“Yuanlao Mountain…” Hunyuanzi awoke, even in the most critical moment of his retreat cultivation, he had to wake up.
“Mount Yuanlao…” Hunyuanzi awoke. Even at the most critical moment of his secluded cultivation, he had to wake.
Because tonight, beneath the high, moon-washed sky, was the culmination of his thousand-year vengeance. Time and again, he had dreamed of returning here, stepping once more onto his homeland, and subjecting the Supreme One to a thousand cuts.
And today, Hunyuanzi, coiled within Yang Hao’s dantian, trembled with anticipation.
Around them, an overwhelming aura of killing intent filled the air. The Dan Ding Sect’s eleven sword divisions—tens of thousands of disciples—stood silently beneath the night sky, their blades reflecting the silver moonlight, illuminating the forest at the mountain’s base.
Today, Yang Hao had brought the full might of the Dan Ding Sect. He was staking everything—his life, the fate of his sect, the lives of thousands—on this one gamble. Victory was the only option. Defeat meant death.
Tonight, a thousand years after Hunyuanzi’s Dan Ding Sect was shattered, Yang Hao led the new Dan Ding Sect back to this mountain, ready to raze the Council of Elders to the ground.
“Copper Furnace Mountain,” Yang Hao declared. “From today onward, this mountain’s name shall be restored.”
“Copper Furnace Mountain was the Dan Ding Sect’s sacred abode for a millennium,” Hunyuanzi’s voice echoed distantly. “Generations of our ancestors poured their strength into linking nine mountains across ten thousand zhang, forming the ‘Nine Cauldrons of the Copper Furnace’—a grand mountain array so formidable that even the combined forces of the righteous sects could never breach it.”
“Then how was it broken?” Yang Hao asked.
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi sighed, his voice laced with sorrow and nostalgia. “Because he appeared. That man… a genius beyond compare. For millennia, the struggle between righteousness and darkness had been evenly matched. But his arrival changed everything. With his power alone, he reshaped the world. No one else could have done it. No matter how much I pondered, I never imagined he would orchestrate such a grand scheme.”
“The Supreme One. A true colossus,” Yang Hao nodded. Even bearing the deep hatred of his sect, he couldn’t deny that the Supreme One was the greatest figure in the known world—second only to the Creator God. No one else had ever forged an order entirely their own. With power barely touching the divine realm, he had subdued all the divine races, quelling the universe’s wars. Such courage and wisdom made him unparalleled in history.
“You’ve never seen him. You can’t fathom what kind of man he was.” Hunyuanzi paused, gathering strength to continue. “The Nine Cauldrons’ mountain array was vast, intricate, and impenetrable. Even at the height of the righteous sects’ power, they never breached Copper Furnace Mountain’s core.”
“How did the Supreme One do it?”
“He ascended to leadership of the righteous factions in his twenties. Once in power, he halted their century-long assault on the Dan Ding Sect. Instead, he united the righteous forces and spent ten years scouring the cosmos for the Creator God’s divine artifacts.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“It was heaven’s will to destroy the Dan Ding Sect. Of the thirty divine artifacts, he found twelve. Armed with these, he marshaled the righteous factions’ strongest and launched an all-out assault.” Hunyuanzi’s voice turned hollow. “It happened during the ascension rites of our former sect leader. The Dan Ding Sect was leaderless, fractured into factions. I was just twenty-six.”
Yang Hao fell silent, his heart drowning in sorrow. A thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye—that young man of twenty-six was now a lonely spirit of a millennium.
“At twenty-six, I was named the Dan Ding Sect’s new leader. But I was young, inexperienced. The sect’s factions, each with their own masters and disciples, refused to submit to me.”
The cold wind howled, chilling Yang Hao to the bone. Though he hadn’t witnessed those events, the night’s weight felt unchanged after a thousand years.
“Even when the righteous factions attacked the Nine Cauldrons, the faction leaders fought independently, refusing to seek aid from the Dan Ding Sect’s core. They thought it was just another probing attack—a chance to prove their strength to me.” Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “They were wrong. The righteous factions had prepared for a decade, armed with divine artifacts. This was no skirmish. Over a thousand righteous cultivators, wielding divine weapons, attacked from four directions, swiftly capturing two of our mountains.”
That day’s blood-soaked battle remained vivid in Hunyuanzi’s memory:
“Only then did the factions realize the true threat. They sent urgent signals to me, still conducting rites in the core. At sunset, I took up the sect leader’s sword and led a counterattack. At Qian-Fourth Mountain, I clashed with four righteous leaders. For all their boasts of talent, they were no match for my blade. By moonrise, we had retaken our lost ground.”
“Though the casualties were heavy, we forced the righteous factions into a stalemate. Blood cascaded down the mountains like waterfalls. A century’s worth of the cultivation world’s elite perished in a single night.”
“What about the Supreme One?” Yang Hao asked, sensing the crux of the matter. The righteous leader hadn’t appeared.
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was eerily calm, devoid of its usual hatred. “After I repelled the four righteous leaders, the Dan Ding Sect’s masters and disciples knelt before me. My beloved watched from the core’s entrance. It was the pinnacle of my life—the culmination of the Dan Ding Sect’s millennia of glory.” His voice suddenly darkened. “But when I looked up, the silver moon had turned blood-red. And there he stood, at its heart, twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“Then?”
“I knew catastrophe loomed. Ignoring protests, I halted pursuit of the retreating righteous forces and summoned all disciples back to the Copper Furnace core, hundreds of li away.” Hunyuanzi chuckled dryly. “I guessed the process, but not the outcome. Just as we returned, the divine artifacts’ power descended—like a cataclysmic tribulation. Blinding, multicolored light rained down, carrying divine might that reduced mountains to dust. Not ordinary mountains—the Nine Cauldrons’ array, infused with the Dan Ding Sect’s millennia of spiritual power and countless barriers. Mountains that should have endured even if the earth shattered and stars vanished. Yet under the divine artifacts’ assault, eight were obliterated, leaving not even ash.”
“Ah.” Yang Hao sighed, surveying the surroundings. The once-mighty “Nine Cauldrons” array was gone. Only the renamed Mount Yuanlao remained, standing starkly alone.
“He led the righteous factions back to Copper Furnace Mountain. The Dan Ding Sect fought inch by inch, turning every step into a bloodbath. And in the end, he alone, with a single sword, breached the core.”
“What? Alone?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe his ears.
“Alone! One sword! The Divine Dragon Sword exploded mid-air. While the righteous and Dan Ding forces clashed outside, he stormed the core, shattering the former sect leader’s ascension altar with a single strike.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “A genius beyond compare! After piercing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of our ancestors and declared: ‘All gods and immortals are false—only our swords are real!’”
“‘All gods and immortals are false—only our swords are real!’” Yang Hao murmured. “Truly, a peerless figure.”
“In all the world, only I could face him in battle.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was quiet. “So I raised my sword and clashed with the Divine Dragon Sword. The Dan Ding core became our battlefield, while outside, the sect and righteous factions fought to the death. The battle lasted seven days.”
“The result?”
“He was wounded. I was defeated.” Hunyuanzi’s answer was expected. “The Dan Ding Sect was annihilated—my disciples, masters, comrades, my beloved—all erased from this world. He thought he had wiped out everything. But I left a seed. Even in death, my vengeance lived. And so, we have today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance.” Yang Hao glanced around. The Dan Ding Sect’s strongest were ready, awaiting his order to storm Mount Yuanlao and raze the Council of Elders.
Meanwhile, the nine presiding elders were trapped in the imperial palace, ensnared by the Old Sword Saint and three thousand disciples, doomed for eternity.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. The Council’s wings had been clipped. The Supreme One’s legacy had been squandered. Even the last remaining presiding elders were trapped. On Mount Yuanlao, only three hundred elders remained.
But those were three hundred saints.
Yang Hao’s wrist turned slowly, his fist clenching tight. “The sword is still in hand!”
That was the command.
All the shadows hidden in the forest advanced on Mount Yuanlao.
The slaughter was destined in utter silence.
As Yang Hao’s forces moved under cover of night, nearing the mountain’s defenses, the Council remained oblivious, sealed in its ivory tower. The three hundred elders meditated as usual, their defenses weakened without the Ten Sword Streams’ protection.
But not all were blind. Su Hanjing’s heart suddenly trembled.
Looking up through the ten-meter-high skylight, he saw birds flit across the artificial moon. A chill ran down his spine.
He stood abruptly, his gaze like a cold blade, startling most of the elders from their meditation.
“Su Hanjing! What are you doing?” an elder snapped. Daily meditation was mandatory—no exceptions.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair. Normally unremarkable, today, his blood burned. He sensed it—the decades of meditation, the Council’s dull existence—all ending now. His life was meant to burn for this day.
“Enemies approach,” Su Hanjing said, breath quickening. “Many are coming.”
“Nonsense!” another elder scoffed. “The four guardian sword sects—” He stopped, remembering the Ten Sword Streams had rebelled days ago. Mount Yuanlao stood alone.
“This is Mount Yuanlao! Who would dare?!” an elder sneered. Even without the presiding elders, hierarchy ruled here.
But Su Hanjing’s fire was lit. After years of obscurity, his moment had come.
Without a word, he thrust a palm forward, shattering the wooden windows before the hall.
The cold night wind rushed in, but what froze the elders’ blood was the sight below.
Thousands of white cloaks surged up Mount Yuanlao’s sole path. Under the artificial moon’s glow, they made no effort to hide. To them, the white cloaks symbolized glory.
The mark of the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Undying War God.
The honor of never knowing defeat.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders jolted upright in horror. “The Dan Ding Sect is attacking!”
Their fury was impotent. The Dan Ding forces swarmed the mountain—Yang Hao had staked everything.
They were here. What now?
That was the elders’ dilemma. The Council’s hierarchy was rigid. Decisions lay with the presiding elders. Ordinary elders only acted on orders.
But the presiding elders were gone. Leaderless, they hesitated.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice wasn’t loud, but all eyes turned to him.
“The nine presiding elders went to assassinate the emperor—it was a trap. Yang Hao planned this. Today, he destroys the Council.”
“What do we do?”
“Only one path remains.” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We fight.”
Murmurs erupted.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! Even the presiding elders fell to him. How can we face him?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Dan Ding Sword Sect is formidable. We should retreat—live to fight another day.”
And today, Hunyuanzi, filled with pent-up rage, trembled inside Yang Hao’s dantian.
Around the two of them, the air was thick with killing intent. The elven sword formations of the Dan Ding Sect, with tens of thousands of disciples, stood silently in the dark night. Their long swords reflected the silver glow of the moonlight, illuminating the woods at the foot of the mountain.
Today, Yang Hao had brought every ounce of strength the Dan Ding Sect possessed. He was gambling everything—his life, the sect’s fate, and the lives of ten thousand people—on this single decisive battle. He must win; he could not afford to lose, for defeat meant only death.
Tonight, exactly one month after Hunyuanzi’s Dan Ding Sect had been destroyed a thousand years ago, Yang Hao led the new Dan Ding Sect back to this mountain, determined to crush the Yuanlao Council.
“Copper Cauldron Mountain,” Yang Hao said. “Starting today, this mountain will reclaim its original name.”
“Copper Cauldron Mountain,” Hunyuanzi said, his voice distant. “For a thousand years, it was the sacred domain of the Dan Ding Sect. In ancient times, generation after generation of our sect’s greatest cultivators poured their efforts into connecting nine mountains within a ten-thousand-meter radius, forming the grand formation known as the ‘Nine Cauldrons of Copper Cauldron Mountain.’ Even the prolonged attacks from the righteous sects over the years could not breach it.”
“But how did it finally fall?” Yang Hao asked.
“Heh!” Hunyuanzi sighed deeply, his voice tinged with both sorrow and nostalgia. “Because he appeared. This man was truly a genius beyond compare. For thousands of years, the righteous and the heretical cultivators were evenly matched, locked in a stalemate. But when this man appeared, the entire world changed. He alone reshaped the world. I never imagined that this man would create such a grand situation.”
“The Mountain of Elders…” Hunyuanzi awoke. Even at the most critical moment of his secluded cultivation, he had to wake.
Because tonight, beneath the high, moon-washed sky, was the culmination of his thousand-year vengeance. Time and again, he had dreamed of returning here, stepping once more onto the soil of his past, and carving the Supreme One into a thousand pieces.
And now, on this very night, Hunyuanzi trembled within Yang Hao’s dantian.
Around them, an overwhelming aura of slaughter filled the air. Tens of thousands of disciples from the Alchemy Sword Sect’s eleven Sword Master Regiments stood silently beneath the dark sky, their blades reflecting the silver moonlight, illuminating the forest at the mountain’s base.
Tonight, Yang Hao had brought the full might of the Alchemy Sword Sect. He was staking everything—his life, the fate of his sect, the lives of thousands—on this one gamble. He could only win. To lose meant death.
Tonight, a thousand years after the fall of Hunyuanzi’s Alchemy Sword Sect, Yang Hao and the new Alchemy Sword Sect would return to this mountain and raze the Elder Council to the ground.
“Copper Furnace Mountain,” Yang Hao declared. “From this day forth, this mountain shall reclaim its true name.”
“Copper Furnace Mountain was once the sacred site of the Alchemy Twin Cultivation Sect for a thousand years,” Hunyuanzi’s voice echoed distantly. “Generations of our ancestors poured their hearts into linking nine mountains across ten thousand zhang, forming the ‘Nine Cauldrons of the Copper Furnace’—a grand mountain array so formidable that even the combined forces of the righteous sects could never breach it, no matter how long they tried.”
“Then how was it broken?” Yang Hao asked.
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi sighed, his voice laced with sorrow and nostalgia. “Because *he* appeared. That man… he was a peerless genius. For millennia, the struggle between righteousness and darkness had been evenly matched, neither side gaining the upper hand. But when he emerged, the world changed. With his strength alone, he reshaped the heavens and earth. No one else could have done it. No matter how much I pondered, I never imagined he would achieve such a monumental feat.”
“The Supreme One. A true legend.” Yang Hao nodded. Even bearing the deep hatred of his sect, he couldn’t deny that the Supreme One was one of the greatest figures in the known world—second only to the Creator God himself. No one else had ever forged an order entirely their own. With power barely stepping into the divine realm, he had subdued all the divine races, bringing an end to the cosmic wars. Such courage and wisdom made him unparalleled in history.
“You’ve never seen him. You can’t imagine what kind of man he was.” Hunyuanzi paused, gathering strength before continuing. “The Nine Cauldrons of the Copper Furnace—such an intricate, unfathomable formation. Even when the righteous sects sent their strongest, they never breached the heart of Copper Furnace Mountain.”
“How did the Supreme One do it?”
“He ascended to leadership of the righteous factions at just over twenty. Once in power, he halted their century-long assault on the Alchemy Sword Sect. Instead, he united the righteous forces and spent ten years scouring the cosmos for the divine artifacts left by the Creator God.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“It was the will of heaven to destroy the Alchemy Sword Sect. Thirty divine artifacts—and he found twelve. With their overwhelming power, he marshaled the righteous factions and launched a full-scale assault.” Hunyuanzi’s voice grew weary. “At the time, our previous sect leader had just ascended to immortality. The Alchemy Twin Cultivation Sect was leaderless, fractured into factions. I was only twenty-six.”
Yang Hao fell silent, his heart drowning in sorrow. A thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. The young man of twenty-six was now a lonely soul, a ghost of vengeance.
“At twenty-six, I was named the new leader of the Alchemy Sword Sect by the previous master. But I was young, inexperienced. The sect was divided, with countless disciples loyal to their own masters. Why would they obey me?”
A cold wind howled, chilling Yang Hao to the bone. He hadn’t witnessed the events of a thousand years ago, but the night was just as heavy now as it had been then.
“Even when the righteous factions stormed the Nine Cauldrons, the various masters fought independently, refusing to call for reinforcements from the Alchemy Cavern. They thought this was just another probing attack. They wanted to prove their strength to me by standing alone.” Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “They were wrong. The righteous factions had prepared for ten years, armed with divine artifacts. How could they retreat so easily? A thousand righteous cultivators, wielding countless divine weapons, divided into four prongs and swiftly took two of our mountains.”
