Alex''s gaze locked onto Han Fei, both of his arms were gone.
Blood soaked his robes, but it wasn''t pouring anymore. One of hispanions had already struck several pressure points along his shoulders, sealing the flow.
Another disciple knelt nearby, carefully holding the severed arms, channeling inner energy into them, preserving what life remained in the flesh.
They all knew—if treated fast enough, the arms could still be reattached.
Silence hung heavy in the air.
Then Alex moved.
"You," he said, pointing at a nearby disciple. "Give me your disciple medallion."
The disciple froze, fear shing across his face. “I—I don''t have enough merit points," he stammered. "Please... don''t take mine..."
Alex let out a cold, humorlessugh. “Who said anything about taking it from you?" The tension broke-but only slightly.
"I heard it costs one thousand merit points to reattach a single arm," Alex continued, his tone t, almost indifferent.
"I''ll pay two thousand to have both his arms treated,” Alex said, his voice steady, almost indifferent. "And another thousand... topensate for what he lost in the library."
A ripple of shock spread through the crowd.
Three thousand merit points.
That wasn''t generosity. That was dominance.
The disciple stared at him, stunned, then hurriedly handed over the medallion. The moment Alex touched it, a faint glow flickered-points transferring in an instant.
Three thousand.
Done.
Without another word, Alex let the medallion drop back into the disciple''s trembling hands. Then he flicked the sword away. It struck the ground with a sharp, biting sound, the de sinking into the earth.
He didn''t look back.
He simply turned and walked away.
The crowd parted immediately, instinctively, as if pushed aside by an invisible force. No one dared stand in his way. No one even breathed too loudly.
Behind him, Han Fei''s voice tore through the air.
"This isn''t over!" he shouted, his face twisted in pain and fury. "I''ll report this to the Elder! You attacked me you cut off both my arms! You''ll be expelled for this!"
Alex didn''t stop.
“Yes,” he said, his voice drifting back, calm and almost bored. "Please do."
“Tell him to throw me out of this ce. I''m already sick of it... especially seeing people like you calling yourselves disciples."
"I''d be d to leave."
"You-!" Han Fei''s voice cracked, trembling with rage. "Just wait!"
But Alex was already gone.
Gone as if he had never been there at all.
A sudden stillness swept across the courtyard.
Then-
An old man appeared.
No one saw him arrive. One moment the space was empty, the next he was standing there, hands sped behind his back, eyes deep and unreadable. Recognition spread like wildfire.
“Peak Leader!” voices whispered, then rose as one. Everyone bowed deeply, heads lowered in respect.
The Thousand Herbs Peak Leader didn''t answer.
His gaze lingered in the distance—where Alex''s figure had already vanished.
He had heard everything.
Every word. Every action.
A rare talent.
Dangerously rare.
If such a man turned against the Wudang Sect...
...it wouldn''t just be a loss.
It would be a disaster.
"Peak Leader!"
Han Fei dropped to his knees, his voice trembling with urgency and pain. "Please, you must give me justice! That new outer disciple attacked me he cut off both my arms!"
Tears streamed down his face.
"I beg you give me justice!"
The Peak Leader slowly turned his gaze toward him.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, in a voice as calm as still water, he said:
"You struck him fifty times."
His eyes sharpened.
"He struck you once."
"And you still dare to ask me for justice?"
"That''s a lie!" Han Fei shouted, his voice hoarse but defiant. "I never hit him even
once! He''s the one who attacked me!"
The crowd shifted uneasily.
The Peak Leader didn''t move. His gaze stayed calm-too calm.
"You lost to him-miserably," he said, each word slow and deliberate. "And then you gathered a crowd... demanded ten thousand merit points... and even one of his arms."
A faint shake of his head.
"And you call that justice?"
Han Fei''s expression twisted. "Peak Leader..... he humiliated me. I deservepensation—for my dignity."
The words barely left his mouth before the air turned cold.
“Han Fei,” the Peak Leader said, his tone dropping, heavy with quiet authority. "Because your uncle is an Elder, you''ve grown arrogant."
"You unt your status. You manipte others. You use his name to extort your fellow disciples." His eyes narrowed. "This isn''t the first time."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"You''ve escaped punishment again and again,” he continued, "only because of who stands behind you."
Han Fei clenched his jaw, his voice tight with defiance. "I''m telling the truth, Peak Leader!"
Silence followed.
Then the Peak Leader stepped forward.
"I watched you," he said,. "On the second floor. I saw you strike him again and
again."
"Fifty times."
"So tell me... are you saying what I saw... was a lie.”
Han Fei''s face drained of color.
He hadn''t known.
Hadn''t even imagined...
...someone was watching.
"This isn''t your first offense," the Peak Leader continued. "You''ve caused chaos
before. Driven good disciples out of Wudang."
“All because you hide behind your uncle''s authority.”
