. “Stay a while longer. Perhaps sample some of Wanchun Valley’s humble fare?”

Yin Hong saw the genuine enthusiasm on Li Tonghai’s face and decided not to dampen the mood. He smiled. “A meal won’t be necessary, but we would not say no to another cup of that Spirit Tea. The flavor was elegant and ethereal—truly refreshing for the Dao heart.”

Sect Leader Qi laughed heartily and invited the group back into the main hall.

As the elders settled back into their seats, Li Tonghai turned to Han Yu, his eyes burning with eagerness.

“Senior Brother Han, shall we compare notes on swordsmanship?”

Han Yu raised an eyebrow. “Senior Brother Li, I don’t specialize in the sword. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much of a conversationalist.”

“Then treat it as a spar,” Li Tonghai pressed.

“You are at the eighth layer of Qi Refining. I am at the fourth,” Han Yu pointed out calmly. “How would that be a contest?”

“It’s fine! I’ll suppress my cultivation,” Li Tonghai insisted, his hands practically twitching toward his hilt. “I just want to see how you killed that demonic cultivator. And I’ll show you how I killed mine…”

Han Yu realized then that this disciple from the Spirit Sword Sect was a true battle junkie. It explained why Li Tonghai had been so restless back at the Spirit Field Department, practicing his sword forms day in and day out.

Are all Spirit Sword Sect disciples this straightforward? Han Yu wondered. Do they all act on impulse?

It was a stark contrast to the peaceful, almost passive atmosphere of Wanchun Valley.

By now, several deacons and Inner Disciples were looking over with unconcealed curiosity.

“Senior Brother Li,” Han Yu said, glancing around. “This isn’t exactly the place for a fight.”

“We can go to your arena,” Li Tonghai suggested instantly.

Han Yu opened his mouth to decline, but Elder Yan’s voice drifted out from the hall.

“No need to go far. Just spar in front of the Great Cauldron. Let it be a friendly exchange.”

Elder Lu walked out, beaming. “Han Yu, take this chance to learn from the Spirit Sword Sect’s prodigy. It will help you avoid panic in future battles. Don’t worry about winning or losing.”

With the sect elders giving their blessing—and clearly wanting a show—Han Yu had no choice. He nodded and walked with Li Tonghai to the open space in front of the massive bronze cauldron.

The plaza quickly filled with spectators. Deacons and disciples formed a ring. Even Sect Leader Qi, Yin Hong, and the other high-ranking elders abandoned their tea to stand on the hall’s steps, watching with amused smiles.

To them, this was merely entertainment—a way for the juniors to bond.

The two combatants took their positions.

“Senior Brother Han, you attack first,” Li Tonghai said, standing with the casual confidence of an expert.

“Alright.”

Han Yu didn’t waste words. His hands blurred in a rapid seal.

Sharp Gold Technique.

A golden sheen coated his flying sword.

In the next heartbeat, Han Yu’s figure flickered and split.

One becomes three.

Three identical Han Yus appeared, charging at Li Tonghai from the left, center, and right. Each figure gripped a sword, their movements synchronized and aggressive.

“Caw!”

Simultaneously, the large raven on Han Yu’s shoulder launched itself into the air. It opened its beak and spat four consecutive wind blades, the crescent arcs of compressed air screaming toward Li Tonghai from above.

The sudden explosion of violence stunned the Wanchun Valley spectators. Even Sect Leader Qi and Elder Yin blinked in surprise.

“Ferocious,” Deacon Fang Shiyi murmured. “His combat style is incredibly aggressive. He truly deserves the title of First Disciple.”

How can such a fierce fighter exist in the gentle Wanchun Valley?

Li Tonghai watched the assault—wind blades from the sky, three figures charging on the ground. He thought to himself, A year has passed, and he’s become so much stronger. No wonder he could kill a demon.

A surge of heroic spirit roared in his chest. Li Tonghai channeled his Spirit Breath.

His sword hummed, erupting with blinding light.

Slash!

With a single, fluid upward stroke, he shattered the four wind blades.

Immediately, Li Tonghai pivoted, his blade sweeping horizontally in a devastating arc to intercept the Han Yu attacking from his left.

The blade passed through empty air. A phantom.

Although Li Tonghai’s cultivation was high and his sword was fast, two strikes still took time. In that split second, the other two Han Yu figures were already upon him.

Having lost the initiative, Li Tonghai was forced to retreat. He stepped back, his sword slashing down diagonally in a defensive screen to cut down the remaining attackers.

“The Spirit Sword Sect’s offense is truly sharp!” Sect Leader Qi praised, watching the fluid defense.

Yin Hong, however, narrowed his eyes. His expression turned subtle.

“But… he lost.”

As the words left the Supreme Elder’s mouth, Li Tonghai’s sword cleaved through the two figures in front of him.

They dissolved into smoke.

Li Tonghai froze, his eyes wide with shock.

Both fake?

Where is he?

A cold sensation prickled at the back of his neck.

Slowly, Han Yu’s figure materialized from thin air behind him. The tip of the golden-enhanced flying sword hovered inches from Li Tonghai’s spine.

Li Tonghai, caught in the chaos of battle, hadn’t seen it. But the elders on the steps had seen everything clearly.

Han Yu hadn’t created two phantoms—he had created three. He had used a visual distortion spell to project three attackers while cloaking his real body in invisibility, slipping into Li Tonghai’s blind spot the moment the wind blades drew his eyes upward.

Li Tonghai, a sword cultivator at the eighth layer of Qi Refining, had completely failed to detect the true threat until the blade was at his back. In terms of raw power, Li Tonghai was superior. But in terms of combat tactics? He had been dismantled.

Li Tonghai turned around stiffly, looking like a dumbstruck goose.

“I… I lost? Just like that?”

“If this were real combat, you would already be dead,” Yin Hong said, his voice stern but approving. He looked at Han Yu with new appreciation. “What a terrifyingly skilled disciple.”

“Though you are only at the fourth layer of Qi Refining, I daresay few in the Qi Refining stage across the entire Southern Region could match you in a death match.”

Yin Hong paused, critiquing gently. “However, your swordplay lacks structure. It is merely a tool for your spells.”

He reached into his sleeve, produced a Jade Slip, and tossed it to Han Yu.

“This contains a sword technique I created years ago. Consider it a prize for this exchange.”

Han Yu caught the jade slip but didn’t immediately pocket it. He glanced at the Wanchun Valley elders.

Sect Leader Qi was beaming, his pride radiating off him. He nodded. “Accept it. Your talent is rare, and you will be a pillar of the Sect in the future. Do not disappoint Elder Yin’s kind intentions.”

Elder Lu was grinning so hard his eyes had disappeared, waving his hand to signal Han Yu to take the gift.

Han Yu bowed respectfully to the Spirit Sword Sect elder. “Thank you, Senior Yin.”