The bloody battle of that day remained vivid in Hunyuanzi’s memory.
“Only then did the masters realize the true threat. They sent signal swords to me, still in the cavern’s sacrificial rites. As the sun set in a bloody glow, I grasped the sect leader’s sword and led my disciples in a desperate counterattack. At the Fourth Qian Mountain, I clashed with four righteous sect leaders. For all their vaunted strength, they were no match for my blade. By moonrise, we had retaken our lost ground.”
Though the casualties were heavy, the righteous offensive was forced into a deadlock. Blood cascaded down the cliffs like waterfalls. A century’s worth of elite cultivators perished in a single night.
“What about the Supreme One?” Yang Hao asked, sensing the crux of the matter. The righteous leader had been conspicuously absent.
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was eerily calm, devoid of its usual hatred. “After I repelled the four righteous leaders, the masters and disciples of the Alchemy Sword Sect knelt before me. Your master’s wife watched from the cavern entrance. It was the most glorious moment of my life—the culmination of millennia of the sect’s honor.”
Then his voice darkened. “But when I looked up, the silver moon had turned blood-red. And there he stood, at its heart, twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“What happened next?”
“I knew disaster was coming. Against all protests, I halted our pursuit of the retreating righteous forces and summoned every disciple back to the main cavern of Copper Furnace Mountain.” Hunyuanzi chuckled dryly. “I guessed the process right, but not the outcome. The moment our last disciple returned, the divine artifacts’ power descended—like a cataclysmic tribulation. Beams of radiant, multicolored light, infused with divine might, reduced peak after peak to dust. These weren’t ordinary mountains. They were part of the Nine Cauldrons formation, infused with a millennium of the sect’s spiritual power and countless protective barriers. Even if the earth shattered and the stars vanished, they should have stood firm. Yet under the divine artifacts’ assault, eight mountains were obliterated, leaving not even ash behind.”
Yang Hao exhaled heavily, surveying the surroundings. The once-mighty Nine Cauldrons formation was gone. Only the main peak—renamed the Mountain of Elders—remained, standing stark and solitary.
“The Supreme One led the righteous forces back to Copper Furnace Mountain. Our disciples fought inch by inch, turning every step into a bloodbath. The path of several thousand meters was paved with the flesh and blood of both sides. And in the end, he strode into the cavern alone, wielding a single sword.”
“Alone?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe his ears.
“One man. One sword. The miraculous Divine Dragon Sword exploded in the air. While the righteous and our disciples slaughtered each other outside, he charged into the cavern and shattered the altar where our previous leader had ascended.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “A peerless genius! Truly peerless! After tearing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of our past masters and declared: *‘All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords are real!’*”
“*All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords are real!*” Yang Hao murmured. “Indeed, he was a man without equal.”
“In all the world, only I could face him in battle.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was quiet. “So I raised my sword and clashed with the Divine Dragon Sword. Inside the cavern, it was just him and me. Outside, the Alchemy Sword Sect and the righteous factions fought to the death. That battle lasted seven days.”
“And the result?”
“He was wounded. I was defeated.” The answer was expected. “The Alchemy Sword Sect was annihilated. My disciples, my masters, my brethren, my woman—all erased from this world. He thought he had wiped everything away. But I left behind a seed. Even after my body perished, my vengeance lived on. And so we arrive at today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance.” Yang Hao glanced around. The Alchemy Sword Sect’s greatest experts stood ready, awaiting his command to storm the Mountain of Elders and topple the Elder Council.
Meanwhile, the nine presiding elders were trapped in the imperial palace, ensnared by the old Sword Saint and three thousand disciples, doomed to eternal imprisonment.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. The Elder Council’s wings had been clipped. The Supreme One’s legacy had been squandered. Even the last remaining presiding elders were trapped. On the Mountain of Elders, only three hundred elders remained.
But those were three hundred *Saints*.
Yang Hao’s wrist turned slowly, his fist clenching tight. “The sword is still in hand!”
That was the command.
All the shadows hidden in the forest surged toward the Mountain of Elders.
The battle was destined to unfold in absolute silence.
As Yang Hao’s army advanced under the cover of night, nearing the mountain’s defenses, the Elder Council remained oblivious, sealed within their ivory tower. The three hundred elders continued their meditative cultivation, their defenses weakened without the Ten Sword Streams’ protection.
But not all were blind.
Su Hanjing’s heart suddenly trembled.
When he looked up, his gaze piercing the ten-meter-high skylight, he saw a bird flit across the artificial moon. A chill ran down his spine.
He stood abruptly, his sharp gaze sweeping the hall, startling most of the three hundred elders from their meditation.
“Su Hanjing? What are you doing?” an elder snapped. Daily cultivation was mandatory—no exceptions.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair cascading over his shoulders. Normally unremarkable, today, his blood burned with purpose. He felt it—the decades of meditation, the dull life of the Elder Council—all of it was ending. His life was meant to blaze on this day.
“They’re coming,” Su Hanjing said, his breath quickening. “A great many. They’re coming for us.”
“Nonsense!” another elder barked. “The Four Guardian Sword Sects are—” He cut himself off, remembering. The Ten Sword Streams had rebelled days ago. The Mountain of Elders stood alone.
“Who would dare challenge the Elder Council?!” an older elder scoffed. Even without the presiding elders, seniority still ruled here.
But Su Hanjing’s fire had been lit. After years of obscurity, his moment had arrived.
Without another word, he thrust out a palm, shattering the wooden windows of the grand hall before the stunned elders.
The night wind rushed in, carrying not just cold—but the sight that froze their blood.
Thousands of white cloaks surged up the mountain’s sole path, their movements unhidden beneath the artificial moon’s glow. To them, these white cloaks were badges of honor.
The symbol of the Alchemy Sword Sect and the Undying War God.
The glory of never having known defeat.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders gasped, leaping to their feet. “The Alchemy Sword Sect dares attack us?!”
Their fury was impotent. The sight of the Alchemy Sword Sect’s forces swarming the mountain left no doubt—Yang Hao had staked everything on this.
They were here. Now what?
That was the problem. The Elder Council had always been hierarchical. Decisions rested with the presiding elders. The rest merely cultivated, acting only on orders.
But the presiding elders were gone. Leaderless, the remaining elders hesitated, unsure who should take charge.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice wasn’t loud, but it commanded attention. “The nine presiding elders went to assassinate the emperor today. They walked into a trap. Yang Hao planned this—to destroy the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?”
“There’s only one path now.” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We fight for ourselves.”
Murmurs erupted.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! We’ve seen his power—even the presiding elders fell to him. Elder Tiance hasn’t recovered. How can we face him?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Alchemy Sword Sect is formidable. We should retreat—live to fight another day.”
“You’ve never seen him, so you can’t even begin to imagine what kind of man he was,” Hunyuanzi had to pause to gather strength to continue. “The grand formation of the Nine Cauldrons of Copper Cauldron Mountain—how vast and intricate it was, how difficult to penetrate. Even the greatest experts of the righteous sects together could never breach the heart of Copper Cauldron Mountain.”
“Mount Yuanshan…” Hunyuanzi awoke. Even at the most critical moment of his secluded cultivation, he had to wake.
Because tonight, beneath the high, moon-washed sky, was the culmination of his thousand-year vengeance. Time and again, he had dreamed of returning here, stepping once more onto his homeland, and subjecting the Supreme One to a thousand cuts.
And today, Hunyuanzi, coiled within Yang Hao’s dantian, trembled with anticipation.
Around them, an overwhelming aura of slaughter filled the air. The Dan Ding Sect’s eleven swordmaster legions—tens of thousands of disciples—stood silently beneath the night sky, their blades reflecting the silver moonlight, illuminating the forest at the mountain’s base.
Today, Yang Hao had brought the full might of the Dan Ding Sect. He was gambling everything—his life, the fate of his sect, the lives of thousands—on this one battle. Victory was the only option. Defeat meant death.
A thousand years after the fall of Hunyuanzi’s Dan Ding Sect, on this very night, Yang Hao and the new Dan Ding Sect would return to this mountain and raze the Council of Elders.
“Copper Furnace Mountain,” Yang Hao declared. “From today onward, this mountain’s name shall be restored.”
“Copper Furnace Mountain was the sacred ground of the Dan Ding Dual Cultivation Sect for a millennium,” Hunyuanzi’s voice echoed distantly. “Generations of our predecessors poured their hearts into linking nine mountains across a radius of ten thousand zhang, forming the ‘Nine Cauldrons of the Copper Furnace’—a grand mountain array so formidable that even the combined forces of the righteous sects could never breach it.”
“Then how was it broken?” Yang Hao asked.
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi sighed, his voice laced with sorrow and nostalgia. “Because *he* appeared. That man… a genius beyond compare. For millennia, the struggle between righteousness and darkness had been evenly matched. But with his arrival, the world shifted. He alone reshaped the heavens and earth. No matter how much I pondered, I never imagined he would orchestrate such a grand scheme.”
“The Supreme One. A true colossus.” Yang Hao nodded. Even bearing the deep hatred of his sect, he couldn’t deny that the Supreme One was the greatest figure in the known world—second only to the Creator God. No one else had ever forged an order entirely their own. With power barely touching the divine realm, he had subdued all divine races, quelling cosmic strife. Such courage and wisdom made him unparalleled in history.
“You’ve never seen him. You can’t fathom what kind of man he was.” Hunyuanzi paused, gathering strength to continue. “The Nine Cauldrons’ mountain array was vast, intricate, and unfathomable. Even when the righteous sects sent their finest, they never breached Copper Furnace Mountain’s core.”
“How did the Supreme One do it?”
“He ascended to leadership of the righteous factions in his twenties. Upon taking power, he halted their century-long assault on the Dan Ding Sect. Instead, he united the righteous forces and spent ten years scouring the cosmos for the Creator God’s divine artifacts.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“It was heaven’s will to destroy the Dan Ding Sect. Of the thirty divine artifacts, he found twelve. Armed with these weapons of divine might, he marshaled the righteous factions’ strongest and launched a full-scale assault.” Hunyuanzi’s voice turned hollow. “It happened during the ascension rites of our previous sect master. The Dan Ding Sect was leaderless, its factions divided. I was just twenty-six.”
Yang Hao fell silent, his heart drowning in sorrow. A thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. The young man of twenty-six was now a millennium-old wandering soul.
“At twenty-six, I was named the Dan Ding Sect’s new leader by the previous master. But I was young and inexperienced. With so many factions and thousands of disciples, each loyal to their own masters, who would submit to me?”
A cold wind howled, chilling Yang Hao to the bone. Though he hadn’t witnessed the events of a thousand years ago, the night’s oppressive weight felt unchanged.
“Even when the righteous factions stormed the Nine Cauldrons, the faction leaders fought independently, refusing to seek aid from the Dan Ding Cavern. They thought it was just another probing attack—a chance to prove their strength to me.” Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “They were wrong. The righteous factions had prepared for a decade, armed with divine artifacts. How could they retreat so easily? Over a thousand righteous cultivators, wielding countless divine weapons, attacked from four directions and swiftly captured two of our mountains.”
The blood-soaked battle remained vivid in Hunyuanzi’s memory:
“Only then did the factions realize the true threat. They sent signal swords to alert me in the cavern. As the sun set in a bloody hue, I grasped the sect master’s sword and led a counterattack. At Qian-Fourth Mountain, I clashed with four righteous leaders. For all their vaunted talent, they were no match for my blade. By moonrise, we had retaken our lost ground.”
Though the casualties were heavy, the righteous forces were pushed to the brink. Blood cascaded down the cliffs like waterfalls. A century’s worth of the cultivation world’s finest perished in a single night.”
“What about the Supreme One?” Yang Hao asked, sensing the crux. The righteous leader hadn’t appeared.
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was eerily calm, devoid of its usual hatred. “After I repelled the four righteous leaders, the Dan Ding Sect’s masters and disciples knelt before me. Your master’s wife watched from the cavern entrance. It was the pinnacle of my life—the culmination of millennia of the Dan Ding Sect’s glory.” His voice suddenly darkened. “But when I looked up, the silver moon had turned blood-red. And there he stood, at its heart, twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“And then?”
“I knew catastrophe loomed. Ignoring protests, I halted pursuit of the retreating righteous forces and summoned all disciples back to the Copper Furnace’s main peak.” Hunyuanzi chuckled dryly. “I guessed the process but not the outcome. Just as we retreated, the twelve divine artifacts unleashed their might—like a cataclysmic tribulation. Beams of dazzling, multicolored light rained down, carrying divine power that reduced mountains to dust. Not ordinary mountains, but the Nine Cauldrons—fortified by millennia of spiritual energy and countless barriers. Even if the world ended, they should have stood eternal. Yet under the divine artifacts’ assault, eight peaks were obliterated without a trace.”
Yang Hao sighed, surveying the surroundings. The once-mighty “Nine Cauldrons” array was gone. Only the main peak—renamed Mount Yuanshan—remained, standing stark and solitary.
“He led the righteous forces back to Copper Furnace Mountain. The Dan Ding Sect fought inch by inch, turning every step into a bloodbath. And in the end, he alone—with a single sword—pierced into the cavern.”
“Alone?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe his ears.
“Alone! One sword! The Divine Dragon Sword exploded midair. While the righteous and Dan Ding forces clashed outside, he stormed the cavern and shattered the previous master’s ascension altar with a single strike.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “A genius beyond compare! After tearing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of past masters and declared: *‘All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords rage true!’*”
“*All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords rage true!*” Yang Hao murmured. “Truly, a peerless figure.”
“In all the world, only I could face him.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was calm. “So I raised my sword and clashed with the Divine Dragon Sword. Inside the cavern, it was our duel. Outside, the Dan Ding Sect and the righteous factions fought to the death. The battle lasted seven days.”
“And the result?”
“He was wounded. I was defeated.” Hunyuanzi’s answer was expected. “The Dan Ding Sect was annihilated—my disciples, my masters, my brethren, my woman—all erased from existence. He thought he had wiped everything away. But I left a seed. My vengeance never died. And so, we have today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance.” Yang Hao glanced around. The Dan Ding Sect’s top experts stood ready, awaiting his command to storm Mount Yuanshan and topple the Council of Elders.
Meanwhile, the nine presiding elders were trapped in the imperial palace, ensnared by the Old Sword Saint and three thousand disciples, doomed to eternal confinement.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. The Council’s wings had been clipped. The Supreme One’s legacy had been squandered. Even the last remaining presiding elders were trapped. On Mount Yuanshan, only three hundred elders remained.
But they were three hundred *Saints*.
Yang Hao’s wrist turned slowly, his fist clenching tight. “The sword is still in hand!”
That was the command.
All the shadows hidden in the forest advanced toward Mount Yuanshan.
The slaughter was destined in utter silence.
As Yang Hao’s forces moved under cover of night, nearing the mountain’s defenses, the Council of Elders remained oblivious, sealed in their ivory tower. The three hundred elders meditated as usual, their defenses weakened without the Ten Sword Streams’ protection.
But not all were blind. Su Hanjing’s heart suddenly trembled.
Looking up through the ten-meter-high skylight, he saw a bird flit past the artificial moon. A chill ran down his spine.
He stood abruptly, his gaze like a cold blade sweeping the hall, startling most of the elders from their meditation.
“Su Hanjing! What are you doing?” an elder snapped. Daily meditation was mandatory—no exceptions.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair. Normally unremarkable, today, his blood burned. He sensed it—the decades of meditation, the Council’s dull routine—all ending now. His life was meant to blaze today.
“Enemies are coming,” Su Hanjing said, breath quickening. “Many of them.”
“Nonsense!” another elder barked. “The Four Guardian Sword Sects are—” He stopped, remembering the Ten Sword Streams had rebelled days ago. Mount Yuanshan stood alone.
“This is the Council’s sacred ground! Who would dare?!” an elder scoffed. Even without the presiding elders, hierarchy ruled here.
But Su Hanjing’s fire had ignited. His moment had come.
Without a word, he thrust a palm forward, shattering the wooden windows before the hall.
