Wěi Tú.

Two days until Qinghe.

Dawn brought the preparations for departure. However, the calm of the camp was abruptly broken.

—Let me go, damn it!

Han Zhuang struggled, held by his own companions. His muscles tensed with fury, but the grip on him was firm. In front of him, Wei Lan's disciples remained impassive, watching him with the quiet superiority of those who believe they are in control.

—The Wěi Tú like you are nothing more than classless savages—spat, his eyes burning with contempt.

The other members of the group. One of them, with a thin face and sharp eyes, took a step forward.

—You, wretch...

A refined insult, born from generations of arrogance.

"Wěi Tú"

That was what sect and clan members called guild cultivators, implying that they were fakes, imitators, mere shadows of what it meant to be a true cultivator.

The truth was simple: guilds were an anomaly.

Sects and clans had existed since time immemorial, refining their techniques, accumulating knowledge and resources generation after generation. They were the true masters of the cultivation path, or at least they saw themselves that way.

Guilds, on the other hand, were young. Barely five hundred years since their emergence, and some had already rivaled sects that had dominated the world for millennia. An intolerable fact for the ancient powers.

That is why, although alliances existed, the contempt never disappeared.

Sects saw guilds as intruders.

Guilds saw sects as arrogant relics.

And as always, a single spark was enough to ignite the fire.

The raised voices and accumulated tension attracted the attention of the leaders of both sides.

—What is all this commotion? —asked Xia Ruyen, yawning as she rubbed her eyes, not even bothering to open them fully.

—Leader, those bastards have been causing trouble.

—And what do you want me to do? I'm not their mother —she replied indifferently— If they bother you, hit them and make them shut up.

Xia Ruyen's group fell silent for a moment before one of them chuckled.

—As expected of our leader... —he turned to his companions and smiled— You heard her, we have permission to attack.

On the other side, Wei Lan sighed, reprimanding his disciples with a calm but firm voice. Though he shared their contempt for guild cultivators, he had to maintain the image of a righteous man.

Before the conflict could erupt, his voice resonated above the noise.

—Wait. I have an idea to resolve this misunderstanding...

Xia Ruyen narrowed her eyes, observing him with a glint of interest.

—Mmm... Senior Wei, what do you suggest?

Wei Lan smiled, his expression calm but with a calculating glint in his eyes.

—As cultivators, we walk a path where conflict is inevitable. Each challenge brings us a step closer to immortality... —he paused, savoring the moment— And since disputes are inevitable... why not resolve this with a duel?

Xia Ruyen tilted her head, a light smile on her lips.

—Straight to the point, senior.

Wei Lan chuckled.

—Heh, heh... So impatient. Anyway, a duel. One-on-one. No forbidden techniques or restricted styles. And the loser... will have to fulfill a request from the winner. Of course, nothing that endangers life or involves losing something too valuable.

Xia Ruyen's group reacted immediately.

—Sounds fair.

But Xia Ruyen did not respond immediately. Her gaze still evaluated Wei Lan with some suspicion.

—Senior Wei, even though you are from the seventh realm, you won't be upset if your disciples lose... right?

Wei Lan let out a light laugh.

—I'm not a hypocrite, Miss Xia. I won't intervene or use my cultivation level to retaliate. You have my word.

Of course, a promise from a cultivator meant little unless backed by power.

But for now, that was enough.

—Sir Cheng Liang, you wouldn't mind if we delay a little, right?

Cheng Liang understood the situation but didn't care much. After all, they were already close to the city and, with Wei Lan's group present, their safety was practically guaranteed. A slight delay wouldn't change anything.

—Go ahead, go ahead. —He made a carefree gesture with his hand, leaning back comfortably—. I was getting bored anyway. Watching a fight is always entertaining when you're not the one getting hit. Hehehe. My lady has no objections either, so proceed.

As he spoke, his eyes gleamed with malicious amusement.

"Hehehe... Should I bet on the team I hired or on the White Owl Sect? Bah, who cares... all I want is to see someone get what they deserve. If at least one of those idiots learns a lesson, it will be a good show."

His lips curved into a barely concealed smile.

"And if it's that brat Bai Xuebing... even better."

—Alright, alright, time is pressing. Let's make it five fights. Who goes first?

Without hesitation, Han Zhuang stepped forward. His expression was cold, but the tension in his body betrayed his contained fury.

—I will. —His gaze locked onto one of Wei Lan's disciples, pointing at him with a firm gesture— And I'll fight you.

The disciple blinked, surprised to be chosen, but his expression quickly twisted into a mocking smile.

—Oh, so you have guts? Let's see if your sword is as sharp as your "Wěi Tú" pride.

But for Han Zhuang, this fight was not just any duel.

Moments before the commotion, that disciple had spent the previous night speaking freely, belittling the men of the Jìng Fēng Gé guild, calling them honorless mercenaries, lapdogs who only served to die for money. Among those who heard his words was Han Zhuang.

And now, he had the perfect opportunity to answer him.

With his sword in hand and his gaze burning with determination, he stepped forward.

—Let's see if you can back up your words with actions.

The fight was about to begin.

With the rules set and the battlefield ready, the fight commenced...

The wind blew fiercely, lifting a cloud of dust between the two combatants.

Han Zhuang unsheathed his long sword, its blade reflecting the sunlight. On the other side, Wei Lan's disciple, a young man with a sharp face and an arrogant gaze, spun his spear in a fluid motion.

The atmosphere grew tense. Both were of the same realm, the same stage. The difference would not lie in brute strength but in their mastery of stars and fragments.