"You are destroying the very people who still believe in this sect,” he said. “Breaking
itsws. Corrupting its foundation."
He stopped beside the sword, its de still stabbed into the ground.
"For that," he said quietly, "I will give you justice."
The sword vanished.
No one saw how.
One blink-it was there.
The next-
Gone.
Then-
It reappeared, driven back into the ground, exactly where it had been—like it had
never moved at all.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Han Fei stood there, frozen, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open-
as if trying to speak.
Then-
A thin red line appeared across his neck.
Time slowed.
His head tilted.
Slid.
And fell.
It hit the ground with a dull, final sound.
The courtyard erupted into silence so deep it felt suffocating.
No one breathed.
No one moved.
The Peak Leader had just beheaded him.
Effortlessly.
The Peak Leader turned his gaze-cold, sharp, absolute toward the thirty disciples
who hade with Han Fei.
"You," he said.
His voice alone made their knees buckle.
"You followed him without question. Without thought. Without knowing right from
wrong."
"All of you deserve to die."
Panic exploded.
The thirty disciples dropped to their knees as one, their faces pale, their bodies
trembling.
"Peak Leader-please!"
"We didn''t know! Han Fei lied to us!"
"Please forgive us!"
"We thought we were helping him!"
Their voices ovepped, desperate, breaking.
Fear filled the air like smoke.
They finally understood.
Toote.
The Peak Leader let out a cold snort.
"Forgive you?" he said.
His gaze swept over them like a de.
"For having no mind of your own?"
"Fine, I''ll give you a choice."
"Go to that man-Jun Jiu. Take Han Fei''s head with you. Return every merit point you extorted."
"If he forgives you, then you live."
"If he doesn''t..." his gaze swept over them like a de, "then I will personally take
each of your heads."
The words dropped like a sentence from heaven.
All thirty disciples went pale.
In that moment, they finally understood.
Han Fei hadn''t offended just anyone.
He had provoked someone... far beyond their reach.
"Go. Now!"
The Peak Leader''s voice thundered across the courtyard.
They scrambled to their feet, bodies shaking, and began to move-fast,
desperate, almost tripping over themselves to escape.
"Stop."
Themand snapped through the air.
All thirty froze instantly.
"Someone," the Peak Leader said coldly, "pick up Han Fei''s head."
"...Yes."
One disciple forced himself back,
One ambling as he bent down
hands
his
He swallowed hard, then lifted the severed head from the ground, trying not to look at the lifeless eyes.
Then they ran.
Not walked.
Ran.
Fear drove them forward like a storm at their backs.
The courtyard fell silent again.
The Peak Leader let out a long breath, his expression unreadable.
"That man... Jun Jiu," he murmured. "Too kind."
He nced at the blood-stained ground.
"He only cut off two arms... and even paid to have them restored."
A faint shake of his head.
"A man like that... won''t survive long in this world if he stays that soft.”
A figure appeared beside him without warning.
The Sect Master.
"You killed Han Fei," the Sect Master said lightly. "Aren''t you afraid his uncle will
The Peak Leader let out a shortugh.
"I dared to do it," he replied, "because I trust you."
His eyes flicked sideways.
"If that Elder dares to touch your disciple... you''ll take his head as well."
The Sect Master smiled.
"Fair enough."
Far from the courtyard, the thirty disciples finally slowed, breathless, their hearts still
pounding.
One of them suddenly raised his hand.
"Stop!"
They all halted, turning toward him in confusion.
"What now?" someone snapped.
The disciple hesitated, then asked the question no one wanted to face.
"...Does anyone know where Jun Jiu lives?"
Silence.
Their expressions shifted—from fear... to something worse.
Realization.
"I... I only heard his name," one of them said weakly. "Jun Jiu..."
Another disciple''s eyes widened. “Wait... Jun Jiu? Isn''t he the one who took first
ce? The top disciple?"
A chill ran through the group.
"No wonder the Peak Leader sided with him..."
“Damn it.....” someone muttered. “Han Fei really picked the wrong person to mess
with."
One of the disciples suddenly spat on Han Fei''s severed head.
"You dragged all of us into this mess he snarled, his voice
with anger Dying like that, wamet
easy for you. Damn it!"
too.
“So?” another said, voice tight. "Does anyone know where he actually stays?"
They looked at each other.
No one answered.
No one knew.
Panic crept in again.
"Our lives are on the line," one of them said, his voice shaking. “Think! Please!"
"Ask your friends!"
"Anyone just ask!"
They scattered slightly, pulling outmunication talismans, whispering urgently,
reaching out to anyone they could.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
One by one, they lowered their hands.
Faces pale.
Eyes hollow.
"No one knows..."
"How is that possible?"
"A disciple that strong... and no one knows where he lives?"
The wind brushed past them, cold and empty.
The thirty disciples stood there, frozen in ce-Han Fei''s severed head still in their
hands-
and for the first time since all of this began...
They truly felt despair.