On Chaoyang Peak, on the Immortal Palm Plateau. Few people remained now; most had already retreated beyond the platform. Blood stained the rocks and the packed earth. Lu Yuan’s single sword strike had grazed the wrists of hundreds, rendering them temporarily unable to fight. A hush fell as everyone turned their attention to Lu Yuan, demanding an explanation. Under the gaze of the multitude, Lu Yuan drew a deep breath: “The Huashan Sect comprises three branches. In the last five thousand years, records show they have clashed directly no fewer than three times, each occasion resulting in catastrophic casualties. Consider the Second Generation: had the founder Yun not emerged to revive Huashan, the sect might have withered entirely. Or look at the clash between the Three Branches of the Sixth Generation, which led to the destitution of the Seventh Generation, allowing Ren Du to run rampant, unchecked, until the appearance of Founder Yan…”

“Enough fighting, enough spilled blood. This kind of Huashan, I intend to end it…”

Lu Yuan’s words were met with a burst of laughter. Indeed. Huashan had persisted for five millennia; how could anything truly change?

“You claim the Second Generation had Founder Yun, and the Sixth Generation’s infighting caused the Seventh Generation’s decline, only for it to be saved by Founder Yan of the Eighth Generation. Today’s Huashan survives solely on a few peerless geniuses. Without them, Huashan would have vanished long ago,” Lu Yuan roared. “Do you still dare deny this?”

The Martial Uncle from the Sword Sect, who had spoken earlier, shouted back, “What exactly are you trying to say?” Lu Yuan’s voice hardened: “This position of Sect Master, I will take it…”

A collective uproar erupted. The Sect Master, no matter who held the title in the past, required a certain maturity in age. Even the legendary Yan Cangtian of yesteryear only assumed the mantle in his middle years. Yet here was Lu Yuan, barely thirty years old, demanding the leadership—it was utterly absurd.

Lu Yuan ignored the clamor, standing resolute: “I will not waste breath on argument. If anyone in the entire Huashan Sect—Sword, Qi, or Sword-Qi Branch—can overcome the three feet of cold steel in my hand, I will relinquish my claim to this generation’s leadership. Otherwise, the mantle of Acting Sect Master is mine. The reform of Huashan starts with me…”

With a swift movement, Lu Yuan unsheathed his Spirit Nourishing Sword.

“Here is my three feet of cold steel. Who dares face it?” One man, one sword, challenging every figure from the Sword and Qi Sects. What sheer bearing!

“Fine, I shall meet you…” Li Nongmu, a master of the Sword Sect at the Fourth Level of the Great Dao Realm, stepped forward. “Youngster Lu Yuan, allow me to test you.”

Li Qingmu, bearing a long, flowing beard and dressed in black robes, said, “Young Lu Yuan, I recall your master, Li Yuanbai, studied some of my sword techniques for a time. Let me see what skills the apprentice of Li Yuanbai possesses…” He was, in truth, a distant uncle to Li Yuanbai; otherwise, given his standing in the Sword Sect, he would never have taught Li Yuanbai a technique so intertwined with Qi arts.

Li Qingmu shifted his hand, manifesting the Night Emperor Sword Art! His technique was named Night Emperor! The Monarch of Night!

His swordsmanship was as deep as a boundless, dark ocean. Though the Sword Sect boasted many experts, few could claim to surpass his sword mastery. He unleashed a single sweep, transforming the space into a field of utter blackness that ceaselessly expanded, threatening to become eternal darkness. Lu Yuan casually sent forth a counter-strike, but its force seemed to dissolve entirely into that abyssal sea. The night was long, endless; eternal darkness was the nature of the Night Emperor.

“Blazing firelight! Divine might of the Fire Emperor! Dominate the world, sweep across the realm! Shatter this!” With a fierce shout, the magnificent Fire Emperor Sword Dao sliced down from the void above, tearing open the infinite darkness. It was a tremendous, awe-inspiring strike that swept away Li Qingmu’s gloom. Li Qingmu recoiled, spitting blood repeatedly.

Two moves! It took only two strikes to defeat Li Qingmu using the Night Emperor Sword Art.

This outcome—no one before the battle had ever imagined Lu Yuan would win against Li Qingmu in merely two moves.

“Who else?” Lu Yuan roared, one man, one sword, challenging the assembled heroes of Huashan. If initially, people had dismissed Lu Yuan as arrogant, no one thought so now.

“Allow me to challenge you, let’s see how much skill this junior possesses…” A figure emerged from the Qi Sect. This man was Ye Qingyi, master of Lightning Arts. With his Grand Art of the Divine Thunder of the Nine Heavens, he could summon endless divine thunder from the sky. If Li Qingmu ranked among the top masters of the Sword Sect’s Fourth Level of the Great Dao Realm, Ye Qingyi was arguably the foremost figure in the Qi Sect’s Fourth Level.

Ye Qingyi stepped forward and instantly activated the Divine Thunder of the Nine Heavens technique. Innumerable heavenly lightning bolts gathered in the sky—some as massive as small mountain peaks, crackling above the clouds.

Lu Yuan sneered: “If I defeat you while your technique is still forming, I fear there will be dissent. I shall crush your spell outright.” With a long bellow, he leaped into the air. Once airborne, he manifested the Dragon Art of the Sword, treating the countless colossal bolts of lightning as physical objects to be anatomically dissected.

