In an effort to breach the protective mountain gate array of the Dao Sword Sect, the Hengduan Mountain Alliance dispatched a team of elite warriors, consisting of a dozen Golden Core cultivators and five hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators. Almost the entire force was wiped out in the attempt.
The cost was staggering. Ten Nascent Soul cultivators perished. Initially, two of the five Nascent Soul cultivators sent were ambushed and killed by the crafty Chasing the Wind. Then, Ao Yi went berserk, slaying two more and severely injuring three others. Liu Baixuan unleashed a devastating burst of power, killing three more. Finally, as Ao Yi breathed his last, he managed to take three more with him.
The mountain gate array was indeed broken, but the price paid by the Hengduan Mountain Alliance was nothing short of catastrophic. Rough calculations suggested that they had lost nearly half of their combat strength.
Late into the night, Qiu Huahui stood at the edge of the cloud ship, her hand resting on the railing, gazing out into the darkness beyond the window, her expression blank.
Unifying the Hengduan Mountains had been her ambition, and she had worked tirelessly, sacrificing much, both physically and emotionally. She had prepared herself for the difficulties and the inevitable casualties. But when the number of deaths became overwhelming, when she saw so many lives extinguished, their bodies reduced to nothing, she began to question the very meaning of life.
The imagined deaths and the actual sight of them were profoundly different.
She wondered, was it worth it to sacrifice so many lives just to destroy the Dao Sword Sect?
She pondered, if they were to proceed and destroy the Boundless Sword Sect next, how many more would perish?
She considered, was it necessary to withdraw now to mitigate further losses?
She questioned, if she were to regret her decisions now, would it be too late?
She thought, returning now to reconsider Qin Ran's proposal of a tripartite balance among the three sects, could it still be possible?
Her thoughts were in disarray. She might have considered many things, or perhaps she had not thought at all.
She simply stared into the darkness, at the piles of corpses below, lost in confusion.
So many had died, far more than she had ever anticipated. The sheer scale of the carnage filled her with fear, hesitation, and a desire to retreat…
"Sect Leader…" Sun Yicheng's voice broke the silence behind her. "What are you thinking about?"
Qiu Huahui did not turn around, nor did she respond.
Sun Yicheng stepped up beside her, following her gaze down to the open space below the cloud ship.
Directly beneath them lay the small market outside the Dao Sword Sect.
This market was a place where Dao Sword Sect disciples, members of other sects, or lone cultivators could trade cultivation resources.
Over time, it had developed into a small village with a street. The central avenue was paved with flat stone slabs, and on either side were platforms for stalls, behind which simple thatched or wooden houses had been built.
In the past, regardless of the time of day, the market would have been bustling with activity—traders, arguments, or casual strolls—there were always people around. Some even lived in the market.
But now…
The streets, the thatched roofs, the wooden houses, the stone platforms—everywhere was stained with blood, littered with severed limbs, and strewn with corpses, transformed into a hell on earth.
Sun Yicheng gazed down, sighed, but offered no further reaction.
"Why didn't the Dao Sword Sect surrender?" Qiu Huahui suddenly asked.
Hearing this question out of nowhere, Sun Yicheng was momentarily taken aback. He turned to look at Qiu Huahui and saw a flicker of reluctance in the eyes of the usually composed sect leader.
He looked back at the darkness below, at the corpses, and slowly spoke:
"They must have had some twisted pride! Surrendering to Zhican Valley would have required them to acknowledge Zhican Valley as their superior, and then they would have been spared the war. They would have received an abundance of cultivation resources. We gain prestige, they gain substance—a win-win situation. But they were just… stubborn.
"They weren't blind to the situation. At least Qin Ran could see clearly from the beginning how it would end, but he was just… stubborn. He stirred up trouble, igniting the flames of war, forcing a situation where both sides suffer, allowing the Boundless Sword Sect to benefit from the chaos."
"Stubborn?" Qiu Huahui gently shook her head, sighing, "It's about integrity, honor, dignity, the very core of their Dao… things like that."
Sun Yicheng lacked these qualities himself, so he remained silent, unable to offer a critique.
"If, I mean if…" Qiu Huahui asked, "what would happen if we withdrew now?"
She had finally voiced the question.
Sun Yicheng looked at the blood in the darkness and smiled, praising, "Sect Leader, you truly are beautiful and kind-hearted."
In the current societal context, calling someone "honest" is akin to labeling them as naive or foolish. Similarly, in the cultivation world, praising someone as "beautiful and kind-hearted" is not necessarily a compliment, especially when said in the midst of a sea of blood and corpses, to the one who orchestrated it all.
Qiu Huahui, the leader of Zhican Valley, was no fool. She understood the implications and shot a cold glance at Sun Yicheng.
Sun Yicheng pretended not to notice and, in the darkness, began to speak slowly, carefully explaining to Qiu Huahui:
"In the previous two battles, because the Dao Sword Sect was on the defensive and benefited from Qin Ran's schemes, their casualties were minimal. However, they still lost over a hundred disciples, including two talented disciples and a formation spirit with the combat power of a Nascent Soul cultivator.
"As for us, the casualties can only be described as severe. We've lost nearly a thousand warriors, including over a dozen Nascent Soul cultivators, hundreds of Golden Core cultivators, and countless Foundation Establishment disciples…
"Although only a small fraction of these were from Zhican Valley, the sect has still suffered significant losses. Other sects have been decimated, with many dead and wounded, making it difficult to calculate the exact toll."
As he spoke of the dead, of the lives lost below them, his tone remained calm,
"War brings casualties, and wounds… The blood feud between the two sides is now irreconcilable.
"Sect Leader, once war begins, it's like an avalanche—there is no turning back."
His voice began to rise,
"You want to know what would happen if we withdrew? I'll tell you.
"Qin Ran would immediately investigate the truth behind our retreat, and then he would launch a counterattack—a frenzied, merciless counterattack.
"Didn't Qin Ran cause a massacre in Zhican Valley? Do you really think he would let this go? If we retreat, every sect that participated in this war would be targeted… until they are all destroyed!"
Qiu Huahui listened in silence, her eyes closing as she reached the end of his words.
After a long while, she opened her eyes again, now devoid of any emotion, cold as a practitioner, as a leader.
She parted her crimson lips and issued a cold command: "Advance into the Dao Sword Sect tomorrow. Follow the original plan to seal off the Dao Sword Sect…"
She added, "At all costs, eliminate Qin Ran!!"
The next day, the cloud ships of the Hengduan Mountain Alliance advanced, shattering the now blackened protective array of the Dao Sword Sect, and entered the sect's inner grounds.
However, as the black array barrier crumbled, revealing the interior of the Dao Sword Sect, the Alliance discovered that there was yet another barrier within!
The Dao Sword Sect was built upon a spiritual vein, so while its main structures were five peaks, there was still a considerable expanse of open land around them.
The protective array had encompassed this open space as well.
Now, with the outer array shattered, within that open space, the five main peaks were still enclosed by a barrier.
A barrier, a majestic landscape painting formed by intertwining black and white sword qi!
The members of the Hengduan Mountain Alliance all looked up and saw, hovering high above the Dao Sword Sect, a sword, and above the sword, a man seated in mid-air.
The man was tall and imposing, with a handsome countenance, dressed in snow-white robes, exuding an air of elegance and charm.
The sword was three feet and four inches long, with a black hilt and a white blade, resembling a brush that painted the mountains and rivers, or the yin-yang dual fish of a Daoist diagram.
The man was Lu Junxing, and the sword was the Mountain and River Sword.

