"Kill!"

Golden drums thunder across the skies, the battlefield descends into chaos.

Swords clash at close quarters, blood spills as heaven and earth grow dim.

In the vault of the sky, two mightiest figures battle: one radiates like a purple sun, his energy spreading over a hundred-zhang radius; the other is shrouded in black clouds, surrounded by vortices of spiraling wind.

This is a clash between Song Lin and the Xianbei warrior Tuoba Ye.

Tuoba Ye is silently astounded, feeling a cold tremor in his chest—this man's strength is extraordinary, dodging every move with precision, always evading by the narrowest margin.

Initially, he thought his opponent's luck was uncanny, yet each evasion seemed calculated, deliberate, as though Song Lin was toying with him.

How could the skill gap between two Heavenly Phenomenon masters be this vast?

Could he possibly belong to the rank of a Great Venerable?

Tuoba Ye quickly dismisses the notion—if Song Lin were on that level, would the Han people ever fall to such dire straits?

In the end, severely wounded, Tuoba Ye flees.

Hovering mid-air, Song Lin lets out a knowing smile.

He's learned something new.

The cultivation techniques of this realm are rather remarkable—reaching the Heavenly Phenomenon stage, close combat abilities rival those of the Core Formation stage.

If cultivated to the highest realm, it should parallel the Purple Mansion stage.

It could be shared with ordinary mortals or servants, or even Taoist Soldiers for practice.

For a Heavenly Court, the greater the diversity in sect approaches, the better its margin for error.

Varied cultivation paths allow for higher success rates in nurturing talents under its domain—someone deemed mediocre in one path may excel in another.

With the Xianbei forces retreating, the Purple Mist Sect gradually stabilized its foothold in the region.

Following this, they defeated three waves of court troops in swift succession.

The population under their rule expanded to eighty thousand civilians, backed by thirty thousand elite soldiers.

Ning Yuan has ascended, becoming a warlord in Shenzhou's Central Plains.

Despite repeated victories against the Xianbei forces, the Southern Dynasty hasn't shown hostility— Qi Country's Emperor has instead resorted to intrigue, ceremoniously naming Ning Yuan as Duke Weii while withholding support, making no plans to coordinate efforts.

Rather, he treats Duke Weii's territory as a buffer between North and South.

"Have you given up hope? Is this the Southern Orthodoxy you revered so deeply?" Song Lin chuckles at Ning Yuan.

Ning Yuan falls silent for a long time, pensive, before his eyes harden with resolve. He turns to Song Lin with solemn conviction, saying, "Elder, I've made up my mind! I will rely on myself, and I shall crown myself king!"

Days later, Ning Yuan declares himself King Weii, breaking free from Qi Country's control.

North and South are thrown into uproar.

As turbulent undercurrents surge, the South prepares for a grand assembly.

The Nine Yang Sword Sect and Mystic Mechanism Sect co-host the Martial Arts Conference, where Southern sects will convene—a true gathering of the Jianghu elite.

West Lake.

The warm breeze intoxicates the visitors, scholars and beauties drift leisurely across the lake on boats, composing poems and reveling in delight.

By the lakeshore stands the Lake View Tower, famed as the "Number One Tower Under Heaven," exclusive to nobles, scholars, and beautiful maidens.

Of course, the most significant requirement is wealth.

Inside the tower, the hall is packed with patrons and a well-informed storyteller, eloquently recounting Jianghu anecdotes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, do you know who the top martial artists in Jianghu are?"

"What a question! Surely, it's the Xianbei Great Venerable, with breathtaking martial prowess."

"And beneath the Venerable?"

"Tuoba Ye, Tuoba Hui, and Yuwen Long—three Heavenly Phenomenon masters. Below them, naturally, are our Shenzhou's warriors, like the half-step Heavenly Phenomenon expert Zhang Jianshou of the Nine Yang Sword Sect, Master Feng of the Mystic Mechanism Sect, Elder Wang of the Lii Fire Sect, among other sect leaders."

Though the South lacks a Heavenly Phenomenon powerhouse, it boasts several half-step Heavenly Phenomenon figures. They may not excel in offense, but their defensive capabilities suffice.

"Wrong! Beneath the Great Venerable is our Han hero, Song Lin, celebrated as the Purple Mist Real Man—a man who slew Yuwen Mu and routed Tuoba Ye, even earning the Xianbei's begrudging reverence."

At these words, the crowd erupts in discussion, disbelief abounding, while a select few who are more informed remain unsurprised—after all, they've long been aware of this news.

"If he's Han, why doesn't he return to the South?"

"Why don't you lead an expedition North, then?"

"Ha! Exactly! What a joke! Cowards, the lot of them. I swear, if Black Wind Village entire decides to join Duke Weii tomorrow, we'll see real guts."

"You're bold only with your words—why don't you go fight the Xianbei yourself?"

