I Become Sect master In Another World

A wide, unsettling grin split Liu Tong’s face, twisting his features into a grotesque mask of amusement.

Without a single word of warning, he heaved the heavy battle axe back and carved three rapid, intersecting arcs through the air. Broad crescents of crimson spiritual force erupted from the blade, screaming across the short gap before Elder Hang could even lift a finger.

The red light swept over the surviving Cloud Peak disciples.

Steel tore through meat and bone with a wet, sickening spray. Crimson arc after crimson arc bisected bodies, severed limbs, and tore through torsos, painting the shattered earth in red. Dissevered remains collapsed into the dirt in a gruesome heap of blood and shredded cloth.

Elder Hang’s eyes widened, the pupils contracting to pinpricks as his entire frame froze in absolute horror. Warm blood splattered across his wrinkled cheeks, but his mind flatly refused to process the slaughter before him.

"M... My disciples..." The words scraped out of his throat, broken and barely audible. "My... precious disciples..."

Liu Tong swung the massive battle axe upward with a fluid, practiced motion, securing the haft across the heavy iron brackets anchored to his back. The wide, mocking grin never left his face as he looked down at the trembling old man.

"Trash," Liu Tong spat softly, his voice dripping with utter contempt. "All of you. If I wished it, I could erase you and your entire peak before the sun sets. But where is the fun in that? You spent so much time crafting this magnificent scheme. All those delicate preparations... it would be a shame to end it so quickly. Go back."

A violent burst of crimson aura detonated outward from Liu Tong’s frame. The sheer weight of the pressure fractured the stone beneath his greaves, sending spiderweb cracks rippling across the ruined courtyard.

The atmospheric shockwave slammed into Elder Hang, sending him staggering backward through the swirling dust.

Driven by primal instinct and absolute terror, the old man forced every remaining drop of his spiritual energy into his feet and launched himself wildly into the sky.

He cut through the black smoke rising over the valley, streaking directly toward the cloud line where the Cloud Peak Sect’s spiritual ship hovered in hiding. Piercing the lower hull’s protective barrier, Hang hit the wooden deck, his boots skidding across the blood-slicked timber.

He didn’t stop to catch his breath. Hobbling frantically into the ship’s central bridge, he reached into his spatial pouch with trembling, blood-soaked fingers and pulled out a deep blue, shimmering sapphire orb. He slammed the orb squarely into the carved stone altar at the center of the bridge.

The altar flared with intense azure light. Ancient runes along the vessel’s exterior hull ignited one by one, and the massive wooden warship groaned as its hidden propulsion arrays engaged. The vessel lifted rapidly into the upper atmosphere before bursting forward, tearing through the cloud cover and leaving the burning valley far behind.

Down on the ruined command grounds, Liu Tong stood motionless, watching the fading blue trail of the spiritual ship disappear into the high atmosphere.

Slowly, the grin melted from his face. His expression fell into a dark, hollow abyss. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his iron gauntlets groaned under the pressure, the thick veins along his forearms bulging against his skin. His crimson aura vibrated uncontrollably, humming with chaotic, unstable force.

His gaze swept over the ash-covered camp—over the crushed supply wagons, the shredded banners, and the silent, lifeless bodies of his men scattered across the scorched dirt.

"Rest, my soldiers," Liu Tong whispered, his voice dangerously low, vibrating from the deepest depths of his chest. "Your commander will not let a single soul who did this go unpunished. Especially that bastard... Elder Xu."

He threw his head back and roared at the sky.

BOOM!

A catastrophic explosion of crimson spiritual energy tore outward from his body. A massive wave of pure, unfiltered destruction swallowed the entire encampment, reducing the remaining wreckage, scorched tents, and stone foundations to fine white dust.

Miles away, aboard the speeding Cloud Peak vessel, Elder Hang felt the distant atmospheric tremor vibrate through the hull. He turned his head back toward the horizon, his face pale with lingering dread, clutching the altar to keep his balance.

Meanwhile, leagues away in a completely different direction, another vessel navigated the sky.

A grand spiritual ship bearing the fluttering crimson-and-gold banners of the Celestial Sword Sect drifted smoothly through the sea of clouds. It moved at an unhurried, majestic pace, completely devoid of panic.

Standing near the bow, Shaurya still wore the wrinkled, stooped appearance of Elder Xu. Suddenly, his eyes widened slightly. He turned his head back toward the distant coordinates of the Black Iron Mercenary camp, a subtle, knowing smile touching his lips.

He finally unleashed it, Shaurya thought, his mind calculating the fallout. Looks like the commander is going to be a massive headache for both the Cloud Peak and Celestial Sword sects.