lan, the Luo family, tracked him down - along with the babies in their arms. Mo Xuan stared pensively at the paternity test results from over a dozen top institutions, both domestic and international, showing a 99.99% match between himself and the two baby girls. At 23, Mo Xuan, a doctoral student, had become the father of two three-year-old children. The kicker? The mothers weren't even the same person! He gradually realized he was being lured step by step into an elaborate trap designed by these two yandere sisters. "Be good, little Xuan. Sister's life belongs to you entirely." "Brother, if you try to run away, I'll have no choice but to tie you up." Mo Xuan: "Do whatever you want, ladies. I give up."

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!

【Prologue: The Beginning of It All – Use holy water to heal the saintess tainted by demonic energy, then converse with her.】 Shen Nian stared at his older sister sipping yogurt, lost in thought. So you’re telling me my sister is the saintess, and yogurt is the holy water? 【Main Quest 1: Brave Youth, Become an Adventurer! Reward: Rookie Adventurer Title.】 【Side Quest 1: Find the Adorable Kitty! Reward: 1000 Gold Coins.】 Shen Nian: "Wait, I’m a high school senior here—did some guy who got isekai’d accidentally bind his system to me?" Hold on, completing quests gives gold rewards? Titles even boost stats? Is this for real? (A lighthearted, absurd campus comedy—not a revenge power fantasy.)

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”