"I once stood at the Seventh Realm, the Palm Mystic Realm."
Han Zhen spoke calmly, his hands clasped behind his back.
The Palm Mystic Realm was nearly the pinnacle of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.
Any faction without a Palm Mystic expert could never be considered transcendent.
One who reached this realm need not bow before emperors, and merely by registering with the imperial court, they could enjoy privileges akin to those of nobility.
His voice, brimming with grandeur, echoed through the palace halls.
Ying Bing remained as cold and indifferent as ever.
The reactions of these two youths were far from what he had anticipated.
No shock, no awe, no ecstatic delight.
The Qingyuan Sect had declined to such a pitiful state.
The strongest cultivator they had ever encountered, Shangguan Wencang, was merely at the Fifth Realm, the Outer Scenery.
"In the Eastern Barren Domain, you are little more than frogs at the bottom of a well."
Han Zhen suppressed his impatience and straightened his posture slightly.
"Only when you reach the Fourth Realm, the Inner Scenery, will you realize that standing before me is like a mayfly beholding the vast heavens."
His words carried an unshakable confidence and majesty.
Yet once again, his grand proclamation fell flat.
To be fair, Li Mo thought Han Zhen's ability to spin grand promises was rather lacking—too straightforward, not the least bit professional.
He had a few suggestions, though he wasn't sure if he should voice them...
Han Zhen studied the two unimpressed youths and narrowed his eyes in approval.
"The two of you possess remarkable composure—a sign of those destined for greatness."
"Very well, I shall speak plainly."
"I am no ordinary Palm Mystic. Millennia ago, I served as the Imperial Preceptor of Great Shang, reigning supreme across the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths for thousands of years."
"With my guidance, you will undoubtedly ascend to the Seventh Realm."
"Divine techniques, peerless arts, rare treasures—countless wonders you’ve never even glimpsed in Qingyuan Sect—will be yours for the taking."
His voice vibrated through the air, each word laced with an almost hypnotic allure.
Han Zhen believed he had shown more than enough sincerity.
In all his millennia of existence, he had never wasted so much effort on persuasion.
The pale golden skeleton of a Palm Mystic expert suddenly rose to its feet.
At its heart pulsed an eerie crimson glow, throbbing faintly. As it beat, blood-red patterns spread across the bones, forming intricate mystical inscriptions.
An overwhelming, terrifying aura surged forth.
This was both a display of power—and a threat.
"You’ve reduced the Blood Phoenix Essence to such a sorry state."
Ying Bing frowned slightly.
Han Zhen’s eyelids twitched, and a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
Li Mo pondered for a moment before asking,
"Your grand scheme—could it be overthrowing Great Yu and restoring Great Shang?"
Han Zhen seemed surprised but did not deny it.
Li Mo cleared his throat and added,
"How about this? I have modest resources of my own. Why not sell me the Blood Phoenix Essence?"
"Then we can each go our separate ways. What do you say?"
Han Zhen nearly laughed in exasperation, his expression darkening completely.
Behind him, the faint silhouette of a bronze divine tree materialized.
After revealing so many secrets, did they truly believe they could walk away unscathed?
"Wild colts are hard to tame. In my youth, I was just as unruly as you."
"Then allow me to show you firsthand the meaning of... despair!"
As he spoke, his body began to dissolve, melting into a river of blood.
The ground seeped crimson, flooding the palace in a churning tide that boiled under the divine tree’s radiance.
Far stronger than any Outer Scenery cultivator they had ever encountered.
The blood river surged, roaring toward them.
But in a flash of radiant light, sword energy rained down like a storm, freezing the tide solid.
"You possess the Aurora Phoenix Qi? No wonder..."
Han Zhen was stunned—and covetous.
Li Mo whipped out a hammer, cutting him off mid-sentence.
With a single swing, he shattered the frozen blood river into fragments.
He had been observing the blood tide closely, searching for Han Zhen’s true form—so he could land a solid eighty-pound strike.
Sword energy crisscrossed, hammer winds howled, and the blood river churned violently.
The palace trembled under the relentless clash.
Han Zhen grew increasingly alarmed.
Both Ying Bing and Li Mo were far stronger than he had anticipated!
One wielded radiant Aurora Phoenix Qi, her swordplay defying the heavens, her aura icy and lethal.
The other possessed monstrous strength, his destructive power even surpassing hers.
He had to admit—even one-on-one, against either of them, victory was far from guaranteed.
Facing both at once? Despite his millennia of accumulated power and the blood river at his command, defeat was only a matter of time.
"To force me to this extent, you two are truly exceptional."
"But... this is my domain!"
Crimson array lines lit up across the ground, greedily absorbing the blood.
The thick, metallic stench of blood surged into the skeleton’s heart, where the Blood Phoenix Essence pulsed with increasing brilliance.
Flesh and sinew began to regrow, swiftly forming a human body—one resembling the blood-robed youth but older, bearing Han Zhen’s middle-aged visage.
The middle-aged Han Zhen stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his younger self, their auras merging seamlessly.
A wisp of Palm Mystic pressure saturated every corner of the world!
The blood river split, dividing the battlefield.
Separated, Ying Bing glanced toward Li Mo’s direction but saw no trace of the young man.
"So Qingyuan Sect’s hidden fortune was the Aurora Phoenix Qi."
Above her, the middle-aged Han Zhen burned with greed. This was a treasure beyond measure.
If he could claim it alongside the Blood Phoenix Essence, not only would he regain his peak strength—he might even ascend to the legendary Eighth Realm!
Whether Ying Bing submitted or not, he would seize the Aurora Phoenix Qi.
"The might of a Palm Mystic—how dare you refuse to kneel?"
The Blood Phoenix Essence pulsed rhythmically, each beat thunderous and potent.
With every throb, the Palm Mystic’s pressure intensified.
If he could absorb enough lifeblood, reviving this Palm Mystic corpse in full was not impossible.
Ying Bing’s response left him utterly confounded:
"You’re weaker than last time."
Her gaze was icy, laced with disdain—as if he were nothing but a pitiful, clinging wretch.
Just as he prepared to unleash a sliver of Palm Mystic power to crush her—
The Blood Phoenix Essence convulsed violently.
This time, it broke free from his control.
Han Zhen’s eyes bulged in horror.
But he was powerless to stop it.
The artifact that had sustained him for millennia, the foundation of his resurgence, transformed into a crimson phoenix silhouette.
Like a swallow returning to its nest, it soared into Ying Bing’s brow—and began to burn.
"The Blood Phoenix Essence was never meant to be used as you did."
Cloaked in blazing phoenix feathers, Ying Bing’s gaze remained serene, yet now radiated an imperious, domineering light.
True Phoenix Blood Incineration Art!