The sun dipped low over the canyon, spilling molten gold across jagged cliffs. Kaelen Viremont’s white robes caught the light, gleaming so brightly he seemed less a man, more a young immortal walking on sunlight itself. Each step on the canyon floor carried quiet authority. The world bent subtly to his presence, though beneath that effortless grace lay an ancient solitude—a weight born of countless battles, past failures, and the venom still pumping through his veins.
The Creation Divine Art pulsed relentlessly inside him, assimilating the demonic essence of the Venomous Mad Python. In just half a day, Kaelen had shattered two bottlenecks, reaching the pinnacle of the Ninth Heaven of the True Martial Realm. Each heartbeat sounded like thunder through the canyon. Mortals would have bowed—or fled.
From the shadowed cave behind him, Seraphina stirred. She stepped into the fading light just as Kaelen paused, framed against the fiery sky. Breath caught. So radiant. So otherworldly. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, unwilling to disturb the vision.
“You’re awake?” Kaelen’s voice cut across the canyon—calm, firm. His eyes softened as he approached. “These past days… they must have been hard on you.”
Seraphina met his gaze, determined despite grime and exhaustion. “For my brother in gratitude, Seraphina will do anything,” she said firmly.
Kaelen arched a brow. “Brother in gratitude?”
“My name is Kaelen,” he corrected gently, a faint smile brushing his lips.
“I’m Seraphina,” she said, extending her hand. “Then from now on… you’ll be Seraphina’s Brother Kaelen.”
Before he could respond, a sharp voice rang through the canyon.
“Ninth Princess. I’ve finally found you.”
Seraphina’s head snapped toward the sound. Recognition lit her eyes. “Sister Fianna!”
From the canyon mouth, a tall, poised figure emerged, draped in flowing crimson. Her gown clung to a flawless form; long black hair fell like ink. Eyes sharp as tempered steel, radiating a weight few could bear. Even Kaelen, at his peak, felt it—a subtle prickling of aura, quiet but terrifying.
Fianna’s steps were confident as she approached, taking Seraphina’s hand. Her gaze shifted to Kaelen. “Who are you? Why are you so close to the Ninth Princess?”
Seraphina spoke quickly, cheeks flushed. “Sister Fianna, you’re mistaken. Brother Kaelen is my lifesaving benefactor.”
Fianna’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of unreadable thought passing through them. She said nothing further, turning away with Seraphina in hand.
“Brother Kaelen, I’ll go with Sister Fianna first! I live in the Eldravan imperial palace—don’t forget to visit!” Seraphina’s words rang out, urgent and playful. In an instant, Fianna’s figure lifted gracefully into the night sky, vanishing beyond sight.
Kaelen’s brow furrowed. True flight. To achieve it in martial cultivation required surpassing the True Martial Realm, Spirit, Sky, and Divine Martial Realms—reaching the legendary Titled Martial Realm. Fianna alone spoke of mastery beyond imagination.
Back in the cave, Kaelen allowed a moment of quiet. His gaze fell on the clay pot of herbs and the torn fabric Seraphina had used to bind his leg. A small, warm smile tugged at his lips. “Seraphina…”
On the dry grass lay a worn, leather-bound manual and a folded note, written in elegant handwriting:
"Brother in gratitude, this ‘Ancient Dragon Elephant Fist’ is one of the Eldravan royal family’s three great martial inheritances, a Heaven-rank combat art. I wish to give it to you; do not refuse. It is but a small token of my gratitude."
Kaelen’s eyes gleamed. A Heaven-rank martial art—rarer and more powerful than Yellow, Profound, or Earth ranks. Instinct warned him: treasure and danger were inseparable. He tucked the manual into his robes and glanced at the ink-dark sky.
Fianna appeared again, crimson gown catching faint starlight. Her aura radiated the overwhelming presence of a Titled Martial Realm master. Behind her, a blazing phoenix of pure flame unfurled its wings, its cry shattering the night. The cave glowed like noon under its radiance.
Kaelen met her gaze evenly. “Senior Fianna, what brings you back so suddenly?”
“You’re calm,” she observed, a faint smile brushing her lips. Her storage ring shimmered, producing a vermilion brocade box that landed at his feet.
Kaelen frowned. “And this?”