Essence, Qi, and Spirit merged perfectly into one; man and sword became one. He perfected the Golden Emperor Sword Dao, feeling an even deeper connection to his blade; the union of self and sword felt effortless.

Under Lu Yuan’s sword, the dragon’s tail and form gradually began to emerge. These dragons continuously sliced through the massive lightning strikes, dissecting the Nine Heavens Divine Thunder with flawless, curved cuts. As the slicing intensified, a white dragon gradually materialized, completely dismantling the Divine Thunder of the Nine Heavens.

Ye Qingyi was stunned speechless. His Nine Heavens Divine Thunder had been shattered purely by swordsmanship—something unheard of until now.

What was even more terrifying was that Ye Qingyi suddenly realized the dragon head of Lu Yuan’s Dragon Art was pointing directly at him.

Dragon Spits Pearl! The Pearl shall slay Ye Qingyi!

Ye Qingyi’s soul nearly scattered. Severely weakened by the collapse of his divine thunder, and deeply shocked, he had no time to react when he saw the Dragon Spits Pearl approaching. The pearl shot toward him with terrifying speed. Ye Qingyi scrambled to defend, but every spell he threw was effortlessly broken by the Dragon Art of the Sword.

Absolute Kill on Ye Qingyi! Ye Qingyi was so rattled his spirit seemed to vacate his body. Did I die? Did I really die?

“I’m dead. I’m dead…” he cried out, before collapsing onto the ground, unconscious.

“Lu Yuan killed Martial Uncle Ye! We fight him to the death!” The man who shouted this was immediately struck by Venerable Zixia, making him realize Lu Yuan had not killed Ye Qingyi at all. The Dragon Pearl vanished, its tip stopping precisely at Ye Qingyi’s throat.

One move—one Dragon Art of the Sword—to defeat Ye Qingyi.

“Who else?” Lu Yuan roared.

One man, one sword. Standing firm, challenging the assembled masters of Huashan. The arrogance he displayed earlier was no longer mere arrogance; it was proven power. Defeating Li Qingmu in two moves, and Ye Qingyi with one Dragon Art of the Sword—what a record! These two were both masters of the Fourth Level of the Great Dao Realm, figures of considerable standing even in Jin State. While not yet at the Grandmaster or Half-Grandmaster realm, they were arguably the most formidable existences just beneath that threshold.

Yet, these figures lost so swiftly and decisively to Lu Yuan. How strong, truly, was Lu Yuan’s power? He was only at the Fourth Level of the Great Dao Realm, and these masters were clearly beyond his match. Remembering that Lu Yuan had only reached the Great Dao Realm two and a half years prior, how could he now so easily surpass masters at the Fourth Level?

Since Li Qingmu and Ye Qingyi had lost so easily, any other Fourth Level master stepping up would only face public humiliation; they couldn't possibly defeat Lu Yuan. However, allowing a junior of the Tenth Generation to become the Acting Sect Master would mean a complete loss of face for the elders. A master from the Sword Sect shouted: “Lu Yuan, don't think defeating Fourth Level masters is a great feat! If our Fifth Level masters from the Sword Sect weren't heavily injured, it wouldn't be your turn to show off…”

“Lu Yuan, when I recover, I will have a proper battle with you…” Zhan Qingyong, a Fifth Level master of the Sword Sect, shouted. Indeed, many were still unconvinced. He had only defeated those at the Fourth Level. Those at the Fifth Level who had not yet fought would certainly not submit.

Lu Yuan smiled: “Is that so? Martial Uncle Yuanyang, Martial Uncle Zixia, I trouble the two of you to explain.” Venerable Yuanyang and Venerable Zixia sighed helplessly. Venerable Yuanyang spoke, “Lu Yuan’s strength is not as simple as you imagine, Martial Uncle Zhan. A month ago, I fought Lu Yuan; I was defeated on the twenty-ninth move…” Zhan Qingyong was from the Eighth Generation; Venerable Yuanyang was from the Ninth Generation. Both possessed the same cultivation level: Fifth Level of the Great Dao Realm.

Venerable Zixia added, “A month and a half ago, I also fought Lu Yuan. I only managed to hold out until the thirty-first move at that time…”

Venerable Yuanyang and Venerable Zixia had originally been Fourth Level masters. However, after a trip to Yelu Mountain, both advanced one level, reaching the Fifth Level of the Great Dao Realm, displaying formidable combat prowess. For instance, Zhan Qingyong, a veteran general of the Sword Sect, had previously lost to Venerable Zixia during the rotation matches.

Now, both Yuanyang and Zixia admitted they could only last around twenty-nine or thirty-one moves against Lu Yuan, testifying to the true height of his current power. Lu Yuan’s strength was astonishingly profound.

Even the Fifth Level masters, Yuanyang and Zixia, admitted they were inferior, lasting only about thirty moves. Venerable Yuanyang, the Master of Sword Sect’s East Peak, and Venerable Zixia, the Master of Qi Sect’s West Peak, had no conceivable reason to lie for a junior of the Sword-Qi Sects. This had to be the truth.

“Then, who else?” Lu Yuan shouted: “If no one else challenges me, if no one can defeat the three feet of cold steel in my hand, then the position of Acting Sect Master of Huashan belongs to me…”

“From this day forward, I am the Sect Master…”