The Breaking Point

The moment Wei Jian turned to the gathered disciples, daring them to stand with him, the tension in the air thickened to the point of suffocation. It was as if time itself had slowed, stretching the silence between his challenge and the first response.

Yang Yu's gaze remained locked onto him, his expression cold, his mind racing. He had anticipated this moment—had known, from the moment Wei Jian left the arena in anger, that something like this would happen. But even with all his preparation, seeing it unfold before him still made his blood boil.

Then, the first disciple stepped forward.

Then another.

And another.

Yang Yu counted them as they came. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.

Each one who moved to Wei Jian's side made a silent declaration: they no longer considered themselves part of Void Horizon. They no longer followed Yang Yu's leadership.

The gathered crowd watched in stunned silence. Some disciples looked between the two factions, hesitant, uncertain of where they belonged. Others, particularly those who had joined the sect under Yang Yu's old rule, clenched their fists, struggling to accept what was happening.

A sect divided was a sect on the verge of destruction.

Xiao Mei exhaled beside Yang Yu. "It's worse than we thought," she murmured. "If we don't handle this carefully, it could spiral out of control."

Yang Yu's voice was a quiet storm. "It already has."

Wei Jian smirked, clearly enjoying the power he now held over the moment. "So, Master," he said, voice dripping with mockery. "What happens now? Do you strike us down where we stand? Will Void Horizon be ruled by slaughter, just as it was before?"

Yang Yu's fingers twitched toward the hilt of his sword. "You misunderstand me, Wei Jian. I did not call you here to beg for your loyalty. I called you here to make your choice clear."

Wei Jian raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Yang Yu stepped forward. "You have made it. You no longer belong to Void Horizon."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some disciples flinched, others widened their eyes in shock. Expulsion was rare—almost unheard of. To be cast out of the sect was worse than death to some. It was a severing of all ties, a declaration that one was no longer worthy of the name Void Horizon.

Wei Jian's smirk did not fade. "And what if we refuse to leave?"

Yang Yu's eyes burned with cold fire. "Then you die."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then, a slow chuckle from Wei Jian. "I wondered if you still had it in you, Master."

Then, in a blur of motion, he moved.

The Clash Begins

Wei Jian struck first.

In a fraction of a second, he closed the distance between himself and Yang Yu, his palm glowing with condensed spiritual energy. The sheer force of his strike cracked the stone beneath them, sending shockwaves through the courtyard.

But Yang Yu was faster.

He sidestepped, his foot barely grazing the ground as he avoided the attack. His sword was unsheathed in an instant, its cold edge reflecting the morning light.

Wei Jian twisted mid-strike, pivoting on his heel to launch a follow-up attack—his knee rising toward Yang Yu's ribs. But before the blow could land, Yang Yu countered, his blade flashing through the air, forcing Wei Jian to pull back.

The gathered disciples scrambled away from the battle, their murmurs turning into outright panic.

"They're fighting!"

"Master Yang Yu is serious!"

"Wei Jian's strong, but can he actually match the Master?"

Xiao Mei and Ling Feng exchanged glances, but neither interfered. This battle had to happen.

Wei Jian smirked as he landed a few feet away. "So it's like that, then?"

Yang Yu straightened, his sword steady in his grip. "You chose this."

With a roar, Wei Jian attacked again.

This time, it was a flurry of strikes—palm techniques, kicks, bursts of spiritual energy all aimed at breaking Yang Yu's stance. But it was like trying to strike a mountain. Yang Yu deflected each blow with precision, his movements so fluid it seemed effortless.

But he wasn't attacking.

Not yet.

Wei Jian noticed it too. "Are you holding back?" he sneered. "Do you think I'm not worthy of your full strength?"

Yang Yu's voice was ice. "I am giving you a chance to surrender."

Wei Jian's smirk vanished.

Then, his aura flared.

The ground beneath him cracked as raw spiritual power erupted from his body, forming a golden glow that wrapped around his limbs. The sheer pressure sent weaker disciples staggering backward.

"Then let's see if you can afford to hold back!"

He launched forward, this time moving faster than before. His fists became blurs of motion, each strike carrying enough force to shatter bones.

Yang Yu finally retaliated.

His sword met Wei Jian's attacks head-on, each clash sending sparks through the air. The sound of metal and energy colliding rang through the courtyard like thunder.

Then, in an instant, Yang Yu shifted his stance—and struck.

One precise cut.

Wei Jian barely had time to react. His body twisted at the last second, but not fast enough. The edge of Yang Yu's blade carved a thin line across his shoulder, sending a spray of blood into the air.

He stumbled back, eyes wide.

"You—"

Yang Yu was already moving again.

This time, there was no hesitation. His movements were faster, sharper—each strike calculated, each step closing the distance between them. Wei Jian was powerful, but he was reckless. He relied on brute force, on overwhelming his opponent.

But Yang Yu had fought wars.

Within seconds, he had dismantled Wei Jian's offense. A slash to the wrist sent his opponent's next attack off course. A quick step forward brought Yang Yu close enough to strike the side of Wei Jian's knee, forcing him to drop.

And then, in a single fluid motion, Yang Yu raised his sword—and stopped just before it could take Wei Jian's head.

Silence.

Wei Jian's breath came in ragged gasps.

Yang Yu's blade hovered inches from his throat.

"Yield," Yang Yu commanded.

Wei Jian's fingers clenched into fists. "Never."

Yang Yu's expression did not change. "Then leave. You and those who follow you. Go now, and never return."

Wei Jian was trembling with rage. But he was not a fool. He had felt the difference in their power, had seen just how easily Yang Yu had defeated him.

He spat onto the ground.

Then, slowly, he stood.

He turned to those who had sided with him. "We leave. Now."

The disciples hesitated. Some looked at Yang Yu, then at Wei Jian.

Then, one by one, they turned and followed him.

Yang Yu did not watch them go. He turned to the remaining disciples, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

"This is Void Horizon. Those who remain will follow its rules, will abide by the strength that governs it. Let today be a lesson: true power is not in rebellion. It is in discipline. It is in unity."

No one dared to argue.

As Wei Jian's faction disappeared over the horizon, Xiao Mei exhaled. "Do you think we've seen the last of him?"

Yang Yu's grip tightened on his sword.

"No."

The storm was not over.

It had only just begun.