“That girl’s identity is more complicated than the Ninth Princess of Eldravan,” Fianna said coldly. “Stay away from her. Do not ruin her future. Ignore my warning at your peril.” She glanced at the box. “Inside is a Heaven-rank pill—enough to live comfortably in a small place like Ebonvale Prefecture City. Anything else… forget it. For someone like you, leaping the dragon gate is a childish dream.”
Fianna vanished, leaving Kaelen with the silent cave and the artifact of temptation.
Instead of yielding, Kaelen laughed, sharp and cutting through the night.
“What’s so amusing?” Fianna’s voice echoed back, taut with caution.
“You understand neither friendship nor loyalty,” Kaelen said coldly. “Some bonds cannot be replaced by treasure.”
With a single step, he crushed the brocade box beneath his boot. The Heaven-rank pill turned to dust, useless.
Fianna’s eyes widened, killing intent surging. “You—”
“You what?” Kaelen’s voice thundered. “Who are you to decide another’s fate? Stop talking and fight if you want me dead!”
The air trembled. A vast, unyielding battle aura erupted from Kaelen, slicing the heavens. Behind him, the colossal Creation Furnace appeared, radiating abyssal darkness, a devouring power few could withstand.
A cry split the night. Fianna’s Fire Phoenix Martial Soul, proud and regal, quivered, wings shivering against the darkness.
“You… awakened a Martial Soul?” Fianna’s voice trembled. Only those of supreme talent or ancient bloodlines could wield such power—and Kaelen’s presence proved it.
Her icy composure returned. “Impressive, but meaningless. Your cultivation is shallow. Compared to true geniuses, you are still a lifetime behind.”
“My path is mine alone,” Kaelen replied, steady and unwavering. “Not yours to judge.”
She turned, crimson gown a streak across the horizon, leaving him alone with the Ancient Dragon Elephant Fist manual and memories of Seraphina’s care.
A faint grin curved his lips. “My future… is mine to decide.”
Three days later, the roar of his strikes shook the canyon. Behind him, the phantom of a colossal dragon-elephant rose, tusks like mountains, its roar thunderous. Mountains crumbled beneath his fists, each strike fueled by mastery of Dragon Elephant Power.
Three strands now coiled within him, multiplying destruction exponentially. One dragon-elephant, ten, a hundred—the power knew no ceiling. His Creation Divine Art ensured no limit remained.
The canyon wind whispered around him, carrying dust and stone. Seven days had passed since Fianna’s departure. Each strand of Dragon Elephant Power pulsed, eager, awaiting release. If Fianna returned now, she might not dare speak as before.
Kaelen’s eyes gleamed. Ahead lay limitless potential, unbound by realm or rule. Ahead lay the path he alone would carve.

Latest Chapter
Chapter 067: Envy
The air above the Outer Sect training grounds felt almost electric. Tension clung to every breath, every heartbeat. Disciples from every corner had gathered, eyes wide, chests tight, breaths shallow. They weren’t here for the usual sparring matches or the minor tests. No. They were here for Vaelin.A stunned murmur rippled through the crowd.“This new disciple… he can actually fly without a spirit artifact?” one whispered, disbelief heavy in their voice.“By sheer strength alone… suspended in midair! That’s Titled Martial Realm level!” another replied, jaw tight, eyes practically popping.A few older disciples murmured, recognition dawning like lightning. “I know that black-robed boy. We took the servant disciple entrance test together… Who would’ve guessed he’d rise this fast?”Shock spread like wildfire. Every gaze snapped to Vaelin. Black robes billowed gently as he hovered above the ground. Calm. Commanding. Eerie in his stillness, yet undeniably powerful. A soft breeze lifted his
Chapter 066: Like Ants
Clang!Kaelen’s hand shot forward slowly, deliberately. In an instant, it gleamed silver, as if forged from pure steel. Raw power radiated off it, an aura so hard, so unyielding, it made the air itself tremble. Before Grimveil could even react, Kaelen’s silver hand clamped down on his fingers.Grimveil froze. The arrogance drained from his face, leaving him pale, ashen.“What?!”A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Grimveil—fifth among the Outer Hall’s Top Ten—restrained so effortlessly by a newcomer? Impossible. Shock painted every face.Serenya Vale, still blocking Darius, froze mid-step. Her expression stiffened. She hadn’t expected this black-robed youth to wield such overwhelming strength. They had all written him off. A shadow. A nobody. Their goal? Humiliate Darius.Now, that illusion was shattered.Grimveil’s face twisted in rage. Veins bulged. “Brat! Let go of me!”Kaelen’s eyes flickered with lethal intent. His voice cut the tense air like steel.“Let go? And when yo
