The command pavilion stood at the very heart of the temporary military encampment, its broad white canopy casting a welcome patch of shade against the warm afternoon sun. Crimson banners embroidered with the emblem of the Black Iron Mercenary Group fluttered gently from the supporting pillars while a dozen armored guards remained motionless around the entrance, their expressions as disciplined as carved stone.
Inside, the atmosphere was strikingly different.
A large circular banquet table occupied the center of the pavilion, surrounded by the highest-ranking officers of the Black Iron Mercenary Group. Seven Golden Vein Realm generals sat alongside Commander Liu Tong, while Elder Hang and the remaining members of the Cloud Peak Sect occupied the seats reserved for honored guests.
Freshly prepared dishes covered the polished table.
Bowls of colorful fried rice released gentle wisps of steam.
Warm flatbread rested beneath folded white cloth.
Crystal pitchers filled with pale golden lemonade caught the afternoon sunlight, tiny slices of spirit lemon drifting lazily beneath the clear surface.
The conversation flowed as naturally as the meal itself.
One broad-shouldered general scooped another mouthful of fried rice into his bowl before shaking his head with open admiration.
"I’ll admit it."
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before nodding to himself.
"That woman defeated our kitchens fairly."
Another general laughed as he tore a piece of warm flatbread in half.
"If Old Han were still alive..."
He dipped the bread into the vegetable stew.
"...he’d probably lock himself inside the kitchens for a month."
Several officers chuckled.
"He’d call it secluded cultivation."
"No."
"He’d call it culinary enlightenment."
Laughter spread around the table.
Even Liu Tong allowed himself a faint smile as he lifted his cup of lemonade.
"The old fool lost..."
He took an unhurried sip before setting the cup down.
"...but at least he lost to someone worthy."
Several generals nodded.
No bitterness remained over the competition.
Among soldiers, strength deserved respect.
Whether that strength came from a blade...
Or a kitchen.
Across the table, Elder Hang quietly sampled another spoonful of fried rice.
Although he rarely praised others openly, even he had to admit the meal possessed extraordinary balance. Every ingredient retained its own character without overwhelming the rest, while the spiritual essence hidden inside the vegetables remained unusually complete.
He slowly lowered his spoon.
"...Remarkable."
One of Liu Tong’s generals immediately laughed.
"Elder Hang."
"We finally found something capable of impressing you."
Another officer grinned.
"If this campaign survives long enough..."
"...perhaps we’ll simply steal Elder Muo."
The pavilion erupted with another wave of laughter.
One general reached toward the clay pitcher and poured himself another cup of lemonade.
"I still don’t understand this drink."
He raised the cup toward the sunlight.
"It’s sour."
"It’s sweet."
"It even has salt."
He shrugged.
"...Somehow it works."
Another general lifted his own cup.
"Whatever she put into it..."
"...I wouldn’t mind drinking it every day."
The officers raised their cups together before continuing the meal.
Everything felt peaceful.
Then the general holding the clay cup frowned.
His fingers tightened slightly around the rim.
"...Strange."
The officer seated beside him looked over.
"What is it?"
The general slowly lowered the cup onto the table.
"I suddenly..."
His free hand rose toward his chest.
"...feel..."
The final word never left his mouth.
His entire body stiffened.
The clay cup slipped from his fingers.
It struck the polished tabletop once before rolling over the edge.
The sharp crack of shattering pottery echoed through the pavilion.
Every conversation stopped.
The general remained seated exactly where he was.
His hand still pressed against his chest.
His breathing became shallow.
A thin tremor spread through his arm before rapidly climbing toward his shoulder.
Liu Tong’s brows drew together.
"General Zhao?"
The man tried to answer.
His lips moved.
No sound emerged.
The veins beneath his neck bulged violently as though something invisible had wrapped itself around his entire body. Blood slowly gathered at the corners of his eyes before tracing thin crimson lines across his face.
The officer sitting beside him immediately pushed back his chair.
"General!"
He reached forward to support him.
The instant his hand touched the general’s shoulder...
His own expression changed.
His breathing caught.
His fingers instinctively pressed against his own ribs.
"...Commander..."
His voice trembled.
"...something..."
A violent spasm ripped through his body.
He stumbled backward, knocking his chair onto its side before collapsing heavily across the banquet table.
Bowls overturned.