The night wind rushed in, but what froze everyone’s blood was the sight beyond.
Thousands of white cloaks surged up Mount Yuanshan’s sole path. Under the artificial moon’s glow, they made no effort to hide. To them, the white cloaks were their pride.
The symbol of the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Undying War God.
The glory of never knowing defeat.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders jolted upright in horror. “The Dan Ding Sect is attacking!”
Their fury was impotent. The Dan Ding forces swarmed the mountain like a tide. Yang Hao had staked everything on this gamble.
They were here. What now?
That was the problem. The Council’s hierarchy was rigid. Decisions belonged to the presiding elders. Ordinary elders only acted on their orders.
But the presiding elders were gone. Leaderless, the remaining elders hesitated.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice wasn’t loud, but all eyes turned to him. “The nine presiding elders went to assassinate the emperor. They’ve walked into a trap. Yang Hao planned this—to destroy the Council today.”
“What do we do?”
“Only one path remains.” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We fight *ourselves*.”
Murmurs erupted.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! Even the presiding elders lost to him. How can we win?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Dan Ding Sword Sect is formidable. We should retreat—live to fight another day.”
“He became the leader of the righteous sects when he was barely twenty. After assuming power, he astonishingly halted the century-long attacks on the Dan Ding Sect. Instead, he united the righteous sects and spent a full ten years searching the universe for divine artifacts left behind by the Creator God.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“Fate doomed the Dan Ding Sect. Out of the thirty divine artifacts, this man managed to find twelve. With these artifacts brimming with heavenly might, he marshaled the greatest experts of the righteous sects and launched a full-scale assault on the Dan Ding Sect.” Hunyuanzi’s voice grew heavy with despair. “Those days were the time of the previous sect leader’s ascension ceremony. The entire Dan Ding Sect was leaderless, with various factions vying for power. I was only twenty-six back then.”
Yang Hao remained silent, but sorrow surged within him like an ocean. In the blink of an eye, a thousand years had passed. That twenty-six-year-old youth had now become a solitary soul adrift for a millennium.
“At twenty-six, I was recognized by the former sect leader as the new leader of the Dan Ding Sect, but I was still young and lacked experience. With so many factions in the sect, each with their own masters and thousands of disciples, how could they accept me?”
The cold wind howled, making Yang Hao shiver. He had not witnessed the events of a thousand years ago, but the night was just as heavy, unchanged through the ages.
“Even when the righteous sects marched upon the Nine Cauldrons, each faction fought independently, unwilling to seek help from the main sect at Copper Cauldron Mountain. They thought it was just another test by the righteous sects, and they wanted to show their strength by fighting alone in front of me.” Hunyuanzi gave a bitter smile. “But the masters were wrong. The righteous sects had spent ten years preparing, and now wielded divine artifacts—how could they stop after just a taste? They had over a thousand cultivators, countless divine weapons flying in the sky, and they attacked from four directions, swiftly capturing two of our mountains.”
The blood-soaked battle of that day was still vivid in Hunyuanzi’s mind:
“It was only then that the various factions realized they were facing a true enemy. They immediately sent out signal swords to inform me, who was performing the ascension ceremony in the main sect. It was near sunset, and I held the sect leader’s sword, leading my disciples in a fierce counterattack. At the Qiansi Mountain outpost, I fought fiercely against the four leaders of the righteous sects. How laughable—the righteous sects boasted of their talents, yet before my sword, they were helpless. The battle raged until the moon rose, and the Dan Ding Sect reclaimed the two lost mountains.
Although we suffered heavy losses, the righteous sects’ attack had been pushed to a desperate standstill. Blood flowed like waterfalls down the mountain walls, and the cream of the entire cultivation world was wiped out in a single night.”
“Mount Yuanlao…” Hunyuanzi awoke. Even at the most critical moment of his secluded cultivation, he had to wake.
Tonight, beneath the high, moon-washed sky, was the culmination of his thousand-year vengeance. He had dreamed countless times of returning here, stepping once more onto his homeland, and exacting his revenge upon the Supreme One.
And today, Hunyuanzi trembled within Yang Hao’s dantian.
Around them, an overwhelming aura of slaughter filled the air. The Dan Ding Sect’s eleven swordmaster legions—tens of thousands of disciples—stood silently beneath the night sky, their blades reflecting the silver moonlight, illuminating the forest at the mountain’s base.
Today, Yang Hao had brought the full might of the Dan Ding Sect. He was staking everything—his life, the fate of his sect, the lives of thousands—on this one gamble. He could only win. To lose meant death.
Tonight, a thousand years after the fall of Hunyuanzi’s Dan Ding Sect, Yang Hao and the new Dan Ding Sect would return to this mountain and raze the Council of Elders.
“Copper Furnace Mountain,” Yang Hao declared. “From today onward, this mountain shall reclaim its name.”
“Copper Furnace Mountain was the sacred site of the Dan Ding Dual Cultivation Sect for a millennium,” Hunyuanzi’s voice echoed distantly. “Generations of our predecessors poured their hearts into forging the ‘Nine Cauldrons of the Copper Furnace,’ a grand formation connecting nine peaks across ten thousand zhang. Even the combined forces of the righteous sects could never breach it.”
“Then how was it broken?” Yang Hao asked.
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi sighed, his voice tinged with sorrow and nostalgia. “Because he appeared. That man… a peerless genius. For millennia, the struggle between righteousness and evil had been evenly matched. But when he emerged, the world changed. He alone reshaped the heavens and earth. No matter how much I pondered, I never imagined he would orchestrate such a grand scheme.”
“The Supreme One. A true colossus.” Yang Hao nodded. Even bearing the deep hatred of his sect, he could not deny that the Supreme One was the greatest figure in the known world—second only to the Creator God. None had ever established an order so thoroughly their own. With power barely touching the divine realm, he subdued all the godly races, quelling the wars of the cosmos. Such courage and wisdom made him unparalleled in history.
“You cannot fathom what kind of man he was unless you saw him.” Hunyuanzi paused, gathering strength to continue. “The Nine Cauldrons formation was vast and unfathomable. Even at their peak, the righteous sects never breached the heart of Copper Furnace Mountain.”
“How did the Supreme One do it?”
“He ascended to leadership of the righteous factions in his twenties. Upon taking power, he halted their century-long assault on the Dan Ding Sect. Instead, he united the righteous forces and spent ten years scouring the cosmos for the Creator God’s divine artifacts.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“It was the heavens’ will to destroy Dan Ding. Of the thirty divine artifacts, he found twelve. With their overwhelming power, he marshaled the righteous factions and launched a full-scale assault.” Hunyuanzi’s voice grew weary. “It was during the ascension rites of our former sect leader. The Dan Ding Sect was leaderless, its factions divided. I was only twenty-six.”
Yang Hao remained silent, but sorrow surged within him. A thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. The young man of twenty-six was now a lonely spirit of a millennium.
“At twenty-six, I was named the next leader of Dan Ding. But I was young and inexperienced. The sect’s many factions, each with their own masters and disciples, refused to submit to me.”
A cold wind howled, chilling Yang Hao to the bone. Though he had not witnessed those events, the weight of that night remained unchanged after a thousand years.
“Even when the righteous factions stormed the Nine Cauldrons, the various masters fought independently, refusing to seek aid from the Dan Ding Cavern. They thought it was just another probing attack—a chance to prove themselves before me.” Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “They were wrong. The righteous factions had prepared for a decade, armed with divine artifacts. Their assault was no mere skirmish. Over a thousand righteous cultivators descended, their divine weapons filling the skies. They struck in four waves, swiftly capturing two of our peaks.”
The blood-soaked battle remained vivid in Hunyuanzi’s memory:
“Only then did the factions realize the true threat. They sent urgent signals to me in the cavern. As the sun set in a bloody hue, I grasped the sect leader’s sword and led our disciples in a desperate counterattack. At Qian Four Peak, I clashed with four righteous leaders. For all their vaunted talent, they were no match for my blade. By moonrise, we had retaken our lost ground.”
“Though the casualties were heavy, we forced the righteous factions into a deadlock. Blood cascaded down the cliffs like waterfalls. The elite of the cultivation world perished in a single night.”
“What about the Supreme One?” Yang Hao asked, sensing the crux. The righteous leader had yet to appear.
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was eerily calm, devoid of its usual hatred. “After repelling the four righteous leaders, the Dan Ding masters and disciples knelt before me. Your master’s wife watched from the cavern entrance. It was the pinnacle of my life—the glory of millennia resting upon me.” His tone shifted abruptly. “But when I looked up, the moon was blood-red. And there he stood, within its glow, twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“Then?”
“I knew calamity had come. Ignoring protests, I halted pursuit of the retreating righteous forces and summoned all disciples back to the main cavern. I guessed the process but not the outcome. As we withdrew, the divine artifacts unleashed their might—like a cataclysmic tribulation. Blinding, multicolored beams descended, carrying divine power that reduced entire peaks to dust. These were no ordinary mountains. They were the Nine Cauldrons, infused with millennia of spiritual energy and countless protective barriers. Even if the world ended, they should have stood eternal. Yet under the divine artifacts’ assault, eight peaks were obliterated without a trace.”
“Ah.” Yang Hao sighed, surveying the surroundings. The once-mighty Nine Cauldrons formation was gone. Only the main peak—renamed Mount Yuanlao—remained, standing stark and solitary.
“The Supreme One led the righteous factions back to Copper Furnace Mountain. The Dan Ding disciples fought bitterly, every inch of the thousand-meter ascent soaked in blood. In the end, he alone entered the cavern.”
“Alone?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe his ears.
“Alone! With a single sword—the miraculous Divine Dragon Sword. While the righteous and Dan Ding forces clashed outside, he strode into the cavern and shattered the ascension altar with one strike.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “A peerless genius! After tearing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of past masters and declared: ‘All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords rage true!'”
“All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords rage true!” Yang Hao murmured. “Truly, a man without equal.”
“In all the world, only I could face him.” Hunyuanzi spoke softly. “So I raised my sword and clashed with the Divine Dragon Sword. The cavern became our battlefield, while outside, the Dan Ding and righteous factions fought to the death. The battle lasted seven days.”
“The result?”
“He was wounded. I was defeated.” Hunyuanzi’s answer was expected. “The Dan Ding Sect was annihilated. My disciples, my masters, my brethren, my woman—all erased from this world. He thought he had wiped everything away. But I left a seed. My vengeance did not die with my body. That is why we stand here today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance.” Yang Hao surveyed his forces. The Dan Ding Sect’s elite stood ready, awaiting his command to storm Mount Yuanlao and topple the Council of Elders.
Meanwhile, the nine presiding elders were trapped in the imperial palace, ensnared by the Old Sword Saint and three thousand disciples, doomed to eternal confinement.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. The Council’s wings had been clipped. The Supreme One’s legacy had been squandered. Even the remaining presiding elders were trapped. Only three hundred elders remained on Mount Yuanlao.
But they were three hundred saints.
Yang Hao’s wrist turned slowly, his fist clenching tight. “The sword is still in hand!”
That was the signal.
All the shadows hidden in the forest advanced as one toward Mount Yuanlao.
The slaughter was destined in utter silence.
As Yang Hao’s army moved under cover of night, nearing the mountain’s defenses, the Council remained oblivious, its three hundred elders immersed in their spiritual cultivation. Without the Ten Sword Streams’ protection, their defenses were a shadow of their former selves.
But not all were blind. Su Hanjing’s heart trembled.
Gazing through the ten-meter-high skylight, he saw birds flit across the artificial moon. A shiver ran down his spine.
He stood abruptly, his gaze like a cold blade sweeping the chamber, startling most of the elders from their meditation.
“Su Hanjing! What are you doing?” an elder snapped. Daily cultivation was mandatory—no exceptions.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair. Normally unremarkable, today, his blood burned. He sensed that decades of cultivation, the Council’s dull existence—all of it was ending. His life was meant to blaze today.
“Enemies approach,” Su Hanjing said, breath quickening. “Many are coming.”
“Nonsense!” another elder barked. “The Four Guardian Sword Sects—” He stopped, remembering the Ten Sword Streams’ recent betrayal. Mount Yuanlao stood alone.
“This is Mount Yuanlao! Who would dare?!” an elder scoffed. Even without the presiding elders, hierarchy ruled here.
But Su Hanjing’s fire could not be quenched. His moment had come.
Without another word, he thrust a palm forward, shattering the wooden windows before the hall.
The night wind rushed in, but what chilled the elders to the bone was the sight below.
Thousands of white cloaks surged up the mountain’s sole path. Under the artificial moon’s glow, they made no effort to conceal themselves. To them, the white cloaks symbolized glory.
The mark of the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Undying War God.
The honor of never having tasted defeat.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders jolted upright in horror. “The Dan Ding Sect dares to attack!”
Their fury was impotent. The Dan Ding forces swarmed like a tide. Yang Hao had staked everything on this assault.
They were already here. What now?
That was the problem. The Council had always relied on hierarchy. Decisions and leadership fell to the presiding elders. The rest merely cultivated, acting only on orders.
But the presiding elders were gone. Leaderless, the remaining elders hesitated, unsure who should take charge.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice was quiet, yet all eyes turned to him. “The nine presiding elders went to assassinate the emperor. They walked into a trap. Yang Hao planned this—to destroy the Council today.”
“What do we do?”
“Only one path remains.” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We stand alone.”
Murmurs erupted.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! We’ve seen his power. Even the presiding elders fell to him. Elder Tiance hasn’t recovered. How can we face him?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Dan Ding Sword Sect is formidable. We should retreat—live to fight another day.”
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was calm now, devoid of the usual hatred. “I defeated the four leaders of the righteous sects, and the masters and disciples of the Dan Ding Sect knelt before me. Your master watched me from afar at the entrance of the sect. That was the most glorious moment of my life—the honor of thousands of years of the Dan Ding Sect rested on my shoulders.” Hunyuanzi’s voice suddenly turned chilling. “But I looked up and saw the silver moon stained with blood, glowing red. That man stood in the heart of the moon, with twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“What happened next?”
“I knew a great calamity was coming. Ignoring the protests of others, I stopped my disciples from pursuing the defeated righteous forces and instead gathered all the disciples, retreating hundreds of miles back to the main sect’s cave dwelling on Copper Cauldron Mountain.” Hunyuanzi gave a dry laugh. “I had predicted the process correctly, but not the outcome. Just as all the disciples of the Dan Ding Sect returned to the cave dwelling, the divine artifacts unleashed their great might. It was like a heavenly tribulation—blazing beams of multicolored light descended. These beams carried divine power, and with them, entire mountains were reduced to dust. These were no ordinary mountains—they were the grand formation of the Nine Cauldrons, infused with the Dan Ding Sect’s thousand-year spiritual power, protected by countless barriers. Even if the Earth were destroyed and galaxies ceased to exist, these sacred mountains should have stood eternal. Yet under the bombardment of the divine artifacts, eight of the nine mountains were obliterated, leaving not even a trace of smoke or dust.”
“Hmph.” Yang Hao sighed deeply. Looking around, the surroundings of Copper Cauldron Mountain no longer bore any trace of the grand formation of the Nine Cauldrons. Only the main peak, now renamed Yuanlao Mountain, still stood, looking strangely out of place.
“He led the righteous sects back to Copper Cauldron Mountain. The Dan Ding disciples fought fiercely, step by step, inch by inch. Along the several kilometers of road, every inch of soil was soaked in blood and flesh. In the end, he alone, with only one sword, broke into our cave dwelling.”
“What? One person?” Yang Hao could hardly believe his ears.
“One person! One sword! The incomparable Dragon Sword exploded into the air. That man actually let the disciples of the righteous and Dan Ding Sects fight on the mountain while he alone charged into the cave dwelling, slicing through the ascension altar of the former sect leader with a single strike.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly, his voice filled with grief. “A genius beyond compare! After piercing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of generations of sect leaders and declared: ‘All gods and immortals are illusions; only our swords are wild and free!'”
“All gods and immortals are illusions; only our swords are wild and free!” Yang Hao murmured to himself. “Indeed, that was a supreme figure.”
