Ling Yun Vs Feng Lan

Just after Ling Yun, Ling Hua, and Ling Zhen left the ceremony, Ling Wei turned to one of the elders and said,

"I can feel it. This peace won't last long; a storm is coming."

The elder nodded, his tone grave.

"Indeed. The Feng Clan intends to humiliate us. And the most likely outcome is the complete ruin of the young master's reputation."

Ling Wei stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"I wonder what Ling Yun is going to do about it. He's always so independent, always attempted to solve his own problems."

The elder gazed out into the courtyard, speaking in a whisper.

"... But, I don't think it's only the young master who is in trouble. We must struggle to survive also."

Ling Wei's eyes fell on Feng Dong, slouching in his golden throne. His agonized voice tore through the hush.

"I sacrificed my son for the greater good of our clan. To this moment, even though I know he is likely to be slaughtered before me, I have kept quiet—to ensure the clan survives

The elder sighed and shook his head.

"We must prepare for the worst. Feng Dong has just reached the Golden Core realm, and his foundation is still unstable. If it comes to a fight… killing him isn't impossible."

Ling Wei tore his gaze away from Feng Dong and gave a slow nod.

"I abandoned my son for the sake of the family… I hope he never forgives me."

The elder gave a bitter smile.

"It wasn't an easy decision. I'm sure He understands your intentions."

Ling Wei frowned.

"Fortunately, we don't need to be worried about the other representatives here. As much as I know, they won't be so naive to choose their side this early."

The elder nodded.

"That's right. After all, this ceremony is about showcasing power and securing alliances."

Moments later, the great bell rang through the air, just as Ling Zhen and Ling Hua returned to the ceremony—without Ling Yun.

Ling Wei glanced at his daughter's troubled face and immediately sensed that something had happened, but he said nothing. Ling Hua remained silent as well.

As the Awakening Ceremony concluded and the future cultivators of the Feng Clan were introduced, Feng Lan stepped onto the stage. At that very moment, Ling Yun rejoined his family.

Ling Wei turned to him curiously.

"Ah, Yun! Where have you been?"

Ling Yun replied calmly,

"I had some matters to take care of, Father. Nothing significant happened here, I assume?"

At the same time, his gaze landed on his sister's sorrowful expression. With a reassuring tone, he added,

"Xiao Hua, why are you upset? I told you—nothing will happen to your brother."

Ling Wei let out a hearty laugh and nodded in satisfaction.

"Hahaha! That's the strength of the Ling Clan!"

As Feng Lan took the stage and sparred with several cultivators of her generation, Ling Yun made a subtle gesture, drawing Ling Zhen and Ling Hua's attention.

The time to part ways had come.

With masterful precision, Ling Yun "accidentally" spilled his cup of tea onto his sister's clothes. The sudden mishap immediately drew attention. Some chuckled, calling him clumsy. Even Ling Wei scolded him for his carelessness. But everything was going according to plan.

Ling Yun gently patted his sister's head and pulled her into an embrace. Without her noticing, he slipped a ring into her pocket before sending her on her way.

Inside the ring, he had placed two pills with twenty percent purity, several spirit stones, a few weapons, food, and a change of clothes.

As his sister walked away, Ling Yun watched her with a warm smile. Perhaps this would be the last time he ever saw her. Even so, that gentle, affectionate expression soon gave way to a cold, emotionless mask.

He turned back to his father, waiting for the Feng Clan to make their move.

After a spectacular match, Feng Lan turned to the patriarch of the Feng Clan and made her request: a friendly duel with Ling Yun.

Ling Yun wasn't surprised in the slightest. When he cast an indifferent glance at Ling Wei and the elder beside him, he could tell they had been expecting this as well.

He paused for a moment, took a slow sip of his tea, and waited for Feng Dong's response.

In Feng Dong's eyes, the hunger for domination was unmistakable.

Ling Yun smirked wickedly and settled in for the spectacle. He didn't have to wait long.

With Feng Dong's approval, Ling Yun stepped onto the arena and stood opposite Feng Lan.

This was a battle of phoenixes.