Hot soup spilled across polished wood.
Ceramic plates crashed onto the floor.
The remaining generals shot to their feet.
"What is happening?"
Before anyone could take a single step...
A third general suddenly clutched both hands against his throat.
His eyes widened with disbelief.
His spiritual energy erupted instinctively.
Golden Vein Realm cultivation burst from his body like a violent storm, shaking the entire pavilion.
For one terrifying heartbeat...
Nothing happened.
Then...
His scream shook the command pavilion. His pupils lost focus.
The light vanished.
His body became limp.
The remaining generals instinctively retreated from the collapsing table, their hands already reaching for their weapons before reason caught up with fear.
"Someone answer me!"
"Call every physician in the camp!"
One general staggered only two steps before his body suddenly lurched forward. His fingers dug violently into his own chest as grey spiritual energy erupted around him without restraint.
His face twisted beyond recognition.
Every vein beneath his skin bulged grotesquely.
Blood slowly seeped from the corners of his eyes.
He tried to suppress the surging spiritual energy.
The harder he resisted...
The more violently his body convulsed.
A hoarse scream escaped his throat before abruptly cutting off.
His knees buckled.
The general collapsed face-first onto the banquet table, scattering bowls of unfinished food across the pavilion.
Almost simultaneously, another commander dropped to one knee. Both hands clawed desperately at his throat as though invisible fingers had wrapped themselves around his neck. His lips moved frantically, struggling to form words that never came. Only a broken gasp escaped before his body pitched sideways, crashing heavily against one of the supporting pillars.
The thick wooden column shuddered beneath the impact.
He slowly slid downward, leaving a streak of fresh blood behind him before coming to rest without another movement.
Panic finally erupted.
The last two generals looked at one another, disbelief replacing every trace of battlefield composure.
"This isn’t an attack..."
One of them whispered.
"...What’s happening to us?"
The answer arrived before anyone could speak.
Pain exploded through both men at the same instant.
Their spiritual energy burst outward instinctively, filling the command pavilion with violent crimson fluctuations. The pressure rolled across the room like a storm, overturning chairs and sending cups, plates, and serving bowls crashing onto the floor.
One general screamed.
The other never found the strength.
They collapsed almost together, one striking the shattered banquet table while the other fell heavily across the polished floor, his lifeless hand stopping only inches from Liu Tong’s feet.
Silence lasted only a heartbeat.
Then another figure staggered forward.
"Elder Hang..."
His voice trembled so violently that each word sounded ready to break apart.
"...Help me..."
The Cloud Peak Sect elder vanished from his seat almost instantly, appearing beside the dying commander in a blur. His palm pressed firmly against the officer’s back as a steady stream of pure spiritual energy poured into the man’s meridians.
Elder Hang’s expression gradually stiffened.
His spiritual sense swept through every pathway inside the officer’s body.
The meridians remained complete.
The dantian showed no sign of damage.
Every organ appeared perfectly healthy.
Nothing...
Nothing explained why life was vanishing before his eyes.
The officer suddenly grabbed Elder Hang’s sleeve with astonishing strength.
His lips trembled.
Blood spilled slowly from the corner of his mouth.
"...Save..."
The final word dissolved into silence.
His fingers loosened.
The grip slipped away.
The body collapsed lifelessly against Elder Hang’s arm.
For the first time in many years...
A trace of genuine shock appeared in Elder Hang’s eyes.
Across the pavilion...
Every one of Liu Tong’s seven Golden Vein Realm generals...
Had fallen.
Elder Hang slowly withdrew his hand.
His face gradually turned pale.
"...Impossible."
Elder Hang looked down at his own palm.
The spiritual energy he had just injected...
Had accomplished absolutely nothing.
Not because it wasn’t strong enough.
Because...
There had been nothing left to save.
Their voices overlapped one another until no order could be understood.
The heavy curtain covering the entrance of the command pavilion was suddenly thrown aside.
A military physician stumbled inside.
His once-pristine white robes had long since been stained dark crimson. Dust covered his boots, blood clung to both sleeves, and his breathing came in harsh, uneven gasps as though every step had been forced from a body already standing at its limit.
The officers gathered around the command table instinctively turned toward him.
The physician barely managed three more steps before dropping to one knee. One trembling hand pressed against the floor to steady himself while he struggled to regain enough breath to speak.
