It had been three days since Sect Leader Qi and Elder Lü led the expeditionary force out of the valley.

For Han Yu, life had settled into a tense rhythm. Apart from his daily duties at the Battle Hall, he spent every spare moment cultivating behind closed doors in Elder Lü’s courtyard.

Through conversations with Sixteenth Senior Brother Tian Ziyue and Thirteenth Senior Sister Li Yunxia, Han Yu learned that his Master had brought three other disciples along for the siege on the Spirit Beast Sect.

The Battle Hall was half-empty. A heavy silence hung over Wanchun Valley, replacing the usual bustle of cultivation.

Whether it was the remaining Battle Hall disciples, the direct disciples of the Elders, or the circle around Bai Lingyun, everyone was on edge. Conversations were hushed, and speculation ran wild.

Even when Sun Kang, Liu Lan, and Zhong Yue came to visit, the topic inevitably drifted to the war.

“If the four sects are truly united, victory should be swift,” Sun Kang had said, though his brow remained furrowed.

“But if the Mystic One Sect and Little Sky Net Sect have other plans…” Liu Lan hadn’t finished the sentence, but the implication was clear. If their allies decided to stab them in the back at the critical moment, the outcome would be catastrophic.

This was the shadow looming over every disciple’s heart.

However, Elder Yan and Elder Bai remained calm.

Sect Leader Qi was a pragmatist; he had prepared for betrayal. The Spirit Sword Sect was equally cautious. With a powerhouse like Ye Guxing leading the charge, any treachery from the other two sects would be akin to digging their own graves.

Still, Wanchun Valley wasn’t taking chances.

Strict contingency plans had been activated. The Deacons and disciples at the Green Grain Market outside the Guardian Formation were ordered to flee at the first sign of collapse. Outer and Laborer disciples stationed beyond the main peak had designated escape routes to fallback positions within the inner sanctum.

On the main peak, every Deacon and Inner Disciple was on standby, ready to pour their Spiritual Power into the Grand Protective Formation at a moment’s notice.

That afternoon, after finishing his shift at the Battle Hall, Han Yu returned to his room. He opened his spirit beast bag and ushered his three crows inside, settling them among the other eighteen.

He now carried all twenty-one crows with him at all times.

Paranoia? Perhaps. But Han Yu preferred to call it preparation.

In fact, if not for Deacon Liu Mo’s intervention, Han Yu would have already liquidated his two Major Merits and ninety Minor Merits for offensive artifacts and talismans. He had wanted to turn himself into a walking arsenal.

“Relax, Han Yu,” Deacon Liu had told him with a weary smile, knowing the young man’s sudden rise in talent made him a valuable asset. “Wanchun Valley isn’t going to fall today. We aren’t at the brink of extinction just yet. Save your merits for when you truly need them.”

Han Yu had relented, but he kept his hand near his storage bag regardless.

He walked toward the entrance of Elder Lü’s courtyard. Suddenly, a streak of light descended from the sky.

It was Sheng Yan, riding a Magical Artifact. His face was flushed with excitement.

“Junior Brother Han! Great news!”

Han Yu immediately summoned his flying sword and rose to meet him. “Senior Brother Sheng, what happened?”

“Total victory!” Sheng Yan beamed. “The Spirit Beast Sect has been obliterated! The Southern Domain is down to four sects!”

He took a breath, practically vibrating with energy. “The Sect Leader sent a transmission. They’ve rescued tens of thousands of mortals and purged the Demonic Cultivators from the Ten Thousand Beasts Mountain Range. They’ll spend two days handing the civilians over to the Great Zhou Dynasty for resettlement, and then they’ll return!”

Han Yu felt a weight lift from his shoulders. A genuine smile touched his lips. “That is truly good news.”

The Spirit Beast Sect was dust. The alliance held. The Mystic One and Little Sky Net sects would return to the status quo, and peace would be restored to the Southern Domain. Finally, he could go back to cultivating in peace without looking over his shoulder.

As Sheng Yan and other Inner Disciples spread the word, a wave of jubilation swept through the main peak. Cheers erupted from the various courtyards, echoing off the valley walls.

Han Yu exhaled slowly. It was over.

Two days later, the fleet returned.

Sect Leader Qi, Elder Lü, and the Wanchun Valley contingent landed, accompanied by a delegation from the Spirit Sword Sect. Miraculously, not a single disciple had been killed; only two had suffered minor injuries.