Ling Yun's long hair, tied up high, swayed in the wind. His white robes reflected the cold light of the setting sun, his expression calmer than the great sea.

Opposite him, Feng Lan stood tall, clad in fiery red, thirsting for victory over this man.

Ling Yun smiled faintly and gestured for her to make the first move. He had yet to draw a weapon.

Feng Lan signaled one of the guards. A moment later, a sword soared through the air and plunged into the ground before Ling Yun.

Ling Yun cast a brief glance at the blade before shifting his gaze back to Feng Lan, who was already charging toward him like a raging inferno.

Clang! Clang!

The first clash of swords rang out as the initial strikes were exchanged.

Feng Lan attacked relentlessly, her movements swift and acrobatic, striking from different angles with precision. Yet Ling Yun deflected every blow with ease.

He moved with the confidence of a seasoned warrior, effortlessly countering every strike.

He was stalling—ensuring Ling Hua and Ling Zhen had enough time to escape. Occasionally, he let himself appear vulnerable, making the duel seem more even. His control over the fight was subtle but undeniable. His movements were so flawless, so measured, that no one suspected a thing.

Feng Dong was thoroughly enjoying the battle. Ling Wei, on the other hand, watched his son with wide-eyed astonishment.

Several times, Ling Yun seemed to teeter on the edge of defeat. But something didn't add up…

Why was he so calm?

Feng Lan fought with everything she had, while Ling Yun remained composed, deflecting each attack with minimal effort.

Like a teacher testing a student's skill, never truly pressured by the fight.

Or an actor in a one-man play—writer, director, and performer all at once. As if everything had been planned from the very beginning.

Feng Lan's techniques occasionally forced him back, but Ling Yun was never truly in danger. Not even close.

Feng Lan was drenched in sweat, panting heavily. Half an hour of relentless combat had drained her. Her spiritual energy had been depleting nonstop, leaving her exhausted and frustrated.

He stood firm, composed, showing no sign of exhaustion. His gaze was one of superiority, cold and mocking.

And Feng Lan couldn't accept that.

No, this was impossible.

Ling Yun had lost his cultivation. He was a captive, a pawn meant to be Feng Lan's first grand achievement in this spectacle.

So why did everything feel reversed?

A breeze swept through the arena, kicking up dust from the ground.

Feng Lan's rage ignited once more. Her crimson aura flared, burning bright. Everything had led to this final moment.

Everything condensed into a single second.

With every ounce of speed she could muster, Feng Lan lunged forward. Her blade rose, aimed directly at Ling Yun's throat.

Time seemed to freeze.

No movement.

Ling Yun's neck lay exposed, vulnerable.

But then, a voice whispered in Feng Lan's ear:

"That's enough..."

And Ling Yun's blade sliced through her abdomen.

At that very moment, the city's bell rang, and from the eastern horizon, a dark cloud emerged.

Beyond the surrounding mountains, a fire blazed to life—one that had remained dormant for years.

A heartbeat of silence.

And then, terror.

Feng Lan collapsed, her stomach torn open.

But for several seconds, no one paid her any attention.

Because that black cloud was more important than her death.

Then, suddenly, reality crashed back into motion.

Feng Dong, who had been fixated on his wounded granddaughter, let out a roar of fury that shook the entire city.

Ling Yun tightened his grip around his sword. He had delivered a strike that Feng Dong never saw coming.

His granddaughter was on the brink of death, and in his blind rage, Feng Dong recklessly unleashed his unstable cultivation.

Feng Dong's newly formed Golden Core energy surged forward like a devastating storm, aimed straight at Ling Yun.

But then—unexpectedly—Ling Yun pulled Feng Lan into an embrace.

And just as that lethal force closed in, he unleashed his full power and leaped backward.

BOOOOM!!!!

Feng Dong, with his own hands, annihilated his granddaughter.

Feng Lan burned. Burned so completely that not even a trace of bone remained. Even her blood evaporated into nothingness.

And Feng Dong… succumbed to madness.

Meanwhile, the black cloud loomed ever closer to the city.

Amid the chaos, Ling Yun turned his gaze toward the figures emerging from the east.

Demons.

Marching toward them.