"Commander..."
The heavy canvas covering the entrance was thrown aside.
A military physician stumbled into the command pavilion, nearly losing his footing before catching himself against one of the wooden pillars. His robes were soaked with blood and dust clung to every fold of fabric. His chest rose and fell violently as though each breath had been torn from his lungs by force.
Liu Tong slowly turned his head.
Around him, the bodies of the generals and senior officers still lay scattered across the pavilion floor, their lifeless eyes fixed upon the ceiling. Only Elder Hang remained standing beside him.
The physician took two unsteady steps forward before dropping heavily onto one knee.
"Commander..."
His voice cracked.
Liu Tong’s gaze settled upon the kneeling physician.
"What happened?"
The physician drew several ragged breaths before forcing himself to answer.
"Commander..."
His voice remained strained.
"The entire encampment has fallen into chaos."
"The eastern battalions."
"The western cavalry."
"The supply divisions."
"The formation halls."
"The medical camps."
I understand the frustration. The problem with my earlier versions is that I kept making the physician recite a report, when what you want is a scene. The dialogue should sound like a man who has just run through hell, while Liu Tong gradually goes from calm → confused → shocked. Also, there should be no fragmented one-liners. Here’s a rewrite of only this scene.
---
The physician’s breathing remained ragged as he struggled to force enough air into his lungs. His bloodstained hands pressed against the wooden floor while he lowered his head before Liu Tong.
"Commander... the camp has descended into complete chaos."
Liu Tong’s brows furrowed for the first time.
"What happened?"
The physician shook his head.
"This subordinate doesn’t know."
His voice had become hoarse from shouting across the camp.
"Every road this subordinate crossed... there were bodies everywhere. The eastern battalions... the cavalry... the supply divisions... even the medical camps. Cultivators kept collapsing without warning. We couldn’t even move the first patients before more were brought to us."
His breathing became heavier.
"We examined every one of them."
His fingers slowly tightened against the floor.
"There were no wounds. Their meridians were completely intact. Their dantians hadn’t suffered the slightest damage, and their spiritual seas remained perfectly stable. We administered high-grade medicinal pills, activated healing formations, and used spirit needles... but nothing changed."
A heavy silence settled inside the pavilion.
Liu Tong stared at the physician, disbelief slowly replacing the composure that had never left his face.
"If there were no injuries..."
His eyes narrowed.
"...then why are they dying?"
The physician’s lips trembled.
He opened his mouth several times before the answer finally escaped.
"This subordinate... cannot explain it."
His eyes gradually reddened.
"They simply fell... and never stood up again."
For the first time, genuine confusion appeared in Liu Tong’s eyes.
That expression had barely appeared when the physician suddenly frowned.
A strange numbness crept across his fingertips.
He instinctively looked down at his own hand and tried to close it, but his fingers no longer obeyed him.
"...What..."
The numbness spread through his wrist and climbed rapidly toward his shoulder.
His breathing became uneven.
Blood slowly seeped from the corners of his eyes.
Realization flashed across his face.
"No..."
He staggered backward, clutching desperately at his chest as every muscle in his body locked in place. His legs gave way beneath him, and he crashed heavily onto the floor. His lips continued moving, desperately trying to say something, but no sound escaped. A few violent convulsions ran through his body before all movement ceased completely.
He collapsed heavily onto the stone floor.
The sound echoed throughout the silent pavilion.
Neither Liu Tong nor Elder Hang spoke.
Both stood motionless, their eyes fixed upon the physician’s lifeless body.
The man who had come to deliver the report..
...had become part of it.
Inside...
Only Liu Tong and Elder Hang remained standing.
Around them, the command pavilion had become unnaturally still, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of the physician, the generals, and the senior officers who had fallen one after another.
The military physician’s body struck the polished wooden floor with a dull thud.
For several long breaths, neither Liu Tong nor Elder Hang moved.
The command pavilion, which only moments ago had been filled with conversation and laughter, had become a silent tomb. Around the shattered banquet table lay the lifeless bodies of seven Golden Vein Realm generals, senior officers, and the physician who had arrived seeking help.
No one remained standing...
Liu Tong’s crimson eyes slowly swept across the corpses surrounding him.
His brows remained tightly furrowed.
Not fear.
Not grief.
Confusion.