The confirmation sent another wave of celebration through the valley. The enemy was gone. The threat was neutralized.

But the joy didn’t last.

As the details of the final battle circulated, the smiles vanished from the disciples’ faces. A chill replaced the warmth of victory.

The news was terrifying: Song Wanxiong’s dying roar. The “Nascent Soul Trap.” The revelation that a superior sect from the Central Heaven Domain was pulling the strings, using the Southern Domain as a colosseum and the Wanchun Valley earth vein as bait.

The Spirit Beast Sect had been a dark cloud over their heads, but now they realized that behind the cloud was a titan they couldn’t hope to fight.

Han Yu was summoned to the main hall. The atmosphere inside was heavy, suffocating. Sect Leader Qi and Elder Yan were briefing the core members on the grim reality.

“Song Wanxiong went mad,” Sect Leader Qi said, his voice grim. “He devoured the Essence Blood of his own sect—Golden Core elders, Deacons, disciples. He consumed a Golden Core ninth-layer spirit beast and countless mortals. He paid a horrific price to force his breakthrough.”

“He succeeded,” Elder Yan murmured, looking pale. “He truly became a Nascent Soul cultivator.”

“He did,” Qi nodded. “And then the Heavens struck him down.”

The room went silent as Qi described the scene—the apocalyptic lightning, the “Heavenly Tribulation” that pulverized Song Wanxiong and nearly killed Ye Guxing simply for standing too close.

“So… when a cultivator breaks through to the Nascent Soul realm, the Heavens try to kill them?” Elder Yan asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“How were we to know?” Sect Leader Qi sighed, looking aged. “Our ancestral manuals end at the Golden Core. We have fragments of legends, nothing more. When I traveled to the Central Heaven Domain, I heard whispers of ‘Tribulation Transcendence’ from disciples of great sects, but I thought it was a metaphor.”

“I have never seen it. Until today.”

“Even now,” Qi continued, “we don’t know the rules. How does one survive it? How powerful is it? It is a blind spot in our knowledge.”

Elder Lü leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “Tribulation Transcendence is a distant worry for us. In the entire Southern Domain, perhaps only Ye Guxing is qualified to fear the lightning.”

“Our problem is not the Heavens,” Lü said sharply. “It is people.”

“We destroyed the Spirit Beast Sect. But in twenty-six years, the Central Heaven Domain Sect will return. What then?”

“The Spirit Sword Sect is trustworthy,” Qi analyzed. “The Mystic One Sect… barely. But the Little Sky Net Sect? Their behavior was bizarre. They fled the battlefield immediately. We have no idea what they are plotting.”

Silence descended upon the hall. The victory felt hollow.

After a few moments, Elder Bai broke the silence, his voice thick with frustration. “This Upper Sect… do they want our earth vein? Our valley? Or just to see us bleed?”

“Why engineer such slaughter? We have no Nascent Soul cultivators. We are ants to them. They have nothing to gain—so why?”

“Why?”

It was the question haunting everyone. They pondered it, but the logic of the powerful was a locked door to them.

Seeing the discussion hitting a wall, a middle-aged woman from the Spirit Sword Sect stood up. A jagged scar ran down her face, giving her a fierce, intimidating appearance.

She bowed formally. “Sect Leader Qi, Elders. We accompanied you back to Wanchun Valley for a specific reason. I hope you Seniors will grant our request.”

Sect Leader Qi nodded politely. “Han Yu.”

Han Yu stepped forward from the back of the room. “Disciple is here.”

“Previously, during your duel with Li Tonghai, both of your mental states were… impacted,” Sect Leader Qi said, choosing his words carefully.

“Now that our sects are allies, we should encourage exchange. Why not have a few more matches?”

Qi’s tone was light, diplomatic. “Think of it as a friendly spar between fellow disciples. No need to distinguish victory or defeat. It may be uncomfortable at first, but it will help clear any lingering mental blockages.”

He was trying to protect the Spirit Sword Sect’s face.

But the scar-faced woman shook her head. Her expression was dead serious.

“Sect Leader Qi.”

“Li Tonghai’s mental state isn’t just impacted; it is unstable. His defeat here has become a demon in his heart. He needs tempering.”

She turned her gaze to Han Yu, her eyes sharp as blades.

“For this match, we ask that Han Yu holds nothing back.”

“Full power. No mercy. We must decide victory and defeat.”