The skies above the Celestial Sect were calm, veiled in a misty serenity that belied the gathering storm. Far beyond the outer perimeter, across mountains and ravines, an ominous horde was on the move. The Heavenly Fire Pavilion had amassed a terrifying force—ten thousand warriors, handpicked and sworn to raze the Celestial Sect to dust. At their helm stood Fang Zhu, the ruthless mastermind, with sect leader Huo Liang beside him, his blood boiling for vengeance. Wai Jun, his son—now a duke stage warrior—marched with pride. Hidden in their ranks was the true threat: a Half-God realm warrior dispatched by the Sky Serpent Palace, a high-tier sect that had long envied the ancient Celestial Sect.
The Half-God, cloaked in arrogance, scoffed at the idea of resistance. "Only one Saint-level power in the Celestial Sect," he mused. "Yuan Xian. Kill him, and the sect dies." He didn't even bother scanning for other powers, his pride shielding him from suspicion.
As they flew toward the Celestial Sect, dark clouds swirled overhead. Yet within the sect, everything appeared still—eerily so.
---
High in the inner sanctum of the Ascending Hall, Elder Yun Yi, the ancient and reclusive formation master, opened his eyes. A soft sigh escaped his weathered lips as he gazed out over the sect from the mist-shrouded cliffs. With a blink, his figure vanished into thin air.
Moments later, he appeared in the Main Hall.
"Sect Master," his deep, ethereal voice echoed. "It is time."
Yuan Xian, seated in meditative focus, opened his eyes. "They come?"
Yun Yi gave a small nod. "They underestimated us. Let them taste that mistake."
One by one, the nine remaining elders appeared in the hall—each summoned by a signal only known to the ancient formation lines etched into the foundation of the sect itself.
The enemy forces surged over the final mountain pass. Upon reaching the outer gates of the Celestial Sect, they found... nothing. No guards. No barriers. The houses for outer disciples lay silent and empty. The breeze carried no human scent—only the biting chill of the unknown.
"Where is everyone?" murmured one of the commanders.
"Maybe they fled?" another offered, uncertain.
"No," growled the Half-God. "They hide. Spread out! Find them! Leave no structure unchecked!"
The massive army split into ten divisions, each heading toward one of the ten elder headquarters, planning to burn the sect from the roots.
And then, chaos erupted.
---
Division One: Elder Qin Lei - External Combat Commander
His attackers stormed the training grounds—expecting resistance from junior disciples. Instead, they were met by a towering figure with only one arm, leaning on a massive spear etched with ancient runes.
"You picked the wrong place," Qin Lei muttered, his voice gravel and steel.
In a single swing, his spear became a tempest, tearing through ranks of enemy warriors. Saint Realm power radiated from him like an inferno. Each strike shattered bones, each breath brought death. He moved like a force of war itself—resurrecting the legend of the 'Scarred Sentinel' who once turned tides in the War of Scars.
One enemy captain screamed, "It's him! Qin Lei! The Butcher of Red Plains!" But it was too late. Within minutes, his enemies were corpses beneath a red sky.
---
Division Two: Elder Wu Jian – Strategic Operations Head
This division entered a hall lined with scrolls, maps, and strange chessboards. Wu Jian stood waiting, smiling with a wicked glint in his eye.
"Welcome to the board," he said. "Let's play."
Illusions. Traps. Shifting walls. His enemies found themselves lost, surrounded by mirrors, shadows, and decoys. Then the real slaughter began. From behind, beneath, above—Wu Jian emerged like a phantom, striking vital points with deadly precision. Blood painted the walls as warriors screamed for mercy that never came.
"Too slow," he chuckled as he cut down the last. "Your move... was foolish."
---
Division Three: Elder Mei Lan – Internal Affairs and Discipline
Inside the grand disciplinary hall, the walls pulsed with restrictive energy. The invaders laughed, expecting an easy kill. Mei Lan, clad in blood-red robes, stepped from the shadows.
"I once killed my disciple for stealing a herb," she whispered. "What do you think I'll do to you?"
