Chapter 18: A Guide to Causing Mass Hysteria (and Getting a Promotion)

Elder Liu's shriek, sharp and shattered by sheer disbelief, didn't just break the silence on Condor Peak; it annihilated it, pulverized it, and scattered its ashes to the four winds.

"N-no... it's not just the core... Your power! Your cultivation level!" he sputtered, stumbling backward as if he had seen King Yama himself. His face, once a mask of senile arrogance, was now a canvas of abject terror. With a final spasm of his vocal cords, the elder howled the truth his spiritual sense could barely process, a truth that defied every known law of cultivation.

"GOLDEN CORE REALM! AND SHE'S AT THE MIDDLE STAGE!"

If his previous cry had been a thunderclap, this was the cataclysm that followed.

The universe seemed to stop. The icy wind lashing the peak froze in mid-air. An inner disciple, known for his stoic demeanor, dropped a spirit-grade sword he had been holding with reverence, and the clang of steel against stone was the only sound in a world that had lost its breath. Another, weaker of heart, simply fainted, collapsing to the ground like a rag doll.

The shockwave spread like a conceptual ripple. Nearby, two other elders, the portly, red-faced Elder Fei and the thin Elder Hong, whose goatee trembled with every emotion, had moved closer to examine the hydra's core. At Liu's words, their heads swiveled toward Xiao Lan with mechanical slowness.

Their powerful, trained spiritual senses reached out, brushing against her aura. What they found sent them staggering back in unison.

"Merciful heavens!" gasped Elder Fei, his face flushing not with anger, but with a joy so manic he seemed on the verge of a heart attack. "It's true! The aura of a perfectly consolidated Golden Core! So dense, so pure! There's no mistake!"

"And at the middle stage!" Elder Hong tore out a lock of his prized goatee without even realizing it, his eyes bloodshot with a crazed euphoria. "A genius like this hasn't been born in the southern sects in five hundred years! Five hundred years! The Scarlet Cloud Sect is going to rise! The heavens have blessed us!"

The confirmation was the match that lit the powder keg. Organized chaos, a specialty of martial sects in moments of crisis or elation, broke loose. The three elders—Fei, Hong, and a trembling Liu who had scrambled back to his feet—instinctively formed a protective cordon around Xiao Lan. She was no longer a disciple. She was a celestial treasure, a divine artifact in human form, the pillar upon which the sect's glorious future would be built. Their "Daughter of Heaven" had returned, reborn as a goddess.

In the midst of it all, Lin Feng stood a step behind her, an invisible shadow in the glare of her sun. The shift in the atmosphere was so palpable he could almost taste it. It was the taste of absolute power, and he was dangerously close to its epicenter.

Excellent, he thought with humor blacker than a demon's heart. From fertilizer specialist to portable battery and now to a living deity's accessory. My survival manual is going to need a whole new appendix on "How to Go Unnoticed When Your Boss Decides to Break the Universe."

Just then, a beam of pure golden light streaked across the sky, moving at a speed that left sound behind. It wasn't an attack, but a jade talisman of the highest quality, humming with a power so immense it caused the very air around it to warp. It stopped before the elders, pulsing with the unmistakable aura of the Sect Master.

A voice, ancient, powerful, and resonant, boomed from the talisman, echoing in the minds of all present:

"Elder Xiao Lan and the outer disciple accompanying her, present yourselves at the Celestial Phoenix Hall. Immediately!"

The word "Elder" struck everyone with the force of a war hammer. It wasn't a casual term of respect. It was a title. With that single word, the Sect Master had acknowledged her new status, elevating her above all other disciples and most of the elders present.

The procession from Condor Peak to the heart of the sect was the longest, most silent journey Lin Feng had ever made. They didn't walk; they glided through a sea of humanity that parted before them. The news, transmitted by spiritual sense and gossip at the speed of light, had emptied the training grounds, the libraries, and the alchemy halls.

Outer and inner disciples alike lined their path, their faces a gallery of extreme emotions. The outer disciples looked at her with near-religious adoration, as if gazing upon a true immortal who had descended to their world. The inner disciples, however, were a far more toxic cocktail. In their eyes, Lin Feng saw venomous envy, raw fear, begrudging admiration, and above all, the despair of knowing that all their own ambitions and achievements had just been reduced to insignificant dust before this walking miracle.

And every one of those gazes, after landing on Xiao Lan, slid to him. The shadow behind the phoenix. The servant. The enigma. He was no longer invisible. He was the man who was with her. He felt the weight of a thousand stares upon him, analyzing, cataloging, hating him by proximity. He understood with terrifying clarity that his life of anonymity, his greatest survival tool, was gone forever.

They reached the Celestial Phoenix Hall. The structure was imposing, carved into the side of the main mountain, with two hundred-meter-tall phoenix statues guarding its entrance. The air here was so thick with Qi that a common mortal would have suffocated.

Inside, beneath the soaring vault supported by dragon-shaped pillars, the high command of the Scarlet Cloud Sect waited.

On the central throne, carved from white spirit jade, sat Sect Master Ouyang Zhen. He was a middle-aged-looking man with a long black beard and eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of the stars. His aura, normally as calm as a deep lake, now had ripples of barely contained tension. He was at the peak of the Golden Core Realm, a true pillar of power in the region. At his flanks, on slightly lower seats, were the three Grand Elders, venerable-looking old men whose names were legends in the sect. Their combined auras felt like three mountains on the verge of collapse, all of them experts at the middle stage of the Golden Core.

Despite their combined centuries of experience and cultivated composure, their collective astonishment upon seeing Xiao Lan was palpable. One Grand Elder choked on his own breath. Another gripped the armrests of his throne so tightly that fine cracks appeared in the spirit wood. Sect Master Ouyang Zhen himself, for a split second, lost control of his aura, which flared out and caused the floor tiles at his feet to vibrate.

They recomposed themselves instantly, but the damage was done. The proof was before them.

A heavy silence, freighted with the weight of the impossible, descended upon the great hall. Lin Feng, standing behind Xiao Lan, felt as if he were at the bottom of the ocean, the pressure threatening to crush him. Glob, in his pocket, was completely still, having turned into a small, terrified stone of darkness.

Finally, Sect Master Ouyang Zhen cleared his throat, a sound that rumbled like the distant thunder of a summer storm. He fixed his piercing gaze on Xiao Lan, a look that seemed capable of laying a soul bare. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep bass, resonating with power and a barely contained disbelief that made every word tremble.

"Elder Xiao Lan…" he began, the title sounding both right and utterly absurd on his lips. He paused, letting the weight of the situation settle, letting the reality of her impossible achievement fill every corner of the hall.

"Explain," he continued, his voice gaining strength, each syllable a command. "Explain everything. How... has this miracle occurred in our humble Scarlet Cloud Sect?"

All eyes, from the most powerful figures in the sect, were fixed on her—and by extension, on the insignificant outer disciple hiding in her shadow—waiting for an answer that would not only change their lives, but could alter the balance of power for the entire world.