From the formation, some observed with interest.

—A fight between cultivators of the same level... —muttered a mercenary— It won't be a matter of power but of who uses their abilities better.

—Han Zhuang isn't someone who relies only on his strength. He won't take the offensive immediately.

—Hmph, but his opponent is a disciple of the White Owl Sect. Don't underestimate his experience...

Wei Lan, arms crossed, watched silently without intervening.

Xia Ruyen narrowed her eyes.

"Let's see how well they handle their fragments..."

Bai Xuebing, who had just woken up, headed straight toward the commotion, seeing how a fight was about to begin.

"What the hell is wrong with them? We're not even ready to leave, and they're already fighting," he thought, exhausted by it all, watching the scene unfold with no alternative.

The air grew heavier with tension as both combatants took their positions.

Han Zhuang, with his long sword in hand, maintained a relaxed stance, but his sharp gaze indicated that he was ready for any move. His star, Tranquil Lake, granted him exceptional water control, perfectly suited for the River Flow style.

On the other side, Wei Lan's disciple spun his spear with confidence. His star, Eternal Mountain, gave him stable power and overwhelming defense, making him a formidable opponent.

A clash of water and earth. Fluidity versus resistance.

Wei Lan watched silently from a distance.

—Let's see if flexibility can overcome firmness —he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

Xia Ruyen crossed her arms.

—Han Zhuang will have to be fast. If he lets the battle drag on, he'll lose, especially since he can't use his Lightning Claw Fragment.

The reason he couldn't use this fragment was his lack of natural lightning energy, having spent it earlier when they fell into the illusion formation. Now, he lacked the energy to activate this fragment.

—You're right —Bai Xuebing observed his opponent's spear— His defense is his biggest advantage, but if they break through it before he imposes his rhythm, it'll be useless.

Wei Lan made a slight motion with his head.

—Begin.

The First Bout.

The disciple of the White Owl Sect advanced swiftly, his spear piercing through the air at an impressive speed.

Han Zhuang dodged with a fluid sidestep, letting the tip of the spear pass mere centimeters from his side.

—First technique of the River Flow: Current Step.

Like water sliding between rocks, he avoided the strike with minimal wasted energy.

But his opponent was ready for him.

—Stone Fang Fragment.

He struck the ground with the base of his spear, causing a sharp stalagmite to rise beneath Han Zhuang's feet.

Without losing his composure, Han Zhuang adjusted his stance.

—Second technique of the River Flow: Floating Leaf.

A subtle twist. His foot slid smoothly over the rock, maintaining balance like a leaf floating on water.

Wei Lan raised an eyebrow.

—Good control.

But the disciple remained unfazed.

—Let's see if you can keep moving after this.

His spear gleamed with an earthy brown hue.

—Shattering Spear Technique.

With a fierce spin, he launched a downward strike with overwhelming force.

Han Zhuang didn't try to block it directly. Instead, he raised his sword precisely.

—Third technique of the River Flow: Wave Return.

Using the force of the attack against it, he redirected the spear in an elegant arc, momentarily unbalancing his enemy.

"Now!"

His sword moved swiftly, flashing in a blue hue.

—Cutting Wave Fragment.

A burst of aquatic energy shot toward the disciple.

He reacted instantly.

—Earth Bastion Fragment.

A stone wall emerged from nowhere, blocking the water blast.

The audience held their breath.

Shift in Rhythm.

Han Zhuang did not relent.

—Fourth technique of the River Flow: Resounding Wave.

He stomped the ground precisely, channeling his energy into a descending slash.

Boom!

The vibration spread through the earth, weakening the stone wall at its base.

Wei Lan's disciple took a step back, frowning.

—So you can use water to affect the earth...

Before he could reinforce his defense, Han Zhuang was already upon him.

—River Flow: Rapid Wave.

A lateral slash aimed straight at his side.

—Tsk!

He struck the ground again.

—Earth Trap Fragment.

The ground beneath Han Zhuang collapsed, swallowing him into a deep pit.

Silence.

Wei Lan's disciple smirked arrogantly.

—Too overconfident.

But then…

Boom!

A column of water exploded from the hole, scattering debris in all directions.

From within, Han Zhuang emerged with fierce momentum, his sword glowing intensely.

—Ascending River Fragment.

A technique that allowed him to use water to propel himself at high speed.

Before the disciple could react, Han Zhuang was already in front of him.

—Too late!

His sword descended.

The disciple attempted to raise his spear in defense, but Han Zhuang twisted his wrist at the last moment, changing the strike's direction.

—Damn it!

His spear was knocked aside, and with nothing left to shield him, he felt the impact on his chest.

Boom!

His body was sent flying several meters before crashing to the ground with a dull thud.

The dust slowly settled.

Han Zhuang remained standing, his sword pointing at his opponent's neck, who lay on the ground, gasping for breath.

Wei Lan narrowed his eyes, showing no emotion.

—...The fight is over.

Xia Ruyen smiled in satisfaction.

—Yes, it is.

Wei Lan's disciple clenched his teeth. For a moment, it seemed he would get up and continue, but in the end, he sighed and let go of his spear.

—I surrender.

The result was decided.

Han Zhuang exhaled deeply and sheathed his sword.

—If you talk so much, back it up with skill.

He turned around and returned to his group.

One of the mercenaries grinned with amusement.

—Well, well. Good warm-up. Who's next?

The excitement in the air intensified.

The first fight had ended, but the clash between the White Owl Sect and the Jìng Fēng Gé guild was just beginning.