Her discipline was ruthless, and so was her power. Golden chains surged from the walls, wrapping her enemies like serpents. Their limbs shattered under divine pressure. She moved with calm ferocity, her expression never changing, as screams echoed endlessly.
Some tried to flee. They burned in spiritual fire traps. Mei Lan watched, unmoved.
"Order must be maintained."
---
Division Four: Elder Long Chi – Artifact and Forging Master
The forge flared like a dying star as Long Chi laughed maniacally.
"Good," he grunted. "More firewood."
The invaders rushed in, only to be impaled by flying molten weapons, unfinished but deadly. Hammers forged in the flames of ancient stars crashed into their skulls. He pulled them into the forge one by one, using their blood to temper blades.
Their cries melted into the hiss of steel quenched in death.
---
Division Five: Elder Xue Tong – Alchemy and Medical Hall
The air here was sweet—too sweet. As soon as the attackers stepped inside, they began to tremble.
"What is this scent—"
Their eyes bulged. Flesh peeled. Veins exploded. Some began to claw at themselves, begging for death. Xue Tong appeared, holding a delicate porcelain cup.
"Too much?" she asked innocently. "This is only my garden blend."
She didn't lift a weapon. Her poisons did the work—subtle, elegant, unstoppable. Bodies piled like wilting flowers.
---
Division Six: Elder Fang Yue – Beast Taming Mistress
Shrieks and howls echoed from the dense forest where this division entered. Eyes glinted in the shadows—hundreds of them.
Fang Yue stood atop a massive spirit panther, her whip coiled at her side. "Dinner time."
Spiritual beasts surged from the trees, fang and claw tearing through armor. Even battle-hardened warriors screamed as they were dragged into the foliage. Fang Yue laughed as she rode through them, untouchable.
"Not even bones," she warned. "Leave nothing behind."
---
Division Seven: Elder Hei Zhen – Shadow Division
There was no battle here—only silence.
The attackers marched in, tense. Then they began to fall—throats slit, heads removed, hearts pierced.
"No enemy in sight!" they cried.
That was the last thing they ever said.
Hei Zhen's blade never glinted in the light. He moved through shadow, killing silently. None knew his face. None survived to report it.
---
Division Eight: Elder Yao Jin – Resource Management
Yao Jin stood beside gold-plated vaults, surrounded by thousands of resource crates.
"You want to burn my warehouse?" he snarled.
He summoned spiritual chains to bind his enemies, dragging them into cages.
"You'll pay for damages... with your lives."
He enslaved them mid-battle, branding them with seals. Some he electrocuted. Some he froze. Others he sold—live—to black markets via secret portals.
---
Division Nine: Elder Bai Qie – Formation Hall
Bai Qie waited at the core formation hub, smiling.
"Come in," he invited. "Don't mind the... show."
His enemies found themselves inside a bizarre illusion: a theater stage. They began to dance uncontrollably, then sing, then tear their own limbs in forced performances. Wai Jun, son of Huo Liang, was among them, dancing until he bled.
"Bravo," Bai Qie clapped. "Encore?"
---
Division Ten: Sect Leader Yuan Xian vs. the Half-God
The Half-God landed at the summit, finally facing someone worthy.
"You are the only threat," he said, stepping forward. "This will be swift."
Yuan Xian said nothing. He simply unsheathed his blade.
The battle erupted like a volcano. Mountains split. Skies warped. Lightning spiraled from the heavens. The very land trembled beneath their power.
But Yuan Xian held steady. For every divine strike, he countered with masterful technique and brute force. Their clash was so immense that even distant planets felt its echoes.
And still... Yuan Xian had not revealed his full strength.
---
Back at the Main Hall
Elder Yun Yi stood quietly, watching through crystal mirrors. Behind his emotionless gaze was a storm of thought.
They see only a portion of what we truly are, he mused. Let that be enough.
The Celestial Sect had revealed only the surface of its depth, yet the invaders were already crumbling.
The enemies came seeking blood, but they found history. Power. Legacy.
And death.