Something had happened.
Something completely beyond his understanding.
His gaze slowly shifted toward the entrance.
Without saying a word, he strode outside.
Elder Hang followed immediately.
The heavy curtain parted.
Warm afternoon sunlight poured across the stone steps before both men stepped beyond the command pavilion.
Liu Tong stopped.
His footsteps never took another step.
His pupils contracted.
The enormous military encampment stretching beyond the command pavilion...
Had become unnaturally still.
The broad avenues that should have echoed with marching boots and shouted commands lay completely silent beneath the afternoon sun.
Rows of Death Riders remained exactly where they had eaten.
Some still held bowls inside lifeless hands.
Others had collapsed across unfinished meals.
Officers lay beside overturned command tables.
Formation masters rested motionless beside shattered array compasses.
Military physicians remained kneeling beside the very soldiers they had tried to save.
Supply carts stood abandoned across the roads.
Spirit horses wandered aimlessly through the camp, their reins dragging across the packed earth without masters to guide them.
The afternoon breeze drifted quietly through the sprawling military encampment, stirring thousands of crimson banners that still fluttered proudly above the endless rows of white tents. Beyond the command pavilion, the broad avenues stretched toward the horizon beneath the warm sunlight, exactly as they had only moments earlier.
Yet something was terribly wrong.
Liu Tong stood motionless at the top of the stone steps.
His gaze slowly swept across the camp.
Death Riders remained seated beneath the temporary dining shelters where they had gathered for the midday meal. Some still held wooden bowls loosely in lifeless hands. Others had collapsed across rough wooden tables, unfinished food scattered beneath them. A few appeared almost asleep, their foreheads resting quietly against folded arms, until the unnatural stillness lingering around every body revealed the truth.
There was no movement.
Not a single soldier rose to greet his commander.
No patrol crossed the avenues.
No quartermaster shouted inventory reports.
No servants hurried between supply wagons.
The enormous military encampment, which should have echoed with the disciplined rhythm of eight hundred thousand cultivators, had fallen into a silence so complete that it seemed to swallow the afternoon itself.
Liu Tong’s eyes continued traveling farther across the camp.
The western cavalry grounds.
Bodies lay slumped beside riderless spirit horses that wandered aimlessly through the open fields, their reins dragging across the packed earth.
The eastern defensive lines.
Archers remained seated behind the wooden barricades, bows still resting across their knees as though they had simply paused to eat before never rising again.
The supply district.
Overturned carts blocked the roads where sacks of grain, vegetables, and shattered ceramic jars had spilled across the ground. Workers lay scattered beside them exactly where they had fallen.
His gaze climbed higher.
Watchtowers still overlooked the camp from every direction.
Their signal flags fluttered peacefully in the wind.
The sentries beneath them never moved.
Liu Tong slowly clenched his fists.
His breathing had unconsciously become slower.
Everywhere he looked...
The same scene greeted him.
The afternoon meal remained unfinished.
The army remained exactly where it had stopped.
And life...
Had simply disappeared.
For the first time in many years, uncertainty flickered across his face.
"...Impossible."
Beside him, Elder Hang instinctively followed his gaze. The old cultivator’s eyes swept across the endless sea of motionless bodies before stopping upon the command pavilion itself.
A faint ripple shimmered above the white canopy.
His expression changed immediately.
"What is this formation..."
Liu Tong looked upward.
Only now did he notice the transparent barrier arching above the pavilion like a perfectly clear dome. The Sound Isolation Formation still remained active, quietly separating the command pavilion from the world beyond.
Understanding struck him in an instant.
Every desperate scream.
Every cry for help.
Every warning that had echoed through the camp...
Had died against this invisible barrier while those inside continued their banquet, completely unaware that an entire army had been perishing only a few hundred meters away.
A violent surge of crimson spiritual energy burst from Liu Tong’s palm.
The transparent dome trembled violently before countless cracks spread across its surface like a spider’s web. Within the next heartbeat, the entire formation shattered into millions of glittering fragments that dissolved into the afternoon sky.
Liu Tong remained standing where he was.
His spiritual senses spread instinctively across the entire encampment.
He listened.
He expected chaos.
Running footsteps.
The clash of armor.
The shouted commands of officers struggling to restore order.
Nothing came.
Only the lonely wind wandered between the countless tents, brushing gently past an army that would never answer another command.