“There is none in the world who could match him except me,” Hunyuanzi said calmly. “So I took up my sword and clashed with the Dragon Sword. Inside the cave dwelling, it was my battlefield with him, while outside, it was the life-and-death battle between the Dan Ding Sect and the righteous sects. That battle lasted seven full days.”
“And the result?”
“He was wounded; I was defeated.” Hunyuanzi’s answer was one long expected. “The Dan Ding Sect was utterly destroyed. My disciples, my masters, my peers, my beloved—all were erased from this world. That man thought he had wiped us all out, but I left behind a seed. After my physical form was shed, my heart for vengeance never died, which is why we are here today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance,” Yang Hao said, looking around. The great experts of the Dan Ding Sect were already ready, waiting only for his command to charge up Yuanlao Mountain and crush the Yuanlao Council.
And the nine executive elders were now in the palace, awaiting their fate, trapped within a barrier by the old sword saint and three thousand disciples, never to escape.
“Mount Yuanshan…” Hunyuanzi awoke. Even at the most critical moment of his secluded cultivation, he had to wake.
Tonight, beneath the high, moon-washed sky, was the culmination of his thousand-year vendetta. Time and again, he had dreamed of returning here, stepping once more onto the soil of his past, and subjecting the Supreme One to a thousand cuts.
And today, Hunyuanzi, coiled within Yang Hao’s dantian, trembled with anticipation.
Around them, an overwhelming aura of slaughter filled the air. The Dan Ding Sect’s eleven sword divisions—tens of thousands of disciples—stood silently beneath the night sky, their blades reflecting the silver moonlight, illuminating the forest at the mountain’s base.
Today, Yang Hao had brought the full might of the Dan Ding Sect. He was staking everything—his life, the fate of his sect, the lives of thousands—on this one gamble. Victory was the only option. Defeat meant death.
On this very night, a millennium after the fall of Hunyuanzi’s Dan Ding Sect, Yang Hao led the new Dan Ding Sect back to this mountain, ready to raze the Council of Elders to the ground.
“Mount Tonglu,” Yang Hao declared. “From today onward, this mountain’s name shall be restored.”
“Mount Tonglu was once the sacred abode of the Dan Ding Dual Cultivation Sect,” Hunyuanzi’s voice echoed distantly. “For generations, our predecessors poured their hearts into linking nine mountains across a radius of ten thousand zhang, forming the ‘Nine Cauldrons of Tonglu’—a grand mountain array so formidable that even the combined forces of the righteous sects could never breach it.”
“Then how was it broken in the end?” Yang Hao asked.
“Hah!” Hunyuanzi sighed, a mix of sorrow and nostalgia. “Because *he* appeared. That man… a peerless genius. For millennia, the struggle between righteousness and evil had been evenly matched, neither side gaining the upper hand. But with his arrival, the world changed. He alone reshaped the heavens and the earth—something no one else had ever achieved. No matter how much I pondered, I never imagined he would orchestrate such a grand scheme.”
“The Supreme One. A man of legend.” Yang Hao nodded. Even bearing the deep hatred of his sect, he couldn’t deny that the Supreme One was the greatest figure in the known world—second only to the Creator God. No one else had ever forged an order entirely his own. With power barely touching the divine realm, he had subdued all the godly races, quelling the wars of the cosmos. Such courage and wisdom made him unparalleled in history.
“You’ve never seen him. You can’t fathom what kind of man he was.” Hunyuanzi paused, gathering strength to continue. “The Nine Cauldrons of Tonglu—such an intricate, unfathomable formation. Even at the height of their power, the righteous sects never breached its core.”
“How did the Supreme One do it?”
“He ascended to leadership of the righteous factions in his twenties. Upon taking power, he halted their century-long assault on the Dan Ding Sect. Instead, he united the righteous forces and spent a full decade scouring the cosmos for the divine artifacts left by the Creator God.”
“Divine artifacts?” Yang Hao was stunned.
“It was the heavens’ will to destroy the Dan Ding Sect. Of the thirty divine artifacts, he found twelve. With their overwhelming power, he marshaled the righteous factions and launched an all-out assault.” Hunyuanzi’s voice grew weary. “Those were the days when the previous Dan Ding Sect leader had ascended to immortality. The sect was leaderless, fractured into factions. I was just twenty-six years old.”
Yang Hao fell silent, his heart awash with sorrow. A thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. The young man of twenty-six was now a lonely spirit of a millennium.
“At twenty-six, I was recognized by the previous sect leader as the new leader of the Dan Ding Sect. But I was young and inexperienced. The sect was divided, with countless disciples loyal to their own masters. None would submit to me.”
A cold wind howled, chilling Yang Hao to the bone. Though he hadn’t witnessed the events of a thousand years ago, the night’s oppressive weight felt unchanged.
“Even when the righteous factions stormed the Nine Cauldrons of Tonglu, the various masters fought independently, refusing to seek aid from the Dan Ding Sect’s core. They thought it was just another probing attack—a chance to prove their strength before me.” Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “They were wrong. The righteous factions had prepared for a decade, armed with divine artifacts. This was no mere skirmish. Over a thousand righteous cultivators descended, their divine weapons filling the skies. They attacked from four directions, swiftly capturing two of our mountains.”
The blood-soaked battle remained vivid in Hunyuanzi’s memory:
“Only then did the factions realize the true threat. They sent signal swords to alert me in the core sanctuary. As the sun set in a bloody hue, I grasped the sect leader’s sword and led a counterattack. At Mount Qian Four, I clashed with four righteous leaders. For all their vaunted strength, they were no match for my blade. By moonrise, we had reclaimed our lost mountains.”
Though the casualties were heavy, the righteous offensive was pushed to the brink. Blood cascaded down the cliffs like waterfalls. A century’s worth of elite cultivators perished in a single night.”
“What about the Supreme One?” Yang Hao asked, sensing the crux of the matter. The righteous leader had been conspicuously absent.
“He alone changed everything.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was eerily calm, devoid of its usual hatred. “After I repelled the four righteous leaders, the Dan Ding masters and disciples knelt before me. Your master’s wife watched from the sanctuary entrance. It was the pinnacle of my life—the culmination of millennia of the Dan Ding Sect’s glory.” His tone shifted abruptly. “But when I looked up, the silver moon had turned blood-red. And there he stood, at its heart, twelve divine artifacts floating around him.”
“And then?”
“I knew catastrophe loomed. Ignoring protests, I halted pursuit of the retreating righteous forces and summoned all disciples back to the core sanctuary.” Hunyuanzi’s laughter was dry. “I guessed the process, but not the outcome. The moment our forces withdrew, the divine artifacts’ power descended like an apocalyptic tribulation. Blinding, multicolored light rained down—each beam carrying divine might, reducing mountains to dust. These weren’t ordinary peaks. They were the Nine Cauldrons of Tonglu, infused with millennia of spiritual energy and countless protective barriers. Even if the world ended, they should have stood unshaken. Yet under the divine artifacts’ assault, eight mountains were obliterated without a trace.”
“Ah.” Yang Hao sighed, surveying the surroundings. The once-mighty “Nine Cauldrons of Tonglu” formation was long gone. Only the main peak—renamed Mount Yuanshan—remained, standing stark and solitary.
“He led the righteous factions back to Mount Tonglu. The Dan Ding disciples fought inch by inch, turning every step into a bloodbath. And in the end, he alone—with a single sword—pierced the sanctuary.”
“Alone?” Yang Hao couldn’t believe his ears.
“One man. One sword. The unimaginable Divine Dragon Sword exploded in the sky. While the righteous and Dan Ding forces clashed outside, he stormed the sanctuary and shattered the previous leader’s ascension altar with a single strike.”
Hunyuanzi laughed bitterly. “A peerless genius! Truly peerless! After tearing the ascension banner, he stood atop the statues of past masters and declared: ‘All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords are real!’”
“‘All gods and immortals are but illusions—only our swords are real!’” Yang Hao murmured. “Indeed, he was a man without equal.”
“In all the world, only I could face him in battle.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was calm. “So I raised my sword and clashed with the Divine Dragon Sword. The sanctuary became our battlefield, while outside, the Dan Ding Sect and the righteous factions fought to the death. That battle lasted seven days.”
“And the outcome?”
“He was wounded. I was defeated.” Hunyuanzi’s answer was expected. “The Dan Ding Sect was annihilated. My disciples, my masters, my comrades, my woman—all erased from this world. He thought he had wiped everything away. But I left behind a seed. Even in death, my vengeance lived. And so we have today.”
“Today is the day of vengeance.” Yang Hao glanced around. The Dan Ding Sect’s top experts stood ready, awaiting his command to storm Mount Yuanshan and topple the Council of Elders.
Meanwhile, the nine presiding elders were trapped in the imperial palace, ensnared by the old Sword Saint and three thousand disciples, doomed to eternal confinement.
This was an unprecedented opportunity. The Council’s wings had been clipped. The Supreme One’s legacy had been squandered. Even the remaining presiding elders were trapped. On Mount Yuanshan, only three hundred elders remained.
But those were three hundred *Saints*.
Yang Hao’s wrist turned slowly, his fist clenching tight. “The sword is still in hand!”
That was the command.
All the shadows hidden in the forest surged toward Mount Yuanshan.
The slaughter was destined in utter silence.
As Yang Hao’s forces advanced under cover of night, nearing the mountain’s defenses, the Council remained oblivious, sealed in its ivory tower. The three hundred elders meditated as usual, their defenses weakened without the Ten Sword Streams’ protection.
But not all were blind. Su Hanjing’s heart trembled.
When he looked up through the ten-meter-high skylight and saw birds flitting past the artificial moon, a chill ran down his spine.
He stood abruptly, his gaze like a cold blade sweeping the room, startling most of the three hundred elders from their meditation.
“Su Hanjing? What are you doing?” an elder snapped. Daily meditation was mandatory—no exceptions.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair. Normally unremarkable, today, his blood burned. He sensed it—the decades of meditation, the Council’s dull existence—all ending now. His life was meant to blaze today.
“Enemies are coming,” Su Hanjing said, his breath quick. “Many of them.”
“Nonsense!” another elder barked. “The Four Guardian Sword Sects—” He stopped mid-sentence, remembering the Ten Sword Streams had rebelled days ago. Mount Yuanshan stood alone.
“This is Mount Yuanshan! Who would dare?!” an elder scoffed. Even without the presiding elders, hierarchy ruled here.
But Su Hanjing’s fire was lit. He knew his moment had come.
Without a word, he thrust a palm forward, shattering the wooden windows before the hall.
The night wind rushed in, but what chilled the elders to the bone was the sight below.
Thousands of white cloaks surged up the mountain’s sole path. Under the artificial moon’s glow, they made no effort to hide. To them, the white cloaks symbolized glory—the undefeated honor of the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Undying War God.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders recoiled in horror. “The Dan Ding Sect is attacking!”
Their fury was impotent. The Dan Ding forces swarmed like a tide. Yang Hao had staked everything on this assault.
They were already here. The question was—what now?
But the elders were paralyzed. The Council’s hierarchy was rigid. Decisions belonged to the presiding elders. The rest merely meditated, acting only on orders.
Now, with the presiding elders gone, no one knew who should lead.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice was soft, yet all eyes turned to him. “The nine presiding elders went to assassinate the emperor. They walked into a trap. Yang Hao planned this—to destroy the Council today.”
“What do we do?”
“Only one path remains.” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We fight—on our own.”
Murmurs erupted.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! Even the presiding elders fell to him. How can we face him?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Dan Ding Sword Sect is formidable. We should retreat—live to fight another day.”
But those three hundred were all at the Saint-level.
Yang Hao slowly and firmly turned his wrist, clenching his fist tightly. “The sword is still in my hand!”
That was the command.
All the shadows hidden in the woods simultaneously advanced toward Yuanlao Mountain.
The massacre was destined to unfold in eerie silence.
Just as Yang Hao’s army moved through the night, about to trigger Yuanlao Mountain’s defenses,
the entire Yuanlao Council still remained sealed like an ivory tower. The three hundred elders were performing their spiritual cultivation as usual. Without the protection of the Ten Sword Streams, the Yuanlao Council’s defenses were now incomparable to what they once were.
But not everyone was oblivious. At least Su Hanjing felt a shiver in his heart.
As he lifted his gaze, his eyes passing through the ten-meter-high skylight of the hall, he saw a bird flying past the artificial moon. Su Hanjing couldn’t help but shudder involuntarily.
He abruptly stood up, his gaze slicing through the room like a cold blade, startling most of the three hundred elders from their cultivation.
“Su Hanjing, what are you doing?” an elder scolded. Daily cultivation was a sacred duty for the elders, not to be interrupted.
Su Hanjing was among the younger elders, appearing no older than forty, with long black hair cascading down his back. In the past, he had been an ordinary, unremarkable elder. But tonight, a fire burned within him. He felt as if the decades of quiet cultivation and the dull, monotonous life of the Yuanlao Council were about to end. His life had been waiting for this very moment to ignite.
“They’re coming,” Su Hanjing said, his breath quick with urgency. “Many of them—they’re coming to kill us.”
“Nonsense!” an elder shouted. “The Four Guardian Sword Sects—”
But the words died halfway. He had just remembered—the Ten Sword Streams had betrayed them a few days ago. Now, Yuanlao Mountain was nothing but an isolated peak.
“This is Yuanlao Mountain! Who dares to make trouble?!” an elderly elder still scoffed. Even without the executive elders, the hierarchy still existed within the courtyard.
But the fire in Su Hanjing’s heart was already roaring. He knew that after so many years of mediocrity, his moment had finally come.
He said nothing more, only extending his palm outward. Before the gathered elders, he shattered the two wooden shutters in front of the main hall with a single strike.
The cold night wind rushed in with a chill, but what truly sent a shiver down their spines was the sight that met their eyes from the window—
Thousands upon thousands of white cloaks were surging down the only path leading up Yuanlao Mountain. Under the glow of the artificial moon, these white cloaks made no attempt to hide. Perhaps in their eyes, these white cloaks were symbols of their pride.
They were the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the symbol of the Undying War God.
The embodiment of an undefeated glory.
“Yang Hao!!” The elders were stunned, rising to their feet in alarm. “Damn it! The Dan Ding Sect has really come to attack!”
The elders’ faces burned with fury, but their anger could not turn into real power. Seeing the Dan Ding Sect’s forces swarming the mountain like a tidal wave, it was easy to imagine that Yang Hao had come with everything he had, ready for one final gamble.
They had already arrived. The question was, what to do now?
But this was precisely where the elders were helpless. In the Yuanlao Council, hierarchy had always been strict. Real decisions and leadership came from the executive elders. Ordinary elders were only responsible for their own cultivation. They would only act when the executive elders gave orders.
But now, all the executive elders were gone. With no leaders among the ordinary elders, they didn’t know who should take command.
Su Hanjing stepped forward. His voice was not loud, but it drew the attention of every elder.
“The Nine Executives went to assassinate the emperor today. They must have fallen into a trap. Yang Hao has already laid his plans and is determined to wipe out the Yuanlao Council today.”
“What do we do then?”
“There is only one path left,” Su Hanjing’s eyes gleamed like stars. “We must rely on ourselves.”
This statement stirred murmurs and discussions.
“That’s Yang Hao!” someone whispered fearfully. “The Undying War God! We’ve all seen how powerful he is. Even the executives lost to him. Tiance Elder still hasn’t recovered. How can we possibly stand against him?”
“Yang Hao is undefeated in the empire. His Dan Ding Sword Sect has long been established. Now he’s coming with full force. We should retreat first. As long as the green mountains remain, there will always be firewood.”
For a moment, the idea of retreating gained the upper hand.
But then, Su Hanzhi strode forward with determined steps toward the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “So cowardly—how dare you call yourselves elders, and how dare you remain on Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell silent, staring at Su Hanzhi, who was usually quiet and unnoticeable, unsure why he had become so fiery today.