Soft, measured footsteps approached from behind. Elder Hua stepped up beside him, leaning lightly against the carved wooden railing as she glanced around at the quiet deck.

"Master..." she murmured softly.

Shaurya turned his head, his voice still disguised in the gravelly, raspy tone of the old elder. "Yes?"

Elder Hua sighed, adjusting her wide sleeves against the high-altitude wind. "Can we return to our real forms now? Aren’t you tired of walking around in that old man’s skin?"

Shaurya blinked, then let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a bony hand. "Ah, right! I almost forgot."

He raised his hand, a look of genuine excitement brightening his disguised eyes. "You’re completely right. There’s no need to wear this cheap getup anymore."

Shaurya snapped his fingers.

Snap!

A brilliant column of golden light erupted from the vessel’s core, enveloping the entire ship in a blinding domain. In mid-air, the vessel began to shift, bend, and expand. The illusion dissolved completely, revealing its true, staggering scale—a massive, floating war fortress more than three times the size of the illusory Celestial Sword Sect boat, armed with grand arrays and polished gold trim.

At the bow, the aged illusion covering Shaurya fractured into shimmering golden particles. His stooped spine straightened with a sharp crackling sound, his height restored as the withered, liver-spotted skin melted away.

The golden dust dissolved into the wind, revealing his true form clad in immaculate, tailor-made black-and-gold robes. The heavy outer coat fluttered majestically against the gale as he casually ran a hand through his dark hair, settling the loose strands.

Beside him, the surrounding sect members groaned with visible relief as their own disguised appearances dissolved into golden light, restoring their original robes and gear.

"Finally!" Lee Bie stretched his arms high overhead, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction that echoed across the deck. "We’re back to normal. I was so sick of wearing that rigid, stuffy outfit."

Cheng Fang smoothed down his lapels, dramatically wiping a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye. "Ah... nothing in this world compares to our own sect robes."

Shaurya extended his arms, taking a deep, satisfying breath of the crisp, high-altitude air into his lungs.

A crisp, melodic chime echoed directly in his mind as a brilliant, semi-transparent golden interface materialized in his line of sight, bathing his features in a warm glow.

[Ding... What’s up, Host?]

Shaurya’s eyes snapped open in pleasant surprise. He stared at the glowing golden text floating in mid-air, a bright, eager grin spreading across his face.

The chatter of Lee Bie and Cheng Fang faded into absolute silence as the central interface dissolved, rearranging its golden glyphs into a jagged, blood-red quest border that expanded across Shaurya’s field of vision.

[Mission: The March of the Death Riders]

[Objective: Defeat Liu Tong’s Army and

prevent the destruction of Azure Dragon Capital City.]

[Requirement: Total damage must remain below 1%.]

[Reward: Kalagni-Surya Astra.]

Shaurya’s breath caught in his chest. His eyes locked onto the final line, scanning it once, then twice, completely ignoring the chatter of the wind against the ship’s hull.

Kalagni-Surya Astra...

The window expanded downward, the red border igniting into golden solar fire as ancient text unfolded across the screen:

[Kalagni-Surya Astra]

[Type: Ancient Solar Divine Astra]

[Origin: Forged from the First Flame born at the end of a dying age.]

[Description: When unleashed, it manifests the Fire of Time itself, capable of burning matter, spirit, karma, and destiny.]

The reflection of the golden glyphs sparkled warmly in Shaurya’s eyes. The calm composure on his face vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a grin so bright and unrestrained that it nearly rivaled the sun blazing over the horizon.

He pumped a fist into the air with a triumphant chuckle, the force of his movement shattering the glowing interface into a shower of harmless golden sparks.

A genuine, lighthearted grin spread across his face as he looked out over the sea of clouds. Everything had unfolded down to the last detail—the chaos, the framed culprits, and now a Divine Astra waiting right at his fingertips.

He could hardly contain the surge of pure satisfaction running through his chest.

Turning away from the railing, he sauntered back toward the center of the deck with a spring in his step.

Lee Bie and Cheng Fang were already cheerily comparing their weapons, while Elder Hua stood near the primary steering array, lightly tracing the control runes.

"Elder Hua!" Shaurya called out, his voice rich with cheerful excitement as his black-and-gold coat billowed in the wind. "Set our course straight for home. It’s time to head back to the Sanatan Flame Sect!"

Elder Hua smiled, her fingers gliding across the array interface as the navigation runes flared to life.

The grand war fortress let out a deep, resonant hum. Its golden engines roared, carving a clean, blazing arc through the sky as the vessel accelerated smoothly, leaving the turbulent horizon far behind as it soared back toward their sect grounds.

To Be Continued....

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