That silence...
Felt heavier than any battlefield.
Rapid footsteps suddenly echoed from the western avenue.
Several Cloud Peak Sect disciples appeared at full speed, their robes covered with dust and bloodstains. Their breathing came in ragged gasps, panic completely replacing the calm discipline cultivators normally possessed.
"Elder!"
One disciple stumbled before barely catching himself.
"They’re dead!"
"They’re all dead!"
Another pointed frantically behind him.
"The physicians collapsed!"
"The formation masters collapsed!"
"The battalion commanders..."
His voice shook uncontrollably.
"...they all died!"
A young female disciple covered her mouth with trembling hands.
"We tried helping them..."
"...they just kept falling."
Elder Hang slowly swept his gaze across every face.
No one had been injured.
No blood stained their robes.
Yet every disciple wore the same expression.
Confusion.
Fear.
Helplessness.
He drew a slow breath before forcing his voice to remain steady.
"Stay together. Do not wander through the camp alone. Until we discover what happened here, no one is to leave my sight."
The disciples nodded immediately.
The Cloud Peak Sect disciples instinctively gathered behind Elder Hang, their breathing uneven as frightened eyes darted across the encampment. Several of the younger disciples tightened their grips around their swords, while others unconsciously stepped closer to one another, as though standing together might somehow keep the unseen danger at bay.
None of them noticed that the hand concealed beneath Elder Hang’s wide sleeve had quietly tightened into a fist. His fingers had begun trembling ever so slightly, a movement so subtle that only he himself could feel it.
His eyes drifted beyond the disciples and settled once more upon the sprawling military encampment.
Not a single clue remained behind.
No wounds.
No signs of battle.
No lingering traces of poison.
Only an endless silence that pressed against the heart far more heavily than any battlefield ever could.
Several hundred meters away, inside the temporary residence assigned to the Celestial Sword Sect, an entirely different atmosphere prevailed.
Shaurya reached out and lowered the entrance flap, shutting out the distant view of the encampment behind him.
His eyes slowly swept across the tent.
Travel packs rested neatly beside every disciple.
Weapons had already been secured across their backs or fastened to their waists. Maps, supplies, and the few belongings they had brought into the camp had long since disappeared into storage rings, leaving the spacious tent almost completely empty.
No one spoke.
Every member of the Sanatan Flame Sect simply watched their Sect Master.
Shaurya allowed a faint smile to appear.
"Our task here is complete."
His calm voice broke the silence.
"It’s time to leave."
Lu Fang released a quiet laugh as he adjusted the strap securing the large pack across his shoulder.
"I was beginning to think you’d make us wait until sunset."
Lee Bie straightened instinctively, his expression becoming serious.
"Everything has been prepared, Sect Master."
Beside him, Cheng Fang rested one hand upon the hilt of the sword strapped across his back before giving a small nod.
"Everyone is ready."
Shaurya glanced around the tent one final time before turning toward the exit.
"Then let’s go."
The group stepped outside together.
Warm sunlight bathed the quiet clearing surrounding their temporary residence while a gentle breeze stirred their robes. Above them, the clear blue sky shimmered almost imperceptibly before the surrounding space began rippling like the surface of a tranquil lake.
The distortion expanded silently.
Within moments, the outline of an enormous spiritual ship emerged from the rippling air.
Its gleaming white hull reflected the afternoon sunlight like polished jade, while brilliant formation lines pulsed faintly across its surface. A majestic banner bearing the unmistakable emblem of the Celestial Sword Sect fluttered proudly from the tallest mast, dancing gracefully in the wind.
To anyone witnessing the scene, it was unquestionably the Celestial Sword Sect’s flying vessel.
Shaurya gently pushed against the ground beneath his feet.
His figure rose effortlessly into the air.
The others followed immediately.
One after another, streaks of spiritual light ascended toward the waiting ship before landing soundlessly upon its broad deck.
Within only a few breaths, the last disciple disappeared aboard.
The enormous spiritual vessel hummed softly as its formations awakened. Waves of spiritual energy spread beneath its hull before the ship slowly rose higher into the sky, leaving the silent military encampment behind.
Liu Tong’s eyes suddenly narrowed.
A fluctuation of spiritual energy rippled across the sky above the encampment.
He instinctively raised his head.