Chapter 065: Grimveil
Kaelen’s gaze swept over the two girls before him. Their eyes—wide, sparkling, expectant—challenged him silently, begging for more. He couldn’t help but let a faint, amused smile tug at his lips.“You two… your curiosity really has no limits,” he murmured, shaking his head.He was just about to reveal that he’d broken through to the One-Step Martial King realm when footsteps echoed nearby. Darius appeared, robes fluttering, each step measured, deliberate.The last time Kaelen had saved him, gratitude had dug deep roots in Darius’s heart. Bowing respectfully, he clasped his fists.“Brother Kaelen,” he began cautiously, “during this time Arwyn has been with you… I hope she hasn’t caused too much trouble?”“Cousin, what are you saying? Calling me a little girl? I’m sixteen now! I’ve grown up!” Arwyn rolled her eyes dramatically, slipping to Kaelen’s side and looping her slender, lotus-white arm through his.“Brother Kaelen,” she said, leaning close, eyes sparkling with mischief, “tell hi
Chapter 064: Outer Sect Grand Competition
The Spirit Tower pulsed with energy—dense, almost tangible, as if the very essence of the world had condensed within its walls. Kael felt it seep into his bones, threading through every fiber of his being, urging him forward, whispering promises of power.As expected of the Shadowfang Sect, the premier sect of the Eldravan Empire, extravagance was everywhere. Towering Spirit Towers sprawled across the sect grounds, each a crucible for disciples seeking refinement. But entry wasn’t free—contribution points were required. The sect didn’t hand out power on a silver platter.Kael had spent the past month wisely. Treasures from his recent journey had been exchanged for points—enough to grant him a full month inside a Spirit Tower for secluded cultivation.Inside that sanctum, he abandoned all mortal distractions. The vital energy around him pressed thick and solid, like a boundless ocean trying to drown him—but Kael thrived in it. His Creation Furnace devoured the surrounding essence, gold
Chapter 063: Spirit Tower
Darius had met Kael once before—back when the Shadowfang Sect was recruiting menial disciples. It was nothing more than a brief encounter, a nod, a courteous greeting, all courtesy of his cousin, Arwyn.But now… seeing what had just happened, Darius could barely wrap his head around it. Kael—the same young man—had just saved them from Merrick, a man wielding a magical artifact of insane power. That level of strength? Far beyond Darius. Way beyond.Overwhelmed with gratitude, Darius clasped his hands together and bowed slightly. “Many thanks, Brother Kael, for saving us.” His voice carried sincerity, a tone that demanded it be heard.Then, he let out a long, heavy sigh. “I’ve always prided myself as one of the top ten outer disciples, thinking my skills were something… but compared to real experts? I’m nothing. Worthless. Like… trash.”Kael inclined his head, remaining calm and collected. “Only true power decides everything,” he said, voice quiet but carrying a weight you couldn’t igno
Chapter 062: Magical Artifact
“Boom!”Merrick Drovane slammed every ounce of his true vital energy into the small silver hammer in his hand. Power surged through his veins, thrumming like a wild drum. The artifact trembled, reacting to the force coursing through it.“Buzz!”The energy exploded outward, and the hammer—no, the tiny tool in his palm—began to grow. Faster than anyone could follow, it swelled monstrously. Within seconds, it towered dozens of meters above the ground, glinting like a silver mountain dropped straight from the heavens.“Boom!”It crashed downward. Grimveil froze. Arwyn shivered violently. Only now did she truly grasp the devastation aimed at her cousin.She felt small. Insignificant. Like an ant clinging to the base of an unforgiving mountain. Every heartbeat screamed helplessness. Despair clawed at her chest.“Clang!”Then, impossibly, Grimveil stretched out a single hand. Palm flat. He pressed against the colossal hammer—and held it. Just like that. As if it were no more than a feather.
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