Chapter -6.Running away to all cozy.

The master sat in the center of the hall, his cold eyes fixed on Divya, each glance cutting deeper than any blade. His voice, sharp and unyielding, echoed through the room. "Xiao Pang, who gave you the right to snatch your sister's prey?"

Divya froze. The crushing pressure in the room bore down on her, pinning her to the floor. She trembled, unable to lift herself under the suffocating weight. She needed to act fast. If she couldn't find a way to make him angry enough to cast her out, she'd be stuck here. And staying here wasn't an option—not with the Spring Festival looming.

Before she could formulate a plan, another voice cut through. Xiao jian , a man standing nearby, stepped forward with a righteous sneer. "Disciple Pang, even with the Spring Festival so close, you still dare to cause such chaos? What is the meaning of this?"

The mention of the Spring Festival sent a chill down Divya's spine. Her eyes darted to the floor as she suppressed a shudder. This was why she needed to get out of this sect, out of this story.

The Spring Festival wasn't just a grand celebration. It was the turning point in the novel, the moment where everything spiraled into chaos. Divya knew the plot by heart—she had read it all before dropping it in frustration. The Heavenly Sect would host this grand event, drawing attention from every corner of the martial world. And in the middle of it all, the male lead would make his entrance.

He wasn't just a prodigy; he was the youngest sword master in history, a man whose life had been forged in pain and revenge. His hatred for the Heavenly Sect was legendary, and this festival was the stage for his reckoning. He would strike, merciless and devastating, reducing the sect's grandeur to ashes.

The reason Divya absolutely loathed this novel boiled down to one thing: the irrational and utterly ridiculous protagonist's halo around the heroine. It wasn't just overpowered—it was downright unfair. Even when the male lead came to take revenge on her father—yes, the same father shared by Pang Pang and the heroine—the story somehow twisted itself to favor the heroine.

It all started with Pang Pang's downfall. After the leopard attack, Pang Pang was severely injured. Her body was broken, her spiritual core collapsed, and she barely clung to life. When she finally dragged herself to this sect, hoping for a chance to survive, she was met with scorn and ridicule. Everyone mocked her, taunted her, and made it clear she was nothing but a burden.

But then came the infamous Spring Festival—the moment Divya hated the most. When the male lead, burning with vengeance, finally arrived, everything went to hell. His grudge wasn't unfounded. His mother had desperately needed life-saving medicine, but just as he found it, the heroine's father had stolen it to give to his precious daughter. That stolen medicine became the reason the heroine rose to fame, achieving unprecedented levels of cultivation at a young age. Meanwhile, the male lead's mother died, leaving him to grow up with nothing but bitterness and rage.

So, when he finally came to settle the score, what did he do? Instead of killing the heroine and her father—the actual culprits—he turned his blade on Pang Pang. Why? Because, in his twisted logic, everything was her fault. If Pang Pang hadn't been born, the heroine wouldn't have been so "weak," and none of this would've happened.

And so, Pang Pang was slaughtered, a meaningless sacrifice to the story's nonsensical narrative. Half the sect was obliterated in the process, but did anyone care? Of course not. The male lead had conveniently "fallen in love" with the heroine by then, and all was forgiven.

Divya hated it. The sheer injustice of it made her blood boil. The protagonist's halo wasn't just unreasonable; it was maddening. Pang Pang's death was senseless, her existence reduced to a plot device to further the so-called romance. And yet, everyone accepted it. No one challenged it.

Divya sneered, her lips curling into a defiant smirk as she spat out, "What's this? Did all your cultivation finally rot your brains? Or is basic logic not included in your heavenly manuals?"

The hall fell into stunned silence. Every jaw dropped as though gravity had suddenly intensified. No one—not a single soul—had ever dared to speak to the elders like that. Not in this lifetime.

With every ounce of strength left in her, Divya pushed herself upright, her hands trembling slightly as she rose. Her voice, sharp and unyielding, cut through the thick tension. "So, let me get this straight. I saved myself, and that's... wrong? Seriously? Are you people crazy?"

The old man sitting in the center narrowed his icy eyes, his anger palpable as he lifted a single hand, slow and deliberate.

Before Divya could finish her tirade, the world blurred. BAM! Her body slammed into a nearby pillar, the impact reverberating through the hall. A sharp cough escaped her lips as blood splattered onto the pristine floor. But even as pain shot through her, she raised her head, her gaze locking onto the old man's with a mocking defiance.

"Oh, what's the matter now? Want to kill me? Go ahead!" she snarled, the smirk never leaving her face.

The old man's glare deepened, his fingers curling slightly. Another wave of force hit her like a freight train. This time, her body smashed through the first pillar, sending wood splinters flying, only to collide with another one behind it. The second pillar, thankfully made of wood, bent slightly under the impact but didn't shatter completely.

Divya groaned, her body aching all over. If it wasn't for the freakishly strong Pang Pang physique she now inhabited, she might've been toast. Still, she didn't care. Anger was her best weapon, and she knew how to wield it well. After all, years of dealing with angry bosses in the office had taught her one universal truth: the easiest way to get rid of a problem was to make someone else mad enough to handle it for you.

So, she tilted her head with a painful grin, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's next, huh? Gonna throw me through the roof this time? Because honestly, I could use the fresh air."