The enormous spiritual ship that had only recently remained anchored above the Celestial Sword Sect’s temporary residence was now steadily ascending through the clouds, its brilliant white hull gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. The familiar banner embroidered with the Celestial Sword Sect’s emblem fluttered proudly from the tallest mast, leaving no doubt about its identity.
"They’re leaving..."
Liu Tong’s voice was low, but the confusion within it was unmistakable.
Beside him, Elder Hang also looked toward the sky. His brows gradually knitted together as unease settled inside his heart.
"The campaign hasn’t ended yet," he murmured. "Why would they choose to leave now?"
Neither of them had time to search for an answer.
A solitary figure slowly emerged from the deck of the spiritual ship.
The elderly cultivator leaned lightly upon a weathered walking stick as though taking an evening stroll rather than departing a battlefield. His robes fluttered gently in the wind while his smiling eyes swept leisurely across the devastated military encampment before settling upon the two figures standing below.
It was Elder Xu.
The smile on his wrinkled face gradually widened until he suddenly threw back his head and burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha!"
The booming voice rolled across the silent battlefield with startling clarity.
"Elder Hang!"
He lifted his walking stick in greeting, waving it cheerfully through the air as though addressing an old friend.
"Our cooperation has been most enjoyable. Everything unfolded exactly as we discussed."
His smile grew even brighter.
"The Celestial Sword Sect and the Cloud Peak Sect have accomplished today’s operation flawlessly. Once our Sect Masters learn how perfectly everything proceeded, both of our groups will undoubtedly be rewarded."
Several Cloud Peak Sect disciples stared blankly at the ship, unable to understand what they were hearing.
Elder Xu, however, appeared completely unconcerned.
He laughed once more before raising his hand in farewell.
"The remaining matters are yours to handle. We’ll return to our sect first. Until we meet again, Elder Hang!"
Every word drifted across the silent encampment without the slightest obstruction.
The color drained from Elder Hang’s face.
His eyes widened as realization crashed into him.
"No..."
The word escaped almost as a whisper before his expression twisted in alarm.
"No!"
He stepped forward instinctively, his spiritual energy surging beneath his feet.
"Elder Xu!"
His voice thundered toward the departing vessel.
"What are you saying? Stop this at once!"
"We never planned anything together!"
His shout echoed across the empty camp, but the spiritual ship neither slowed nor turned back. It continued climbing toward the heavens with unhurried grace, as though the desperate cries rising from below had never reached it.
A deep silence settled over the battlefield once again.
Liu Tong slowly turned his head.
His gaze settled upon Elder Hang.
The disbelief that had clouded his crimson eyes only moments earlier had vanished completely.
In its place remained a chilling stillness.
The kind of stillness that appeared only when murderous intent had become so overwhelming that even anger no longer needed to reveal itself.
The air around him began to distort.
Fine cracks spread quietly beneath his feet.
Without a single word...
The terrifying pressure radiating from Liu Tong’s body began to rise.
The air around Liu Tong erupted without warning.
A deafening roar shook the battlefield as the ground beneath his feet collapsed inward, countless cracks racing across the earth in every direction before an overwhelming torrent of crimson spiritual energy burst toward the heavens. The surrounding space trembled violently beneath the pressure, while an invisible force swept across the encampment like a tidal wave, sending countless fragments of shattered stone rolling across the ground.
Behind Liu Tong, an enormous Void Black Spirit Ring slowly emerged from the sea of crimson light.
Before its terrifying pressure had fully settled, a second ring appeared.
Then a third.
The sky itself seemed to darken as three more colossal rings manifested one after another until six immense Void Black Spirit Rings revolved silently behind his back, each one radiating enough spiritual pressure to suffocate cultivators far below.
The surviving Cloud Peak Sect disciples felt as though an entire mountain had suddenly descended upon their shoulders.
Several staggered backward before collapsing onto one knee, their arms trembling uncontrollably as blood spilled from the corners of their mouths. Even the elders struggled to remain standing beneath the pressure released by a furious Spirit Lord.
Liu Tong never looked at them.
His crimson eyes remained fixed upon the departing spiritual ship.
Without uttering a single word, he bent his knees slightly before disappearing from the ground with an explosive boom.
The place where he had stood instantly collapsed into a massive crater.