The hall is filled with Jianghu folks, tempestuous and hot-tempered, almost sparking a brawl then and there.

Establishment disciples of prominent sects mostly disapprove of aiding Duke Weii, but many wandering heroes and warriors express solidarity, vowing to march North, thwart the captors, and reclaim their homeland.

Amid the chatter, seated by the window is a young nobleman with a faint smile. A diminutive maiden who appears to be his servant giggles, saying, "Master, they're speaking about you."

The two are none other than Song Lin and Ning Fu.

With idle time, Song Lin has ventured South, seeking worthy individuals to enlighten—those capable of recognizing a True Immortal when they meet one.

Let's hope they fare better than the Eight Immortal World's Yueyang people, who failed to acknowledge him even after three encounters, unable to grasp his vision of spreading the Taoist doctrine.

Soon, government officials arrive, clearing idle guests from the premises. Only martial arts heroes and distinguished nobles remain.

By the West Lake, the venue is prepared, sect Hall Masters, administrators, and others steadily arrive.

Next, the eight sect leaders of the South descend from the skies, eliciting a thunderous wave of cheers and admiration.

Quickly, the disciples begin their duels.

"Small temples breed large chaos." Ning Fu chuckles, covering her mouth.

"Fu'er, go and disrupt their competition. Defeat their sect leaders in the end."

"Me? I can't, I'm only Sixth-rank."

"You can. Take this pill and you'll manage."

Song Lin produces a violet Golden Core and slips it into Ning Fu's mouth, grabbing her wrist to infuse her with a burst of mana, then tosses her forcefully forward.

The purple pill acts as an artificial energy source in her Dantian, the True Qi recently infused coursing through her meridians to guide its flow.

It serves as a temporary substitute for a cultivated Dantian, its potency sufficient for three continuous days and nights.

"Hey, hey..."

Caught off guard, Ning Fu finds herself propelled onto the stage platform.

"All of you come at once, I don't have time to waste."

Song Lin mimics Ning Fu's voice as he utters this declaration.

"Ah, Master..."

"Such arrogance!"

Before Ning Fu can say a word, the crowd swarms toward her. Her reflexes kick in as she swings her sword forcefully, breaking an opponent's treasure sword and sending him flying dozens of meters.

"To your left, the right, aim for his lower strike..."

With Song Lin covertly guiding her movements through transmissions, Ning Fu tactically subdues disciple after disciple, leaving them utterly defeated.

"Where did this wild girl come from!"

The Heavenly Blade Sect Leader descends, his blade sweeping in a deadly arc that spans dozens of meters—the strike aimed to kill.

Ning Fu counters with a palm strike, releasing a haze of purple True Qi that repels the Heavenly Blade Sect Leader.

"Such potent Inner Strength! Filled with demon-like energy—clearly a northern infiltrator here to stir trouble. Everyone, attack together!"

All eight sect leaders unite in combat against Ning Fu. Though she fends them off expertly, it's evident that the borrowed power isn't entirely her own—gradually, she begins to falter.

Even so, to stand alone against eight sect leaders is a feat that has already stunned the onlookers beyond imagination.

Boom!

Just then, a burst of energy splits the combatants apart.

Song Lin leaps out from the skylight.

"You are?" Master Feng from Mystic Mechanism Sect asks, puzzled.

Ning Fu retreats to Song Lin's side, revealing her alliance with this formidable presence.

"Song Lin!"

At his name, the gathering erupts into shock.

This is none other than the renowned Han Celestial Phenomenon.

His prowess needs no introduction—a maid under his command shows such might; what then of the man himself?

"What business do you have here? We don't welcome you," Master Feng says coldly.

As representatives of Southern sects, their instinct is to resist Northern elite dominance.

South belongs to its people, North to its own—they prioritize their sect's interests above external ventures. Why labor to help someone reclaim distant lands?

"I don't need your aid. I've come today with only a simple question: who among you is willing to march North with me?"

The disciples of the Eight Great Sects lower their heads in silence; the sect leaders remain taciturn.

"I!"

"I, Groundbreaker, am willing!"

"Black Wind Village is willing!"

"I, Mang Jinkang, am ready to go!"

"Iron Palm Sect will march forward!"

Many Northern sects and lone warriors step forward, numbering several hundred in total.

"Excellent. My thanks to all!"

With a grand wave of his hand, Song Lin summons violet clouds from his True Qi to carry the group away, vanishing into the distance.

Leaving behind the stunned Southern cultivators.

What powerful True Qi!

Among the ethereal clouds, Song Lin gazes at the group, reflecting to himself.

In the Heavenly Court ahead, those chosen to ascend as Immortals would likely emerge from this crowd.

They are bound for an unprecedented realm of fantasy.

Such is the reward for having the vision to recognize a True Immortal.

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