The difference between Heaven-rank Lower-grade and Middle-grade was not merely a matter of sharpness; it was a qualitative leap in the laws of destruction. Before the upgrade, the Crimson Oath might have glanced off Zhao Batian’s dragon scales. Now? It threatened to cleave him in two.

Zhao Batian wasn’t foolish. Sensing the blade’s terrifying new edge, he abandoned the arrogance of catching it single-handed and clamped his palms together, sandwiching the weapon in a vice grip of lightning and scale.

“A growing Dharma Treasure?” He grinned, his eyes burning with greed. “Hehe… what a magnificent gift. I’ll be sure to pry it from your cold dead hands!”

Boom!

The sky tore open. Guided by Zhao Batian’s will, a bolt of lightning the width of a palace crashed down, aiming to vaporize Han Lie where he stood.

Han Lie didn’t blink. He wrenched the Crimson Oath free, sliding backward across the air as he swung the blade upward.

“Soul Severing!”

A wave of blood-red energy, hundreds of miles long, erupted from the blade. It wasn’t just energy; it was a physical manifestation of killing intent. The earth below groaned and split, chasms tens of thousands of feet deep ripping open like wounds in the planet’s flesh.

Zhao Batian roared, his voice merging with the thunder.

“Impressive for a lesser being! But against me? Insufficient!”

His hands flew through a series of complex seals. The atmospheric lightning twisted, coiling into a singular, titanic form.

“Dragon Transformation Secret Art: Soaring Dragon in the Heavens!”

A thunder dragon, endless and terrifying, surged upward. It collided with Han Lie’s blood-red blade beam in a cataclysm of light and sound.

BOOM!

The pocket dimension screamed. Space fractured. Everything within a thousand miles was erased, turned to ash by the shockwave of the collision.

Far away, Li Qingyu stopped mid-flight. Her delicate brows knit together as she felt the tremors in the ley lines.

“The Holy Son?”

That was Zhao Batian’s signature energy—violent, arrogant lightning. And it was clashing with something equally potent. She didn’t need to guess who it was. Only one person here had the audacity to push Zhao Batian this far.

Han Lie.

Li Qingyu vanished, tearing through space toward the source of the disturbance. Zhao Batian was strong, but Han Lie was a variable she could no longer ignore.

Meanwhile, in another sector.

“Fellow Daoist Han’s aura?”

Xiao Yuruo, having reunited with Elder Huang Hai, looked toward the horizon where the sky was still bleeding red energy.

“Young Pavilion Master,” Huang Hai stroked his beard, his face grave. “That’s undoubtedly Han Lie fighting the Sun Moon Sect’s brat. Should we intervene?”

“Immediately,” Xiao Yuruo said, her tone brookng no argument.

It wasn’t a lack of faith in Han Lie’s prowess. It was the math. Zhao Batian was dangerous, but Li Qingyu—a Nascent Soul powerhouse—was a disaster waiting to happen. If she arrived first, Han Lie would be crushed.

“We move. Now.”

The dust began to settle over the crater that had once been a forest.

Han Lie hovered in the air, one arm securely wrapped around Bai Ling’s waist. He lowered the energy barrier he’d erected to shield her.

“Thank you, Brother Lie!” Bai Ling gasped, clinging to him.

Han Lie ignored her, his eyes fixed forward. He gently pushed her away. “Go. Stay out of range.”

Across the crater, Zhao Batian floated unharmed, the Silver Thunder Umbrella spinning lazily by his right hand. The clash had been a draw.

“Round two?” Han Lie asked, raising his saber.

Crack!

Space ripped open like wet fabric. A woman stepped out from the void, her presence heavy enough to warp the light around her.

Li Qingyu.

The pressure of a Nascent Soul cultivator descended instantly, pressing down on Han Lie’s shoulders like a mountain range.

“Looks like your luck has run out, Han Lie,” Zhao Batian sneered, his confidence returning in a rush.

Han Lie remained impassive. “Is that so? To this senior, it looks like your luck is the problem.”

Crack!

Another tear appeared in reality. Two figures stepped through, their swords radiating a sharp, defiant intent.

Xiao Yuruo and Huang Hai.

Zhao Batian’s smug grin vanished. “Xiao Yuruo! Are you a ghost? Why won’t you leave me be?!”

“The more you scream, the more I know I’m right,” Xiao Yuruo replied, her voice cool and unbothered.

“Persistent wretches,” Li Qingyu hissed, her aura flaring. “Do not think I won’t kill you all just because of your sect.”

“Hehe, threatening the younger generation?” Han Lie chuckled, stepping forward to stand beside Xiao Yuruo. “If Fairy Li wants a dance, this poor Daoist is more than happy to lead.”

“Indeed,” Huang Hai added, stepping up with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I wonder, can your Holy Son survive the combined might of my Young Master and Fellow Daoist Han?”

Zhao Batian’s face went black. Han Lie alone was a nightmare. Han Lie and Xiao Yuruo? That was a death sentence.

His eyes darted between them, and slowly, a twisted, venomous smile spread across his draconic features.

“Xiao Yuruo… I see now. I understand why you protect him so fiercely.”

He pointed a claw at them, his voice dripping with malice.

“You and this trash, Han Lie… you’re sleeping together, aren’t you? The pristine Young Pavilion Master of the Myriad Sword Pavilion spreading her legs for a Heavenly Void Sect servant disciple! Oh, if this gets out… the scandal alone will shatter your sect’s reputation!”

“Imagine the headlines! The ‘Ice-Clear Jade Woman’ defiled by a lowly servant! Hahahaha! It’s too perfect!”

“Ah? This…” Bai Ling, hiding in the distance, covered her mouth. She looked from Han Lie to Xiao Yuruo. It… it actually made sense.

“Presumptuous!” Huang Hai roared, his face flushing red with rage. “You dare slander my Young Master with your filth?!”

He raised his hand to strike, but Li Qingyu waved a sleeve, dissipating his energy effortlessly.

“Hahaha! Look at them panic!” Zhao Batian laughed maniacally. “If it’s a lie, why are you so terrified? Why is the old dog barking so loud?”

“Bullshit!” Huang Hai spat, trembling with fury. But with Li Qingyu blocking the way, he couldn’t silence the brat.

“Elder Huang, calm down,” Xiao Yuruo said softly. “He seeks to divide us.”

“Young Master!” Huang Hai pleaded. “You know how the world works! If this rumor spreads, the truth won’t matter! Your reputation will be ashes!”

Han Lie frowned. The old man was right. In the cultivation world, perception was reality. He looked at Xiao Yuruo, silently urging her to deny it, to save face.

She met his gaze. Her eyes were clear, devoid of shame or hesitation.

She turned to Huang Hai, her voice steady and loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Elder Huang, do not worry about rumors.”

She paused, lifting her chin in defiance.

“Because this is not a rumor. Fellow Daoist Han and I… are indeed involved.”