His figure became nothing more than a crimson streak tearing through the sky with unimaginable speed. The violent spiritual pressure surrounding him ripped apart the clouds in his path, while murderous intent flooded the heavens as he closed the distance between himself and the fleeing vessel within a single breath.
His right fist drew backward.
Countless streams of crimson spiritual energy converged around it, compressing until the surrounding space began distorting beneath the terrifying force.
Then...
He struck.
The punch shattered the air itself.
A violent shockwave erupted outward, powerful enough to split the clouds for dozens of kilometers.
Yet the expected impact never came.
Liu Tong’s fist passed directly through the enormous spiritual ship as though it possessed no physical form whatsoever.
The smile upon his face disappeared.
The magnificent vessel rippled like the reflection of a lake disturbed by a falling stone. Its gleaming white hull gradually became translucent before dissolving into countless shimmering particles that drifted peacefully through the wind.
Only Elder Xu remained.
His figure floated calmly within the fading light, leaning upon his weathered walking stick exactly as before. There wasn’t the slightest trace of panic upon his aged face. Instead, he looked at Liu Tong with amusement, as though watching an impatient child throw a meaningless tantrum.
A faint chuckle escaped his lips.
"Commander Liu..."
He slowly shook his head.
"You couldn’t even tell the difference between reality and a projection."
The old man sighed theatrically before smiling once again.
"It seems the Black Iron Mercenary Group has chosen a rather disappointing commander."
Liu Tong’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white, but Elder Xu continued speaking as though he hadn’t noticed.
"Since you’ve already witnessed everything with your own eyes, there is little point hiding it any longer."
His smiling gaze shifted briefly toward Elder Hang below.
"Our Celestial Sword Sect and the Cloud Peak Sect thank you for today’s cooperation."
He gave Elder Hang a playful wink.
"Until we meet again."
His body quietly dissolved into countless golden motes of light that scattered across the sky before disappearing completely.
Silence returned.
Liu Tong remained suspended high above the battlefield, his outstretched fist still hanging in empty space.
For several long breaths...
He did not move.
The terrifying murderous aura surrounding him, however, became heavier with every passing moment until the very air seemed ready to collapse beneath its weight.
Far below, Elder Hang stared blankly at the empty sky.
His face had become deathly pale.
He finally understood.
From the very beginning...
Every word Elder Xu had spoken had been chosen with absolute precision.
None of it had been directed at him.
It had all been meant for Liu Tong.
Before Elder Hang could open his mouth, a crimson streak descended from the heavens.
Liu Tong crashed into the battlefield like a falling meteor.
The earth exploded beneath the impact.
A massive crater instantly spread outward as an overwhelming shockwave tore across the encampment, hurling dozens of Cloud Peak Sect disciples through the air. Dust and shattered stone billowed into the sky while crimson spiritual energy surged outward in violent waves, causing the surrounding space to tremble uncontrollably.
When the dust slowly settled...
Liu Tong stood motionless at the center of the crater.
A massive crimson battle axe appeared within his grasp.
Its blade hummed with terrifying spiritual power as scarlet runes gradually illuminated its surface.
Liu Tong slowly raised his head.
His crimson eyes locked onto Elder Hang.
"I suspected your sects had been plotting against me from the very beginning."
His voice was calm.
Calm enough to send a chill through every cultivator present.
"But I never imagined..."
His grip tightened around the handle of the axe until veins bulged across the back of his hand.
"...that you would dare poison eight hundred thousand of my soldiers."
Violent crimson blade aura gathered along the edge of the weapon, stretching farther and farther until it resembled a river of blood suspended in the sky.
Elder Hang immediately stepped forward, shielding the terrified disciples behind him.
"Commander Liu!"
His voice echoed urgently across the battlefield.
"This is a misunderstanding! My Cloud Peak Sect has absolutely nothing to do with this! Everything Elder Xu said was deliberate deception!"
Liu Tong never even looked at him.
The enormous axe slowly rose above his shoulder.
The surrounding space groaned beneath the accumulated power, while cracks spread through the air itself.
"You may explain yourself..."
His eyes blazed with boundless killing intent.
"...to the dead."
The axe descended.
A colossal crimson blade tore across the battlefield, splitting the earth apart as it surged toward Elder Hang and the Cloud Peak Sect with unstoppable force.
To Be Continued...
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