Yet Su Hanzhi spoke a sentence he knew would leave no room for retreat—not even the Elders or the Executive Elders would dare to step back after hearing it.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell silent, staring dumbfounded at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming. They couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Council exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared to speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Moreover, most of them had faced the Alchemy Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and a few other masters, the elders had been crushed in mere moments. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Alchemy Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Council.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders joined together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been silent in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the entire Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tian Zhi, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Alchemy Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took teams to the Alchemy Cave, where guarding the Supreme One’s body was now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain their confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single high-ranking elder required dozens of ordinary elders to match. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue. And then there was He De, the legendary figure of the Alchemy Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the entire Elder Council.
“Yang Hao is not a reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he is attacking Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Alchemy Sect alone cannot take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze turning toward the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to trap us in a defensive position within the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader had been born—one they all trusted.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Alchemy Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, members of the Alchemy Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, signaling the troops to halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, merely holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already overwhelmed, struggling to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with terrifying efficiency.
A hundred Saint-level experts against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. And these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had taken the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Corps members.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies and wounded tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Alchemy Sect’s masters joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya, all legendary fighters, fighting alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread filling him. Tonight’s battle had seemed certain—he had deployed his best forces and lured away the high-ranking elders. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But things were different now. With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this fight would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
Tonight’s battle, win or lose, would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a plan, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—rare and regulated even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council could forge them.
Their cultivation methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but the power was undeniable.
A single flying sword could take a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level experts, they were nearly unbeatable.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was used to such situations. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he’d walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of the three-part feast Su Hanjing had prepared.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was legendary: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their leader meant victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Tonight was no exception. No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, he couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level attacks.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So, he reacted.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Alchemy Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon and forming an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrants!”—the pinnacle of the Alchemy Sect’s defensive sword techniques. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders. Their swords had been honed for decades—their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter, but at critical moments, they could change everything.
The ice wall shattered instantly under the swords’ assault, the thick ice evaporating into mist.
It happened in a blink.
But Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he might not have wasted such effort on this ambush.
He De roared, swinging his axe.
An ordinary-looking axe—not a divine artifact, not the Dark Angel King’s Night Axe—yet history had granted it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s technique—and his axe’s name. The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, this half-sized old man wielding a two-meter-long giant axe radiated blinding light—light that could shake the universe.
A single swing halved the flying swords’ brilliance.
Words don’t always need to be many—sometimes just one sentence suffices.
This was more than enough.
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay on Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Sometimes, one sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of that sacred body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Many of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders disheartened, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in the universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council. This institution, built by the Supreme One, represented the pinnacle of cosmic power.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an indomitable aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his comrades. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must prepare for any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now more critical than ever. They could not afford another humiliation like the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained their confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. A single high-ranking elder in training required dozens of elders to match. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was without considering He De, the legendary figure of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
At every pivotal moment in history, someone steps forward to make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, which is why he has never tasted defeat. His attack on Elder Mountain means he has prepared thoroughly. The Dan Ding Sect alone could never conquer the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just the first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader had emerged, one they could trust without question.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Despite the Elder Council’s eerie calm, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters was a one-sided massacre. And these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Corps warriors.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, collapsing like logs down the mountainside.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He surged forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elite warriors—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—joined the fray like arrows loosed from a bow.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated seamlessly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident in this battle, deploying his full strength while luring the high-ranking elders away. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But something was different now.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
This conflict, regardless of outcome, would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were genuine flying swords—rare even among the galaxy’s nobility, tightly controlled by the Elder Council. Only the secluded elders could forge them, using ancient cultivation methods that preserved their lethal power.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against Saint-level opponents, they were nearly unbeatable.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to danger, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireball barrage and the elders’ aggressive charge—meant to blunt their momentum.
The second was a classic tactic: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, cutting off the head would cripple the body.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised—because they worked. Even the mightiest warriors often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even his legendary defenses couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level power, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light enveloped him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier—”Frost Quadrant,” the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique.
Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were deadlier.
His opponents weren’t weakened dragons but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The Frost Quadrant shattered instantly, its thick ice vaporized into mist under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he might have reconsidered this costly gambit.
He De roared, swinging his long axe—a seemingly ordinary weapon, yet one that bore an immortal name in history.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s technique, and his axe’s name.
The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, the dwarf and his two-meter-long weapon radiated brilliance enough to shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ onslaught.
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “With such cowardice, how dare you call yourselves elders? How dare you remain in this Elder Mountain?”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at the usually quiet and unassuming Su Hanjing, bewildered by his sudden fiery passion.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a sentence—one he knew would make every elder, no matter their rank, dare not retreat a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical form rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Words need not be many. Sometimes, one sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Council exist? It existed for the Supreme One. One could say the Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s physical form. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly enveloped Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite warriors had crushed them in an instant. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in the universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect became, they could never match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Council. This institution, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his long-time companions. They had remained silent in this ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Council awakened.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must guard against any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. Nodding, they led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took teams to the Dan Ding Cave, where guarding the Supreme One’s body was now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return with ease.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De within the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and defend until the nine chief elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every pivotal moment, there are those who make the right choices. Su Hanjing’s actions would save all the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. His attack on Elder Mountain today means he has prepared thoroughly. The Dan Ding Sect alone could never conquer the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze turning to the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to trap us in defensive positions within the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had been born.
“The Supreme One spent centuries building the Elder Council—not for us to cower like turtles!” Su Hanjing laughed wildly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, merely holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
From the Elder Council, hundreds of fireballs erupted, and countless magical artifacts rained down like a storm. This sudden assault came without warning, as if hurled from the pitch-black darkness.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of ranged attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there. From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the grand sword regiments.
Hundreds of Saint Realm experts against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. Worse, these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment warriors.
The three once-undefeated grand sword regiments crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their ranks collapsing like falling logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows to fight alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again. When Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly ordered:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated in perfect sync, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread and foreboding gripping him. He had been confident today, deploying his full elite force while luring away the chief elders. Past experience suggested these ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing at the elders’ forefront, Yang Hao knew today’s battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered? Such depths were not easily plumbed.
Today’s conflict, regardless of outcome, would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a plan, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were genuine flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire. Only the Elder Council’s secluded elders were permitted to forge them. Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but both stemmed from ancient cultivation techniques, ensuring their lethality remained intact.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint Realm experts, victory was effortless. Now, a hundred flying swords—launched in ambush—targeted one man.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though misfortune followed him like a shadow, Yang Hao was used to such predicaments. The moment he heard the swords, he knew Su Hanjing had lured him into a trap.
Yang Hao was right. This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part feast.
The first course had been the fireballs and ranged assault, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was legendary, known as “Slaying the Leader Amidst Ten Thousand Troops!” The idea was simple: no matter how strong or numerous the enemy, killing their leader guaranteed victory.
Thus, Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised—precisely because they worked. Those deemed invincible often fell to such tactics.
Today was no exception. No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even his legendary defenses—his unbreakable skin—couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint Realm strikes.
This ambush wasn’t meant to kill a man—it was meant to slay a god.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So he reacted.
He tossed a pill into his mouth.
That single action saved Yang Hao—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to erect an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrants!”—the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive sword technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents now were not restrained divine dragons but a hundred Saint Realm elders. Their swords, honed for decades, carried unimaginable power.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers might not always matter, but at critical moments, they could change everything.
The Frozen Quadrants’ ice wall shattered on contact, its thick, unyielding ice reduced to vapor in an instant.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile ambush.
He De roared, swinging his great axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon—no divine artifact, no Dark Angel King’s Night Axe. Yet history had bestowed upon it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s axe technique—and the axe itself. The weapon seemed mundane, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, this dwarf of a man wielding a two-meter-long giant axe radiated brilliance enough to shake the cosmos.
A single swing extinguished half the flying swords’ glow.
For a moment, the argument to retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing stomped over to the elders and pointed at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at the usually quiet and unassuming Su Hanjing, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a sentence that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where do you think you can retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Council exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s physical form. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Danding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite fighters had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited and devoid of confidence.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Danding Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council. This institution, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast cosmos.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Council awakened.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Danding Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Danding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De of the Danding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine chief elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. His attack on Elder Mountain today means he has prepared thoroughly. The Danding Sect alone could never take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to trap us in defensive positions within the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had emerged.
“The Supreme One did not build the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Danding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like a shackle, trapping those within it with no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, members of the Danding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, Yang Hao felt an inexplicable unease.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, merely holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react or retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, cutting through the grand sword regiments with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level experts against mere sword masters? It was effortless slaughter.
And these hundred elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment members.
The three once-invincible grand sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ suicidal assault, their ranks collapsing like falling timber.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Danding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Retreat!”
The hundred elders withdrew instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full might and luring the chief elders away. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But this was different.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
Today’s battle, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a counter, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were genuine flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council could forge them. Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undiminished.
A single flying sword could take a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level experts, it was an easy victory.
Now, a hundred flying swords were targeting one man in a sneak attack.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to such predicaments, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of the three-part feast Su Hanjing had prepared.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged assault, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was legendary: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops.”
No matter how strong the enemy, killing their leader meant victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait for this ambush.
Sneak attacks were despised—because they worked.
Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords.
No matter how tough his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he reacted.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Danding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrants!”
A top-tier defensive sword technique of the Danding Sect, this ice wall had once withstood four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents were not restrained divine dragons but a hundred Saint-level elders. Their flying swords, honed for decades, carried immense power.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers mattered.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its thick, sturdy ice reduced to vapor under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he might not have wasted effort on this futile ambush.
He De roared, swinging his long axe.
An ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed, yet history had granted it a name—
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s axe technique bore the same name.
Though the axe seemed mundane, in He De’s hands, it shone with a brilliance that could shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ radiance.
Now, no one dared speak lightly of retreat. Yet, as the atmosphere grew increasingly hostile and the sense of being attacked enveloped Elder Mountain, the elders felt a sensation they had never experienced before. Moreover, many among them had fought against the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where they were routed instantly by Hed leading a few experts. Even Yang Hao alone required eight executives to subdue.
Such overwhelming dominance left the three hundred elders pale and disheartened.
For a moment, the argument to retreat gained the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay on this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell silent, staring dumbfounded at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, unsure why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, one sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Assembly exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Assembly—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Danding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before—where He De and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly, and Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited and broken.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Assembly centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Assembly. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Danding Sect became, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Assembly. This assembly, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of strength in the vast cosmos.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the Elder Assembly’s spirit.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Danding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Danding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance, lest they repeat the mistake of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Assembly’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders regained their confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Assembly, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue—and that was without considering He De, the legendary figure of the Danding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Assembly and hold out until the nine chief elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Assembly itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he rarely fails. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Danding Sect alone cannot conquer the Elder Assembly—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move.” Su Hanjing’s gaze turned to the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to lure us into defending within the Elder Assembly.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were convinced. A leader had emerged, one they all trusted.
“The Supreme One did not build the Elder Assembly over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack. We charge out and fight the Danding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them.”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, trapping those within it with no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, the Danding Sword Sect and the Dragon Protector Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Assembly seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Assembly.
A deafening explosion shook the night.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless artifacts rained down from the Elder Assembly—an ambush without warning, as if hurled from the darkness itself.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were left gasping for breath.
But it wasn’t over.
From the Elder Assembly, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the swordmasters.
A hundred Saint-level experts against mere swordmasters was a one-sided massacre. Worse, the elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed several heads from the Dragon Protector Sword Corps.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their fallen bodies tumbling down the mountain like logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He lunged forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Danding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly ordered: “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated seamlessly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying all his elite forces and luring away the chief elders. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But something was different.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
Today’s fight, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke—these were real flying swords. In the Galactic Empire, while nobles could practice martial arts, flying swords were strictly controlled.
Only the secluded elders of the Elder Assembly could forge them. Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undiminished—capable of beheading enemies from miles away.
A single flying sword could defeat a Saint-level expert. Now, a hundred were aimed at one man.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to danger, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireball barrage and the elders’ aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second strike was legendary: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, cutting off the head would cripple the body.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised—because they worked. Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how fast Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That act saved him—and the Danding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall.
“Frozen Quadrant!”—the pinnacle of the Danding Sect’s defensive techniques. Once, this wall had withstood four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t shackled dragons—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its remnants evaporating into mist.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile assault.
He De roared, swinging his axe.
An ordinary-looking axe—not a divine artifact nor the Dark Angel King’s Night Axe—yet history had granted it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s technique—and his axe’s name. Though plain, in his hands, the dwarf and his two-meter axe radiated brilliance enough to shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ assault.
All eyes turned to Su Hanzhi.
This once ordinary man had become a true warrior.
Su Hanzhi roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
A silence enveloped the surroundings, as if everyone was gathering their energy, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanzhi stamped his foot and roared again, “The Master grants me strength!!”
At this moment, the three hundred elders seemed truly awakened.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell silent, staring dumbfounded at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, unsure why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Assembly exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Assembly—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, and it must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared to speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before, where He De and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Assembly centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared: “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped his foot and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Assembly. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Assembly. This assembly, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their creation, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders clasped together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been silent for too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Assembly awakened.
“Elders Tian Zhi, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another mistake like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Assembly’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Assembly, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single high-ranking elder required dozens of ordinary elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Assembly and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the entire Elder Assembly.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he dares to attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone could never take the Elder Assembly—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze turning toward the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions within the Elder Assembly.”
“What should we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had been born.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Assembly over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack. We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them.”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Assembly seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front of the column raised a hand, signaling the troops to halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, simply raising three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Assembly.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
From the Elder Assembly, hundreds of fireballs erupted, and countless magical artifacts rained down like a storm. The sudden assault came without warning, as if hurled from the darkness itself.
The three grand sword regiments at the front had no time to react—no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of ranged attacks, they were already struggling to breathe under the relentless barrage.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Assembly, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the grand sword regiments.
A hundred Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. Worse, these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment warriors.
The three grand sword regiments, once undefeated in battle, crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault. Bodies and wounded men tumbled down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elite warriors joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread filling his heart. He had been confident in this battle, deploying all his elite forces while luring the high-ranking elders away. From past experience, the ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But things were different now. With Su Hanjing leading them, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered? These were not things easily understood.
No matter the outcome, this battle would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a plan, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like flashes of light, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire.
Only the secluded elders of the Elder Assembly could forge them. Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but both stemmed from ancient immortal cultivation techniques, so their power was undiminished.
A single flying sword could take a head from a thousand miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, victory was effortless. Now, a hundred flying swords were hurtling toward one man in a coordinated sneak attack.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though misfortune followed him like a shadow, Yang Hao was used to it by now. The moment he heard the whistling, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
He was right—this was the second course of the three-part feast Su Hanjing had prepared.
The first course had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge down the mountain—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was a famed tactic: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops!” The idea was simple—no matter how strong or numerous the enemy, killing their leader ensured victory.
Thus, Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve for this ambush.
Sneak attacks were despised—precisely because they were so effective. Many who were otherwise invincible had fallen to them.
Today was no exception. No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how much “super lubricant” he applied to his feet, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even if his “Ice-Steel Skin” made him impervious to blades, it couldn’t withstand the combined assault of a hundred Saint-level warriors.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He popped a pill into his mouth.
That single action saved Yang Hao—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Barrier!”—the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive sword technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block the attacks of four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents now were not restrained divine dragons but a hundred Saint-level elders. Their flying swords had been cultivated for decades—their power was undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them. Quantity might not always matter, but at critical moments, it could change everything.
The Frozen Barrier shattered on contact. The thick, unyielding ice was obliterated under the flying swords’ assault, leaving only wisps of vapor.
All this happened in the blink of an eye.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces up his sleeve. Had Su Hanjing known, he might not have wasted energy on this futile assault.
He De roared, swinging his massive axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon—not a divine artifact nor the Dark Angel King’s Night Axe. Yet history had granted it an immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s axe technique—and the name of his weapon. Though plain as common iron, in He De’s hands, the dwarf and his two-meter-long axe radiated brilliance enough to shake the cosmos.
A single swing halved the flying swords’ glow.
They were invincible; since their inception, they had been undefeated.
The three hundred elders joined hands, their blood surging, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose—to serve the Supreme One. He was their everything, their unshakable devotion. His sacred body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability. Many of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders demoralized, their confidence shattered.
