If someone had told her that during a time of great calamity for her sect, a man and a beast would be doted upon and worshipped like ancestors by the female disciples of her sect, the sect leader of the Xianling Sect would have scoffed at the idea, dismissing it as sheer nonsense. Yet now, it had become an undeniable fact right before her eyes, leaving her no choice but to believe.
The sect leader felt as if something were lodged in her chest, an unbearable weight she couldn’t shake off.
At this moment, Saintess Yanran’s breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She never expected one of her juniors to disregard the sect’s safety so casually at such a critical moment.
Who exactly was this person? What was his background?
So young—could he possibly stand up to that demon?
How ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
“Damn it! The Xianling Sect, you, and even that annoying chicken of yours will all perish beneath my demonic might! I’ve played around long enough—I will subdue you all!” Long Yanluo roared furiously. From within the surging waves of demonic energy, a concentrated demonic face emerged, looming over the heavens. Its hideous, monstrous mouth seemed as though it could swallow the entire Xianling Sect whole.
The sect leader and the senior elders’ faces darkened. Under such overwhelming power, they had no confidence they could survive.
For the sect leader and elders, it was a matter of life and death—they would stand or fall with their sect.
At this moment, Saintess Yanran ceased paying attention to those clearly deranged juniors and instead focused her gaze on the void. Her delicate lips trembled slightly as she bit down, her jade-like fingers clenched until they turned red.
In her eyes, the Xianling Sect was the strongest sect. Yet now, a demon had come knocking at their gates, threatening to destroy them.
What disappointed Yanran even more was how her juniors had failed to take the sect seriously, a fact that filled her with sorrow and anger.
But regardless, they were still her juniors. Perhaps, under such pressure, their minds had simply shattered.
Lin Fan, who was lying there quite comfortably, also felt somewhat helpless.
Didn’t the sect leader and the elders realize how powerful he was?
Why was everyone, aside from the female disciples, completely ignoring him?
It was illogical—utterly illogical.
Of course, one couldn’t entirely blame the Xianling Sect.
His entrance had hardly inspired confidence. He had appeared like a spoiled brat, lounging around and enjoying himself, with none of the dignified presence one would expect from a true master.
“Today, Xianling Sect will fight you to the death!” The sect leader stared into the void at the overwhelming demonic energy and let out a final, defiant roar.
“Hahaha! You dare challenge me to a final battle? You’re not even worthy!” Long Yanluo laughed maniacally, his sinister laughter sending chills down the spines of the Xianling Sect disciples, filling them with indescribable dread.
“Little demon, stop your wailing and moaning. You interrupted a beautiful sword dance. Do you want to die?” Lin Fan said, watching as a female disciple, unable to withstand Long Yanluo’s oppressive aura, dropped her sword to the ground mid-performance.
“Hmph?” Long Yanluo’s fury flared at these words, but he merely sneered. “Boy, you’ve had your fun. Soon, I’ll teach you the meaning of arrogance.”
Long Yanluo harbored deep hatred for Lin Fan. As men, how could the gap between them be so vast? Even a chicken seemed superior to him. How could he tolerate such humiliation?
Once, Long Yanluo had been a man of noble bearing and charm. But everything changed one day, and since then, he had hated every man who lived better than he did—especially this one, who seemed to have it so good he was practically flaunting it.
He would torture him—torture him mercilessly—until he understood the true consequences of provoking the Emperor.
“Arrogant? Forget it. I’m too lazy to argue. Let’s play for a bit first.” Lin Fan glanced at Long Yanluo in the void and waved his hand casually.
Instantly, a three-headed, six-armed demonic avatar emerged from the void above Lin Fan.
“Skyward Sword.”
With a light flick of his wrist, six swords, each formed from sword intent, materialized in the air.
The three-headed, six-armed demonic avatar, wielding six swords, stood solemn and mighty. Its three distinct faces exuded calm authority, commanding all directions.
“Attack…”
Thanks to Lin Fan’s diligent cultivation of the “Formless Demon Arts,” his power had grown significantly. His demonic avatar was far more formidable than before, especially when combined with sword intent, capable of unleashing unparalleled might.
Though it still paled in comparison to Long Yanluo, it was more than enough to keep him occupied—at the very least, long enough for the sword dance and massage to finish.
“Don’t stop. Keep going. It’s beautiful,” Lin Fan said softly.
The moment the demonic avatar appeared, the Xianling Sect disciples were stunned.
“This can’t be!” The sect leader stared at Lin Fan in disbelief.
She knew of the demonic avatar—it could only be formed by cultivating advanced techniques to a high level.
Even in the Dongling Continent, few cultivators could achieve such a feat.
Yet this young man had managed it.
At that moment, the sect leader suddenly realized something else that left her speechless.
When the disciples returned from the Sea of Buried Demons, they had reported the death of a senior elder—an unbearable loss for her.
She had listened as the disciples described how a stone coffin had drained the life from elders of several sects.
At that point, she had already begun to doubt their story.
If such a powerful demonic entity truly existed, how could they have survived?
Perhaps the disciples had been so terrified that they had lost their minds and begun spouting nonsense.
As for the tale of a young master capable of shattering the heavens with a single wave of his hand—she considered it impossible.
The world was not without prodigies, but even the most gifted could at best reach the peak of the Grand Heavenly Realm. Cultivating the chains of laws required time.
It could take years to forge a single chain, and the more chains one possessed, the slower the cultivation became.
“Hmph! Daring to challenge me with such a pitiful demonic avatar? This is nothing but a fool’s fantasy. Be gone!” Long Yanluo roared. A mass of demonic energy surged toward the demonic avatar.
“Whoosh! Whoosh!”
In an instant, the avatar moved. The six swords slashed through everything, instantly reducing the demonic energy to nothingness.
“You call yourself a demon? If you can’t even handle my demonic avatar, how dare you threaten me? How laughable,” Lin Fan said disdainfully, watching the scene unfold in the void.
“Ook! Ook!” The chick also crowed toward the sky, seemingly mocking Long Yanluo.
“Damn you…” Enraged beyond measure, Long Yanluo charged directly at the avatar.
He would tear it apart piece by piece.
Watching from below, Saintess Yanran was completely stunned. This was not at all what she had expected.
How could this young man be so powerful?
“Senior sister, we weren’t lying. The master is incredibly strong. That little demon is no match for him.”
“Yeah, senior sister! The chicken lord wants you to rub his belly. Hurry over here!”
At that moment, Yanran listened to her juniors’ words and felt an overwhelming sense of shame. It was as if she had been the one gone mad all along, while her juniors had seen the truth clearly.
When she had first heard the juniors speak of a powerful master, she had scoffed, thinking they had lost their minds.
But now, with a mere wave of his hand, this man had summoned a demonic avatar that was holding its own against the great demon.
The other disciples, standing nearby, whispered among themselves.
“So the master our senior sisters spoke of really exists.”
“Yeah, I didn’t believe it at first, but he really is incredibly strong.”
“And so handsome too.”
“I wish I could switch places with them. I’d love to serve the master.”
“Senior sister is so lucky. The chicken lord specifically asked her to rub his belly. I wish I could take her place.”
“You can only dream. We’re not nearly as pretty as she is.”
…
Hearing these whispers, Saintess Yanran stood there, stunned.
“Yanran, why don’t you go rub his belly?” The sect leader finally spoke.
“Eh…?” Yanran stared blankly at her senior, her mind a complete mess.
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