“For centuries, the Supreme One built this Elder Council, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within these halls. The Elder Council represented the pinnacle of cosmic power, forged by the Supreme One himself.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their creation, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed his power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and indomitable spirit.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had lingered too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just his rebirth—it was the revival of the Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, take ten men each and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elder leaders, without questioning Su Hanjing’s authority, nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s sacred body—a task now more crucial than ever. They could not afford another humiliation like the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the grand hall of the Elder Council—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained their confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment spread quickly. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even a single high-ranking elder required dozens of them to match in training. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was without considering He De, the legendary figure of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, someone steps forward to make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he rarely fails. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot conquer the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication in Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This vanguard is just a test—to lure us into defensive positions within the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader had emerged, one they could trust without question.
“The Supreme One did not build this Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they send, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao found himself in unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, trapping those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Below, the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Despite the Elder Council’s eerie calm, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, simply holding up three fingers. “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already overwhelmed, struggling to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with terrifying efficiency.
A hundred Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters was a one-sided massacre. Worse, these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed several heads from the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies tumbling down the mountainside like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elite warriors—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—joined the fray, fighting alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly commanded, “Retreat!”
The hundred elders withdrew instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full strength while the high-ranking elders were absent. From past experience, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But something was different now.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets and talents beyond his understanding.
No matter the outcome, this would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were real flying swords—rare, high-level weapons strictly controlled in the galaxy. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council were permitted to forge them. Their techniques differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undeniable.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were nearly unbeatable.
Now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to danger, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireball barrage and the reckless charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second strike was legendary: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander ensured victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest warriors often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how tough his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So, he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier—”Frost Quadrant,” the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Once, it had withstood four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t weakened dragons—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Quantity sometimes mattered little—but at critical moments, it changed everything.
The Frost Quadrant shattered instantly, its thick ice vaporized under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more lifelines.
Had Su Hanjing known, he might never have wasted energy on this futile strike.
He De roared, swinging his axe—a seemingly ordinary weapon, yet one that bore an immortal name in history.
“Gold-Sundering Strike!”
The axe was plain, but in He De’s hands, it shone with blinding light, shaking the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ assault.
Tears filled Su Hanzhi’s eyes as he looked at his longtime companions. They had been dormant in this ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not only Su Hanzhi’s rebirth, but also the revival of the Senate’s spirit.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten people and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanzhi commanded steadily. “Although the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao’s forces alone won’t be able to overwhelm us. We must be wary of other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanzhi’s command authority. They nodded and went to deploy their forces.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders, how dare you stay in this Elder Mountain if you’re so cowardly!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unremarkable, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to take a single step back.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was enough.
The Elder Council existed for one reason alone—for the Supreme One. He was their everything, their unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were his guardians. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been crushed in an instant. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One founded the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped his foot and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council.
They were undefeated. From the day of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders clasped together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed his power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an indomitable aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had remained silent for too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the Elder Council’s spirit was reborn.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, take ten men each and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another humiliation like the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single high-ranking elder required dozens of ordinary elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was without considering He De, the legendary figure of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to fortify the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected once more, this time with even greater resolve.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, and he rarely fails. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just the first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced. A leader had emerged, one they could trust without question.
“The Supreme One did not build the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only endure. After the first wave of attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, cutting through the grand sword regiments with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere sword masters? It was effortless.
And these hundred elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment warriors.
The three once-invincible grand sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their ranks collapsing like falling timber.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, could not stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elite warriors joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident in this battle, deploying all his elite forces and luring away the high-ranking elders.
But something was different.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this fight would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
This battle, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire. Only the Elder Council’s secluded elders were permitted to forge them.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, it was an overwhelming advantage.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was no stranger to such situations. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to break their momentum.
This second course was a classic tactic: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander ensured victory.
Thus, Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised—precisely because they worked.
Even the mightiest warriors often fell to surprise attacks.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he could not outrun flying swords.
No matter how strong his Ice Muscle Iron Balm, no matter how impenetrable his defenses, he could not withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This was not just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single action saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the Sword Pill dissolved within him, a blue light surged around his body, resonating with Shadow Moon and forming an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrants!”
This was the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive sword technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents were not weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed over decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers mattered.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its thick, sturdy ice reduced to vapor under the swords’ assault.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces up his sleeve.
Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile ambush.
He De roared, his long axe flashing.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed.
Yet history had granted it a name—an immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
This was He De’s axe technique—and the name of his weapon.
Though plain, in He De’s hands, it shone with a brilliance that could shake the cosmos.
A single swing halved the flying swords’ radiance.
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, unsure why he was suddenly so impassioned today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where do you think you can retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Council exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and a few other masters, the elders had been swiftly defeated. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had now become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped his foot and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Council. This institution, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders joined together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow cultivators. They had remained silent in this ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Council awakened.
“Elders Tian Zhi, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain their confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine chief elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every pivotal moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot conquer the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze turning toward the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had emerged.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, members of the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, signaling the troops to halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, simply raising three fingers. “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy silhouette of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush with no warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already overwhelmed, struggling to catch their breath.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the swordmasters.
Hundreds of Saint-level experts against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. Worse, these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping with blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Corps members.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies and wounded tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s masters joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing smirked.
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full elite force while luring the chief elders away. Based on past encounters, the ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But this was different.
With Su Hanjing standing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
Today’s battle, whether won or lost, would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a countermeasure, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council were permitted to forge them.
Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but the ancient techniques remained, preserving their devastating power.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level experts, victory was effortless.
Now, a hundred flying swords—launched in ambush—were aimed at one man.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to such predicaments, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap the moment he heard the swords.
He was right.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part feast.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was legendary—”Slaying the Leader Amidst Ten Thousand Troops!” The idea was simple: no matter how strong the enemy, killing their leader guaranteed victory.
Thus, Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve for this very strike.
Ambushes were despised—precisely because they worked.
Even the mightiest, the unkillable, often fell to a well-planned sneak attack.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even if his “Ice-Steel Skin” could block blades, it couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This ambush wasn’t meant to kill a man—it was meant to slay a god.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single action saved Yang Hao—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Barrier!”
This was the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive sword technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were deadlier.
Yang Hao’s opponents now were not restrained divine dragons but a hundred Saint-level elders. Their swords, honed for decades, carried unimaginable power.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The Frozen Barrier shattered instantly. The thick ice vanished without a trace, leaving only wisps of vapor.
All this happened in the blink of an eye.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted effort on this doomed ambush.
He De roared, swinging his massive axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon—no divine artifact, no cursed blade of the Dark Angel King. Yet history had granted it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Splitting Cleave!”
This was He De’s technique—and his axe’s name.
The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, this dwarf of a man wielding a two-meter-long giant’s weapon radiated blinding light—light that could shake the cosmos.
A single swing extinguished half the flying swords’ glow.
Perhaps their minds had steadied, a few elders began to feel confident again: “With so many of us defending the Senate, even Yang Hao can’t break through. We can hold out until the Executives return.”
This sentiment gained widespread agreement. Ultimately, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Normally, even one Executive Elder in training required dozens of elders to confront. Yang Hao required eight Executives to subdue, and the Dan Ding Sword Sect also had the legendary figure Hed.
Therefore, hunkering down in the Senate for defense became the consensus. As long as they could hold out until the Nine Executives returned, they would have their pillar of support.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanzhi voiced his objection again, this time even more firmly.
In every era and every moment of history, there are those who step forward to make the right decision. Su Hanzhi’s actions nearly saved all the elders and the Senate itself.
“Yang Hao is not one to act recklessly,” Su Hanzhi stared at the elders’ questioning gazes. “He has done many things with careful thought, so he has rarely tasted defeat. If he attacks Elder Mountain today, he must have made thorough preparations. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the Senate, and Yang Hao knows this well, yet he still came.”
The elders’ hearts trembled, as if they understood Su Hanzhi’s implications.
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay on this Elder Mountain?”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at the usually quiet and unassuming Su Hanjing, bewildered by his sudden fiery passion.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make every elder, no matter their rank, hesitate to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical form rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one reason alone—to serve the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the council, an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of that sacred form. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as an ominous aura slowly enveloped Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been swiftly overpowered. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue him.
That overwhelming dominance had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how much influence the Dan Ding Sect had gained, none could match the centuries of accumulated might within the council.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their creation, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders joined together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an indomitable aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been silent for too long within their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the entire Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained their confidence. “With so many of us defending the council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue him—and that was without considering the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to fortify within the council and hold out until the nine chief elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every pivotal moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the entire council.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot conquer the council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just the first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced. A leader had emerged, one they could trust without question.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack. We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them.”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless artifacts rained down from the council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only endure. After the first wave of attacks, they were already struggling to breathe.
But it wasn’t over.
From the council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, cutting through the sword regiments with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere sword masters? It was effortless.
And these elders moved like an unstoppable tide, rolling down the mountain with overwhelming momentum.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing warriors.
The three once-invincible sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their bodies tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t watch his men be slaughtered. He lunged forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated seamlessly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread filling him. He had been confident today, deploying his full strength and luring away the chief elders.
But something was different.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
Today’s battle, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were real flying swords—rare even among the galaxy’s nobility, tightly controlled weapons only the council’s secluded elders could forge.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, it was an easy victory.
Now, a hundred flew at Yang Hao—all at once.
The unlucky target? Yang Hao.
But Yang Hao was used to such predicaments. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part feast.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course had a name: “Slaying the Leader Amidst Ten Thousand.”
No matter how strong the enemy, killing their leader meant victory.
So Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the undefeatable often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords.
No matter how tough his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall—”Frost Quadrant,” the pinnacle of Dan Ding’s defensive techniques.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t weakened divine beasts—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers mattered.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its remnants evaporating into mist.
All in the blink of an eye.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile assault.
He De roared, swinging his axe—a seemingly ordinary weapon, yet one with a legendary name:
“Gold-Splitting Cleave!”
A single strike halved the flying swords’ brilliance.
“What should we do?” By now, the elders had complete faith in Su Hanzhi. A leader who had earned their respect had thus emerged.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this sacred mountain of the elders?”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose—to serve the Supreme One. He was their everything, their unshakable devotion. His body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were his guardians. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across the mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been swiftly defeated. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue him.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in the universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could not match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their creation, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders joined together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed his power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an overwhelming presence.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the entire Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tian Zhi, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of the mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to guard the Supreme One’s cave—now more crucial than ever, lest they repeat the mistake of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the grand hall of the Elder Council—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders began to regain confidence. “With so many of us defending the council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even a single high-ranking elder required dozens of them to match in training. Yet, Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him, not to mention the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely known defeat. If he dares attack the Elder Council today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take us—he knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze shifting to the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just a feint—meant to trap us in the council for defense.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader had been born—one they would follow without question.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front of the column raised a hand, signaling a halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, simply holding up three fingers. “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were left gasping for breath.
But it wasn’t over.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the sword regiments.
A hundred Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters was a one-sided massacre. Worse still, the elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing swordsmen.
The three once-invincible sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their bodies tumbling down the mountainside like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He lunged forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elite—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—joined the fray, fighting alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly ordered, “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, bringing his full might and luring away the high-ranking elders. Based on past encounters, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing leading them, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets and talents beyond his understanding.
Today’s fight, whether won or lost, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like flashes of light, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—rare and regulated even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council could forge them.
Their techniques differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undeniable.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were devastating.
Now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was no stranger to such predicaments. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second move was legendary: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander spelled victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest warriors often fell to them.
Today was no exception. No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So, he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier.
“Frozen Quadrant!”—the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
His opponents were not weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The ice barrier shattered instantly, the thick frost vaporizing into mist under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he might never have used such a costly tactic.
He De roared, swinging his axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed. Yet history had granted it a name—an immortal one.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s technique—and his axe’s name.
The axe, plain as common iron, blazed with radiant power in He De’s hands. The dwarf, barely half a man’s height, wielded the two-meter-long weapon with earth-shaking force.
A single swing extinguished half the flying swords’ light.
This one sentence had already placed Yang Hao in unprecedented trouble.
The night was like a shackle, binding those within it and refusing to let them escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high to avoid triggering the arcane lightning barrier atop Elder Mountain. The Dan Ding Sword Sect and Longyou Sword Corps advanced swiftly beside him, brushing against trees and grass, creating a rustling sound.
Although the Senate appeared tranquil, Yang Hao still felt something strange.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make every elder, whether ordinary or presiding, dare not retreat a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Assembly exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Assembly—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave and must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared to speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Danding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite forces had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight presiding elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited and devoid of confidence.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Assembly centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in the universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Assembly. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Danding Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Assembly. This assembly, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow cultivators. They had remained dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Assembly awakened.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Danding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Danding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another humiliation like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Assembly’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Assembly, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the presiding elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even a single presiding elder in training required dozens of elders to counter. Yet Yang Hao had required eight presiding elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De of the Danding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Assembly and hold out until the nine presiding elders returned—their backbone.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every pivotal moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save not only the elders but the entire Elder Assembly.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. His attack on Elder Mountain today means he is fully prepared. The Danding Sect alone cannot conquer the Elder Assembly—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze shifting to the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What should we do?” By now, the elders were convinced. A leader who commanded their respect had emerged.
“The Supreme One did not build the Elder Assembly over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Danding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like a shackle, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, the Danding Sword Sect and the Dragon Guard Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Assembly seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy silhouette of the Elder Assembly.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Assembly—an ambush without warning, as if hurled from the darkness itself.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it wasn’t over. From the Elder Assembly, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, slaughtering the grand sword regiments with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level cultivators against grand swordsmen? It was effortless. And these hundred elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum chilling to the bone.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping with blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Guard swordsmen.
The three once-invincible grand sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ sudden, suicidal assault, their ranks collapsing like falling logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Danding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again. As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly ordered:
“Retreat!”
The hundred elders withdrew instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full might and luring away the presiding elders. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
Today’s battle, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a countermove, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were genuine flying swords—rare and regulated even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Assembly could forge them.
Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undiminished.
A single flying sword could claim a head from a thousand miles away. Against other Saint-level opponents, victory was effortless. Now, a hundred flying swords were targeting one man in a sneak attack.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to such predicaments, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second of three courses Su Hanjing had prepared.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged assault, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was legendary: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, cutting off the head would secure victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait for this ambush.
Sneak attacks were despised—because they worked. Those who could not be defeated in open battle often fell to treachery.
Today was no exception. Even if Yang Hao had all the speed and defenses in the world, he couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This was no mere assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he reacted.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Danding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier—”Frozen Quartet,” the Danding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Once, it had withstood four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents were not weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades.
And there were a hundred of them. Quantity, at times, could overwhelm quality.
The Frozen Quartet’s barrier shattered instantly, the thick ice vaporizing into mist under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile assault.
He De roared, swinging his axe—a seemingly ordinary weapon, yet one that bore an immortal name in history.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s technique, and his axe’s name. Though the axe appeared mundane, in He De’s hands, it shone with a light that could shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ brilliance.
“What’s wrong?” Yang Hao asked.
Qinglei did not speak but raised three fingers: “Longya, Longwen, Longyi!”
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this sacred mountain of the elders!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who had always been quiet and unassuming, bewildered by his sudden fiery passion.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose—to serve the Supreme One. He was their everything, their unshakable devotion. His sacred body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were his guardians. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly spread across the mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Most of them had faced the Danding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where He De and his elite warriors had shattered their confidence with ease. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue him.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders disheartened, their spirits broken.
“For centuries, the Supreme One has built this council, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped his foot and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Danding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within this council.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their creation, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders joined together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed his power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and indomitable spirit.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant for too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the entire Elder Council.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, take ten men each and guard the three cliffs of the mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Danding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elder leaders, without questioning Su Hanjing’s authority, nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two more elders were dispatched to guard the Supreme One’s sacred body—a task now more critical than ever, lest they repeat the mistake of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the council hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they stood.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained their confidence. “With so many of us defending the council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even a single high-ranking elder required dozens of them to match in training. Yet Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was before considering He De, the legendary warrior of the Danding Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to fortify the council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time with even greater resolve.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save not just the elders but the entire council.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has never truly lost. If he dares attack the Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Danding Sect alone cannot defeat us—he knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This vanguard is just a test—to lure us into a defensive stance.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced. A leader had emerged, one they all respected.
“The Supreme One did not build this council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Danding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, trapping those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors of the Danding Sword Sect and the Dragon’s Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers. “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored swordmaster regiments surged forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless artifacts rained down from the council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave, they were already overwhelmed.
But it didn’t end there.
From the council, a hundred elders descended, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with terrifying efficiency.
A hundred Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters was a massacre. And these elders moved like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed several heads.
The three once-undefeated swordmaster regiments crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He lunged forward on Shadowmoon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Danding Sect’s elites—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—joined the fray like arrows loosed from a bow.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly ordered, “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread filling him. He had been confident today, bringing his full might while luring the high-ranking elders away. But something was different.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets beyond his understanding.
This fight, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a whistling sound filled the air.
Like flashes of light, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—rare even among the galaxy’s nobility, tightly controlled, reserved only for the Elder Council’s most disciplined warriors.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against ordinary Saint-level warriors, it was an instant victory.
But a hundred? All aimed at one man?
That man was Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was used to such situations. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireball barrage and the reckless charge—meant to break their momentum.
This second strike was legendary: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander ensured victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest warriors often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how fast Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Danding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadowmoon to form an icy barrier.
“Frozen Quadrant!”—the Danding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
His opponents were not weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed over decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The Frozen Quadrant shattered on impact, the thick ice vanishing into vapor.
It happened in an instant.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more lifelines.
Had Su Hanjing known, he might not have wasted such effort on this doomed strike.
He De roared, his axe flashing.
It was an ordinary-looking axe—no divine craftsmanship, no dark angel’s legacy. Yet history had granted it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Sundering Cleave!”
He De’s technique, and his axe’s name. Though the weapon seemed mundane, in his hands, it shone with a light that could shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ assault.
A thunderous explosion shattered the night sky.
From within the Senate, hundreds of fireballs flew out, countless magical treasures raining down like hail. This sudden attack came without warning, as if thrown from the pitch-black night itself.
The three great sword master teams had no time to react and could not retreat, forced to endure the onslaught. After the first wave of long-range attacks, the three teams were already overwhelmed, struggling to catch their breath.
But it wasn’t over yet. From the Senate, over a hundred elders flew out, swords in hand, exuding formidable auras as they slaughtered the great sword masters.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay on Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unremarkable. They couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one reason alone—for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council, an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of that sacred body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been swiftly defeated. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in the universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped his foot and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem to awaken fully.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, none could match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council.
They were undefeated. From the day of their founding, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Council awakened.
“Elders Tian Zhi, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Dan Ding Cave, where guarding the Supreme One’s body was now of utmost importance. They could not afford another mistake like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders began to regain confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single high-ranking elder required dozens of them to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he dares to attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze shifting to the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—meant to trap us in the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had been born.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed wildly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Around him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, signaling the troops to halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, merely holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if hurled from the darkness itself.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already struggling to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders descended, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with unstoppable momentum.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters? It was effortless.
And these hundred elders surged down the mountain like an iron tide, their overwhelming force terrifying to behold.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping with blood—a god of slaughter. In just a few clashes, he had taken the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Corps warriors.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled instantly under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
When Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing simply said, “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident in this battle, deploying all his elites and luring away the high-ranking elders. Based on past encounters, the ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But things were different now.
With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered?
This fight, regardless of outcome, would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could think of a countermeasure, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke.
These were real flying swords—rare and tightly controlled even among the nobility of the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council were permitted to forge them.
Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but the ancient techniques they used ensured their power remained undiminished.
A single flying sword could take a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were devastating.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was no stranger to such situations. The moment he heard the whistling, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
Su Hanjing had prepared three courses for them.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
The second was this: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops!”
No matter how strong the enemy, cutting down their leader meant victory.
So Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised precisely because they worked. Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords.
No matter how tough his defenses, they couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single action saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier.
“Frozen Quadrant!”
This was the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive sword technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons.
They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t weakened divine beasts—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The Frozen Quadrant shattered on contact. The thick ice vanished without a trace, leaving only wisps of vapor.
All this happened in the blink of an eye.
But Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he might never have wasted energy on this futile assault.
He De roared, swinging his axe.
An ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed, yet history had granted it a name—an immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
This was He De’s technique—and his axe’s name.
The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, the dwarf—half the height of an average man—wielded the two-meter-long weapon with blinding brilliance.
A single swing halved the flying swords’ radiance.
Leading this group of elders was naturally Su Hanzhi, his black hair flying, sword dripping blood, like a god of slaughter. In just a few exchanges, he had already taken the heads of several Longyou Sword Corps members.
The three once-invincible great sword master teams crumbled instantly under the elders’ sudden, reckless onslaught, unable to even stand their ground. The wounded and dead rolled down the mountain like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though startled, could not watch his subordinates being slaughtered. He charged ahead, already riding Yingyue and rushing forward to engage the over a hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s experts launched a coordinated assault. Hed, Lanling, Longyun, Xie Fengting, Qinglei, Maya—these peerless experts shot forward like arrows, fighting side by side with Yang Hao.
But the battle situation shifted again. When Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanzhi coldly ordered:
“Retreat!”
The over a hundred elders withdrew silently, leaving a vast empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up in alarm, a sense of surprise and foreboding rising in his heart. Today’s battle had initially filled Yang Hao with confidence. He had brought his elite forces and lured away the Executive Elders. Based on past experiences, although the regular elders possessed high cultivation, they were essentially just fighters without superior wisdom.
But it was different this time. When Su Hanzhi stood at the forefront of the elders, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold, what people had it gathered? It was not something easily understood.
No matter the outcome of today’s events, it would not be resolved in the simplest way.
Before Yang Hao could formulate a plan, a sharp whistling sound filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, over a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords. Although many nobles in the Galactic Empire were allowed to cultivate martial arts, flying swords were strictly controlled advanced weapons.
Only the refined elders of the Senate could forge them. Their methods of cultivating flying swords differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but generally followed ancient cultivation techniques passed down through the ages, so their power was not diminished.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing stomped over to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell silent, staring dumbfounded at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unremarkable. They couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was enough.
Why did the Elder Council exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Council—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, and it could never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared to speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Danding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been crushed in an instant. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had now become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared: “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed again. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Danding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Council. This institution, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders clasped together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been silent for too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Council awakened.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Danding Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Danding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another mistake like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single high-ranking elder required dozens of ordinary elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue—and that was without considering the legendary He De of the Danding Sword Sect.
So, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and defend until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is not a reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, which is why he has rarely tasted defeat. If he is attacking Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof strategy. The Danding Sect alone could never take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance, where the white-cloaked forces were nearing the mountainside. “This assault is just their first probe—to force us into a defensive position within the Elder Council.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had emerged.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed wildly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Danding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Danding Sword Sect and the Dragon’s Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, signaling the troops to halt.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already overwhelmed.
But it didn’t end there. From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, cutting through the grand sword regiments with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. And these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon’s Blessing warriors.
The three once-invincible sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their bodies tumbling down like logs.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He dashed forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Danding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly commanded:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated in an instant, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread and foreboding gripping him. He had been confident in this battle, deploying all his elites and luring away the high-ranking elders. Based on past encounters, the ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But things were different now. With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
This fight, whether won or lost, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a plan, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like flashes of light, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Council were permitted to forge them.
Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but they stemmed from ancient cultivation techniques, making them no less deadly.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they guaranteed victory. Now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was no stranger to such predicaments. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
Su Hanjing had prepared three courses for them.
The first was the initial bombardment and the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
The second was this infamous tactic: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops!” No matter how strong the enemy, cutting off the head would ensure victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised precisely because they worked. Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Today was no exception. No matter how fast Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, he couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just an assassination—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So, he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single action saved him—and the Danding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon and forming an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrants!”—the pinnacle of the Danding Sect’s defensive sword arts. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t restrained divine beasts—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades, their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them. Quantity didn’t always matter—but at critical moments, it could change everything.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its thick, sturdy ice evaporating into mist under the swords’ assault.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
But Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he might never have used such a costly tactic.
He De roared, swinging his long axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon—not a divine artifact nor the Dark Angel King’s Night Axe. Yet history had granted it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Splitting Cleave!”
It was He De’s technique—and his axe’s name. The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, this half-sized old man wielding a two-meter-long giant axe radiated brilliance—enough to shake the cosmos.
A single swing halved the flying swords’ glow.
That unfortunate person was Yang Hao.
Although Yang Hao was unlucky, he had encountered such situations many times over the years, practically becoming accustomed to them. As soon as he heard the sound of the flying swords, he knew he had fallen into Su Hanzhi’s ambush.
Yang Hao’s guess was correct. This was the second of the three major surprises Su Hanzhi had prepared for them.
The first was the earlier barrage of fireballs and ranged weapons, followed by a bold charge down the mountain to kill, meant to blunt their edge.
Now, this second wave had a famous name: “Severing the enemy’s head amidst a thousand troops!” The idea was that no matter how many enemies or how powerful they were, if the leader was eliminated, the battle was effectively won.
Therefore, Su Hanzhi had only led a hundred elders in a charge, while the remaining one hundred and fifty remained hidden, waiting for this sudden strike.
Ambushes have always been despised because they are too effective. In this world, anyone who cannot be defeated or killed in fair combat often ends up falling to an ambush.
For a moment, the argument to retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unremarkable. They couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
Why did the Elder Assembly exist? It existed for the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the Elder Assembly—an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, and it must never be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of the Supreme One’s body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared to speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Moreover, most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been swiftly defeated. Even Yang Hao alone had required eight senior elders to subdue him.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Assembly centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are the three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had become a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell around him, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Assembly. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated strength within the Elder Assembly. This assembly, built by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of power in the vast universe.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an imposing aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just the day of Su Hanjing’s revival—it was the day the entire Elder Assembly awakened.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect is attacking from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took teams to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another incident like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Assembly’s grand hall—a force that could shake the earth wherever they appeared.
Perhaps reassured, some elders began to regain confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Assembly, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the senior elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single senior elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight senior elders to subdue him—and that was without considering the legendary He De of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Assembly and hold out until the nine senior elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Assembly itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he has done has been meticulously planned, and he has rarely suffered defeat. If he is attacking Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof strategy. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the Elder Assembly—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of Su Hanjing’s words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze turning toward the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced by Su Hanjing. A leader who commanded their respect had emerged.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Assembly over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack. We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them.”
This single sentence plunged Yang Hao into unprecedented trouble.
The night was like shackles, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Corps advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the Elder Assembly seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li, at the front of the formation, raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li said nothing, only holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand swordmaster teams leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Assembly.
A deafening explosion shook the night.
From the Elder Assembly, hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down like a sudden storm—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard swordmaster teams had no time to react, let alone retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave of attacks, they were already overwhelmed, struggling to breathe.
But it wasn’t over. From the Elder Assembly, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the swordmasters.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters? It was effortless. And these hundred elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping with blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had taken the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Corps members.
The three once-invincible swordmaster teams crumbled under the elders’ sudden, suicidal assault, their ranks collapsing like falling logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders who dared to strike first.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya, all legendary warriors, fighting alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again. As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing coldly ordered:
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated as swiftly as they had come, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread filling him. He had been confident in this battle, deploying his full elite force while luring the senior elders away. From past experience, the ordinary elders, though powerful, were mere enforcers—lacking strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing at the forefront, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five hundred years—what secrets did it hold? What kind of people had it gathered? Such things were not easily unraveled.
No matter the outcome, this battle would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could devise a countermeasure, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire. Only the secluded elders of the Elder Assembly were permitted to forge them.
Their methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but they were based on ancient cultivation techniques, making them no less deadly.
A single flying sword could take a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they guaranteed victory. Now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man in a sneak attack.
That unlucky man was Yang Hao.
Though accustomed to such predicaments, Yang Hao knew he had walked into Su Hanjing’s trap the moment he heard the swords.
He was right. This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part feast.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course was a famed tactic: “Slay the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander spelled victory.
Thus, Su Hanjing had led only a hundred elders out, keeping another hundred and fifty in reserve for this ambush.
Sneak attacks were despised—precisely because they worked. Those who could not be defeated in open battle often fell to treachery.
Today was no exception. Even with all his skills, Yang Hao couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even his strongest defenses couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of Saint-level, he had never faced such peril.
So he reacted.
He swallowed a pill.
That single action saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall—”Frozen Quadrant,” the pinnacle of Dan Ding’s defensive sword arts. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
His opponents now were not restrained divine dragons but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades—their power undeniable.
And there were a hundred of them. Quantity might not always matter, but at critical moments, it could change everything.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its thick ice evaporating into mist under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this futile strike.
He De roared, his great axe flashing.
An ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed, yet history had granted it a name—an immortal name.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
He De’s axe technique—and the axe itself. Though plain as common iron, in He De’s hands, it shone with a light that could shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ brilliance.
This ambush was not meant to kill a man—it was meant to slay a god.
For a moment, the argument to retreat gained the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain!”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at the usually quiet and unassuming Su Hanjing, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “The Supreme One’s physical body rests in the cave behind us. Where would you retreat to?”
Sometimes, one sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose—to serve the Supreme One. The Supreme One was everything to the council, an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were the guardians of that sacred body. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt an unprecedented sense of being under attack. Many of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Heade and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders dispirited, their confidence shattered.
“For centuries, the Supreme One built this council, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared: “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right—the most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within the council. This institution, forged by the Supreme One over hundreds of years, represented the pinnacle of cosmic power.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an indomitable aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been dormant in their ivory tower for too long, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the entire Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, take ten men each and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of other schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another humiliation like in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained their confidence: “With so many of us defending the council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment was met with agreement. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. Even in training, a single chief elder required dozens of elders to match. Yet Yang Hao had required eight chief elders to subdue, not to mention the legendary Heade of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the council and hold out until the nine chief elders returned to lead them.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the entire council.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he rarely fails. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze fixed on the distance where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This vanguard is just a probe, meant to trap us in defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced. A leader had emerged, one they trusted completely.
“The Supreme One did not build this council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like a shackle, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Though the council seemed quiet, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qingli at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qingli said nothing, only holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored grand sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outline of the council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless artifacts rained down from the council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only brace for impact. After the first wave, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the grand sword regiments.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere sword masters? It was effortless. And these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had claimed the heads of several Dragon Blessing swordsmen.
The three once-invincible grand sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ relentless assault, their ranks collapsing like falling timber.
“Kill!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t watch his men be slaughtered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—Heade, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qingli, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly ordered: “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full might while luring the chief elders away. Historically, the ordinary elders, though powerful, lacked strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing at their helm, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
Whatever the outcome, it would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
Like fleeting shadows, a hundred flying swords shot toward him.
This was no joke. These were genuine flying swords—rare even among the galaxy’s nobility, tightly controlled and reserved for the council’s ascetic elders.
Their cultivation methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undiminished.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were devastating.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was no stranger to such predicaments. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he’d walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part feast.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged assault, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second course had a name: “Slaying the Leader Amidst Ten Thousand Troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, cutting off the head would cripple the body.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest often fell to them.
Today was no exception. No matter how skilled Yang Hao was, no matter how slippery his footing, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. Even his legendary defenses couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level strikes.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the pinnacle of Saint-level, he’d never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light surged around him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier.
“Frost Quadrant!”—the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Once, it had withstood four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were deadlier.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t weakened divine beasts but a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades.
And there were a hundred of them. Quantity sometimes mattered most.
The Frost Quadrant shattered instantly, its thick ice vaporized under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
Yet Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he might not have wasted energy on this futile strike.
Heade roared, his axe flashing.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon, neither divine nor cursed. Yet history had granted it a name—an immortal one.
“Gold-Cleaving Sunder!”
Heade’s technique—and his axe’s name. Though plain, in his hands, it shone with a light that could shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ onslaught.
So, he did something.
He threw a pill into his mouth. This action completely saved Yang Hao and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
For a moment, the voices calling for retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely. “If you’re so cowardly, how dare you call yourselves elders? How dare you stay in this Elder Mountain?”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at Su Hanjing, who was usually quiet and unassuming. They couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so fiery today.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, one sentence is enough.
And this was enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose—to serve the Supreme One. He was their everything, their unshakable devotion. His body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were his guardians. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. But as the killing intent slowly spread across Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Most of them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion before. Under the leadership of He De and his elite warriors, the elders had been crushed in an instant. Yang Hao alone had required eight high-ranking elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders demoralized, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared, “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao was, no matter how powerful the Dan Ding Sect had become, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within the Elder Council.
They were undefeated. From the day of their founding, they had never known defeat.
The hands of the three hundred elders clasped together, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind. “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed his power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and an indomitable aura.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had been silent for too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. But today was not just Su Hanjing’s rebirth—it was the revival of the Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tian Zhe, Tian Qi, and Tian Yu, take ten men each and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must be wary of any hidden schemes.”
The three elderly elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their positions.
Two other elders took their teams to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance. They could not afford another mistake like the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
With that, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the Elder Council’s grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
Steadying their nerves, some elders began to regain confidence. “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the high-ranking elders return.”
The others agreed. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. In training, it took dozens of elders to match a single high-ranking elder. Yet Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was without considering He De, the legendary figure of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine high-ranking elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, there are those who make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he rarely loses. If he’s attacking Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot take the Elder Council—Yang Hao knows this, yet he still came.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication of his words.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move.” Su Hanjing’s gaze turned to the distance, where a white-cloaked force was nearing the mountainside. “This force is just their first probe—to trap us in a defensive position.”
“What do we do?” By now, the elders were fully convinced. A leader had emerged, one they would follow without question.
“The Supreme One did not establish the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles!” Su Hanjing laughed wildly. “We attack. We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter how many they have, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like a shackle, binding those within it, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, their movements rustling through the undergrowth.
Despite the Elder Council’s eerie calm, something felt off to Yang Hao.
Suddenly, Qing Li at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qing Li didn’t speak—he simply held up three fingers. “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored sword regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night sky.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless magical artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard sword regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only endure. After the first wave of attacks, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders descended like a steel tide, swords gleaming as they slaughtered the sword regiments.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters—it was effortless. And the sheer momentum of their charge was terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his black hair wild, his sword dripping blood like a god of slaughter. In mere moments, he had taken the heads of several Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment warriors.
The three once-invincible sword regiments crumbled under the elders’ suicidal assault, their bodies tumbling down the mountain like logs.
“Kill!!!” Though shocked, Yang Hao couldn’t stand by as his men were slaughtered. He surged forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—He De, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qing Li, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao appeared, Su Hanjing smirked.
“Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated in an instant, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying all his elites and luring away the high-ranking elders. The ordinary elders, though powerful, had always been mere enforcers—lacking true strategic brilliance.
But this was different. With Su Hanjing at their head, Yang Hao knew this battle would not be easy.
A force that had existed for over five centuries held secrets—and people—that were not easily understood.
No matter the outcome, this would not be resolved simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a sharp whistling filled the air.
A hundred flying swords shot toward him like streaks of light.
This was no joke. These were real flying swords—high-level weapons strictly controlled in the Galactic Empire, reserved only for the Elder Council’s secluded elders.
Their cultivation methods differed slightly from Yang Hao’s, but their power was undeniable.
A single flying sword could take a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were nearly unbeatable.
And now, a hundred of them were aimed at one man—Yang Hao.
Though unlucky, Yang Hao was used to such situations. The moment he heard the swords, he knew he’d walked into Su Hanjing’s trap.
This was the second course of Su Hanjing’s three-part plan.
The first had been the fireballs and ranged attacks, followed by the aggressive charge—meant to blunt their edge.
This second move was legendary: “Slaying the leader amidst ten thousand troops.” No matter how strong the enemy, killing their commander was victory.
Su Hanjing had led a hundred elders out, while another hundred and fifty lay in wait—just for this ambush.
Ambushes were despised because they worked. Even the mightiest warriors often fell to them.
Today was no exception.
No matter how fast Yang Hao was, he couldn’t outrun flying swords. No matter how strong his defenses, he couldn’t withstand a hundred Saint-level attacks.
This wasn’t just murder—it was deicide.
Yang Hao knew he was in trouble. Since reaching the peak of the Saint Realm, he had never faced such peril.
So he did the only thing he could.
He swallowed a pill.
That single act saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, a blue light enveloped him, resonating with Shadow Moon to form an ice wall before him and his allies.
“Frozen Quadrant!”—the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique. Yang Hao had once used it to block four dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao’s opponents weren’t restrained divine beasts—they were a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed over decades.
And there were a hundred of them.
Numbers didn’t always matter—until they did.
The ice wall shattered instantly, its thick, unyielding ice reduced to vapor under the swords’ assault.
It happened in a blink.
But Yang Hao survived—because he had two more aces. Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted energy on this attack.
He De roared, swinging his long axe.
It was an ordinary-looking weapon—no divine artifact, no legendary blade. Yet history had given it a name.
An immortal name.
“Gold-Splitting Cleave!”
It was He De’s technique—and his axe’s name. The axe was plain, like common iron. But in He De’s hands, the dwarf and his two-meter-long weapon radiated brilliance—enough to shake the cosmos.
One swing halved the flying swords’ power.
“Ice Square!” This was the ultimate defensive sword technique of the Dan Ding Sect, a technique Yang Hao had once used to block attacks from four flying dragons.
But flying swords were not dragons—they were stronger.
For a moment, the voices advocating retreat seemed to gain the upper hand.
But Su Hanjing strode up to the elders, pointing at them fiercely: “How dare you call yourselves elders with such cowardice? How dare you remain in this sacred Elder Mountain?”
The three hundred elders fell into stunned silence, staring at the usually quiet and unassuming Su Hanjing, bewildered by his sudden fiery outburst.
Then Su Hanjing spoke a single sentence—one that he knew would make it impossible for any elder, no matter their rank, to retreat even a single step.
“Behind us stands the Supreme One!” Su Hanjing declared. “His sacred body rests in the cave behind us. Where would we retreat to?”
Sometimes, a single sentence is enough.
And this was more than enough.
The Elder Council existed for one purpose alone—to serve the Supreme One. He was their everything, an unshakable devotion.
The Supreme One’s body was enshrined in the cave, never to be moved lightly.
The three hundred elders were his guardians. Who would dare act recklessly?
Now, no one dared speak of retreat. Yet, as the killing intent slowly enveloped Elder Mountain, the elders felt something they had never experienced before—the sensation of being under attack.
Many among them had faced the Dan Ding Sect in the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Heade and his elite warriors had crushed them effortlessly. Yang Hao alone had required eight chief elders to subdue.
That overwhelming power had left the three hundred elders disheartened, their confidence shattered.
“The Supreme One established the Elder Council centuries ago, and we have never lost,” Su Hanjing said coldly. “Does Yang Hao think we are defenseless? Are three hundred elders not the most formidable force in this universe?”
All eyes turned to Su Hanjing.
This once-ordinary man had transformed into a warrior—a true warrior.
Su Hanjing roared: “The Master grants me strength!”
Silence fell, as if everyone was gathering their resolve, waiting.
“The Master grants me strength!!” Su Hanjing stomped and bellowed. “The Master grants me strength!!”
Only then did the three hundred elders seem truly awakened.
Su Hanjing was right. The most formidable power in the universe resided within the Elder Council. No matter how strong Yang Hao or the Dan Ding Sect were, they could never match the centuries of accumulated might within these halls.
They were undefeated. From the moment of their inception, they had never known defeat.
The three hundred elders clasped hands, their blood boiling, their golden robes fluttering in the night wind: “The Master grants me strength! The Master grants me strength!!”
It was as if the Supreme One had truly bestowed power upon them, filling them with radiant energy and indomitable spirit.
Tears welled in Su Hanjing’s eyes as he looked at his fellow elders. They had lingered too long in their ivory tower, nearly losing themselves. Today was not just his rebirth—it was the revival of the Elder Council’s spirit.
“Elders Tianzhe, Tianqi, and Tianyu, each take ten men and guard the three cliffs of Elder Mountain,” Su Hanjing commanded calmly. “Though the Dan Ding Sword Sect attacks from the front, Yang Hao alone cannot defeat us. We must beware of any hidden schemes.”
The three aged elders did not question Su Hanjing’s authority. They nodded and led their men to their posts.
Two other elders were dispatched to the Dan Ding Cave to guard the Supreme One’s body—a task now of utmost importance, lest they repeat the humiliation of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, where Yang Hao had exploited their weakness.
Thus, only two hundred and fifty elders remained in the grand hall—a force capable of shaking the heavens and earth wherever they appeared.
With their spirits steadied, some elders regained confidence: “With so many of us defending the Elder Council, even Yang Hao cannot break through. We can hold out until the chief elders return.”
This sentiment spread. Deep down, the elders still feared Yang Hao. A single chief elder in training could overpower dozens of them, yet Yang Hao had required eight to subdue him—and that was without considering the legendary Heade of the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
Thus, the consensus was to hunker down in the Elder Council and hold out until the nine chief elders returned.
“No! Absolutely not!!” Su Hanjing objected again, this time even more resolutely.
In every era, at every critical moment, someone must step forward to make the right choice. Su Hanjing’s actions would save the elders—and the Elder Council itself.
“Yang Hao is no reckless fool,” Su Hanjing said, meeting their doubtful gazes. “Everything he does is calculated, which is why he rarely loses. If he dares attack Elder Mountain today, he must have a foolproof plan. The Dan Ding Sect alone cannot conquer us—he knows that, yet he still comes.”
The elders shuddered, sensing the implication.
“Exactly. Yang Hao has another move,” Su Hanjing said, his gaze shifting to the distance, where a white-cloaked force approached the mountainside. “This vanguard is just a feint—to lure us into defensive positions.”
“What do we do?” Now, the elders deferred to Su Hanjing without question. A leader had emerged, one they trusted completely.
“The Supreme One did not build the Elder Council over centuries for us to cower like turtles,” Su Hanjing laughed defiantly. “We attack! We charge out and fight the Dan Ding Sect to the death. With two hundred and fifty elders, no matter their numbers, we will crush them!”
With those words, Yang Hao was plunged into unprecedented trouble.
Night was like shackles, binding those within, leaving no escape.
Yang Hao hovered in the air, careful not to rise too high and trigger the Elder Mountain’s thunder barrier. Beside him, warriors from the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment advanced swiftly, rustling through the undergrowth.
Despite the Elder Council’s silence, something felt off.
Suddenly, Qingli at the front raised a hand, halting the troops.
“What is it?” Yang Hao asked.
Qingli said nothing, holding up three fingers: “Dragon Fang, Dragon Mark, Dragon Wing!”
Three heavily armored swordmaster regiments leaped forward, charging toward the shadowy outlines of the Elder Council.
A deafening explosion shook the night.
Hundreds of fireballs and countless artifacts rained down from the Elder Council—an ambush without warning, as if the darkness itself had struck.
The three vanguard regiments had no time to react, no chance to retreat. They could only endure. After the first barrage, they were pinned down, barely able to breathe.
But it didn’t end there.
From the Elder Council, a hundred elders surged forth, swords gleaming, slaughtering the swordmasters with terrifying efficiency.
Hundreds of Saint-level warriors against mere swordmasters? It was effortless.
And these elders descended like an unstoppable tide, their momentum terrifying.
Leading them was Su Hanjing, his hair wild, his sword dripping blood—a god of slaughter. In moments, he had claimed several heads from the Dragon Blessing Sword Regiment.
The three once-invincible swordmaster regiments crumbled under the elders’ suicidal assault, their ranks collapsing like falling timber.
“Kill!!!” Yang Hao, though shocked, couldn’t stand by as his men were butchered. He shot forward on Shadow Moon, clashing with the hundred elders.
The Dan Ding Sect’s elites joined the fray—Heade, Lan Ling, Long Yun, Xie Fengting, Qingli, and Maya—charging like arrows alongside Yang Hao.
But the battle shifted again.
As Yang Hao engaged, Su Hanjing coldly ordered: “Fall back!”
The hundred elders retreated instantly, leaving an empty battlefield.
Yang Hao looked up, dread creeping into his heart. He had been confident today, deploying his full might and luring away the chief elders. The ordinary elders, though powerful, had always seemed mere enforcers—lacking true strategy.
But now, with Su Hanjing at their head, he realized this fight would not be easy.
A force five centuries old held secrets and talents beyond reckoning.
This battle, win or lose, would not end simply.
Before Yang Hao could strategize, a whistling filled the air.
A hundred flying swords streaked toward him.
This was no joke. These were genuine flying swords—rare, regulated treasures in the galaxy, reserved for the Elder Council’s ascetics.
A single flying sword could claim a head from miles away. Against other Saint-level warriors, they were devastating.
Now, a hundred flew at Yang Hao—a sneak attack meant to slay a god.
Yang Hao, no stranger to danger, reacted instantly.
He swallowed a pill.
That action saved him—and the Dan Ding Sword Sect.
As the pill dissolved, blue light surged around him, merging with Shadow Moon to form an icy barrier—”Frost Quadrant,” the Dan Ding Sect’s ultimate defensive technique.
But flying swords were not dragons. They were stronger.
Yang Hao faced a hundred Saint-level elders, their swords honed for decades.
A hundred swords.
Quantity sometimes mattered.
The Frost Quadrant shattered instantly, the ice vaporized without a trace.
But Yang Hao survived—thanks to two more aces.
Had Su Hanjing known, he would never have wasted this ambush.
Heade roared, his axe flashing—a seemingly ordinary weapon, yet one with a legendary name.
“The Sundering Gold!”
With a single swing, half the flying swords dimmed.
The night trembled. The battle had only just begun.
More importantly, there were over a hundred of them. Quantity might not always matter, but at critical moments, it often brought qualitative change.
The ice wall formed by Ice Square shattered on contact. The thick, sturdy ice blocks were reduced to nothing under the flying swords’ bombardment, evaporating into streams of white vapor.
This happened in the blink of an eye.
But Yang Hao behind the ice wall was not dead, for he had two more trump cards. If Su Hanzhi had known Yang Hao possessed these two techniques, he would never have used the hundred-sword ambush, which was so exhausting and unrewarding.
Hed roared and immediately threw his axe.
It was an axe that appeared ordinary, not a divine artifact created by the Creator, nor the Night Axe of the Dark Angel King Sa’an. Yet, throughout history, it had been given a name—a name that would never fade.
“Golden Severance!”
This was Hed’s axe technique, and also the name of his axe. The axe itself was ordinary, seemingly no different from mundane iron. But as long as Hed held it, this old man, barely half the height of an average person, wielding a two-meter-long great axe, would radiate dazzling brilliance. This brilliance would shake the entire universe.
With one swing, half the flying swords’ glow was cut away.
This was already an achievement sufficient to send chills down the elders’ spines. Su Hanjing gazed from afar, his heart sinking to the depths of despair. He had already discerned that the small, elderly bear harbored a power surpassing even that of the Elder Custodian.
It was a presence akin to the old Sword Saint.
Although no one officially acknowledged their power over the universe, they were nonetheless legends. One remained deeply hidden within the imperial palace, safeguarding the royal family’s peace for a hundred years.
The other steadfastly guarded the outer territories, preventing the empire’s iron cavalry from advancing a single step.
To have such legendary figures nearby could only be described as extremely unfortunate—truly terrible luck—for anyone who had provoked Yang Hao.
However, Yang Hao’s danger had not yet passed. Even though the flying sword had been momentarily halted by the ice wall and then had half its force diminished by the metal-severing crack, it still possessed enough power to shake the heavens and split the earth.
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