Finick’s POV

Finick wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished explaining the formation to the last group of disciples. Two days of nonstop drills had everyone on edge, waiting for the inevitable retaliation from the Moon God Sect. The tension hung thick in the air, like a heavy fog before a storm.

"I still say we should have just kept our heads down," Elder Balthus grumbled. "No good ever came from poking a dragon."

Finick shot the old man a sharp look. Balthus had been a thorn in his father's side for years, always questioning his decisions, undermining his authority. If only Finick could expel the troublesome fossil - but an Early Nascent Soul elder was not so easily cast aside.

"Enough of that coward talk!" Elder Jayna snapped. "We've been under the Moon God Sect's boot for too long. It's high time we stood up for ourselves!" A fiery glint entered her eyes as she turned to face the disciples. "Not like that coward Ignius, content to lick the Moon God Sect's boots..."

Finick felt his ears burn. While he appreciated Jayna's support, did she have to disparage his late father in the process? The man had done his best in an impossible situation.

The disciples huddled in nervous clumps, whispering amongst themselves.

"Who do you think that mysterious expert was? The one who killed the Moon God elder?"

"I heard he's a rogue cultivator, come to destroy the sects!"

"No, no, he's a hidden master, here to guide us to glory!"

"I heard he's an Outsider! Came from beyond the Northern Wastes to stir up trouble!"

"Don't be stupid, an Outsider would never risk going against the Moon God Sect..."

The wild speculation and bickering flared, growing louder and more agitated by the second. Finick watched the rising chaos with a sinking feeling in his gut.

They're scared, he realized. They're looking for anything to latch onto, any scrap of hope or intrigue to distract from the danger ahead. I need to get them focused, united. I need to lead.

Squaring his shoulders, Finick gathered his qi and released a wave of Early Nascent Soul aura, letting it wash over the courtyard like a crashing wave. The babble died instantly as every eye turned to him, wide and startled.

Project confidence, Alfie's advice echoed in his mind. Even if you don't feel it, make them believe it. That's what a real Sect Master does.

Finick took a deep breath, and forced his voice to come out strong and steady. "I know you have questions about Senior Alfie," Finick said, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I understand your suspicion. But consider this - a cultivator of his level has no need for a sect like ours. He has gifted us with treasures and knowledge, asking nothing in return. If we repay his generosity with ingratitude, then we have only ourselves to blame when he withdraws his support."

The elders' eyes widened, no doubt recalling the ease with which Alfie had dispatched the Moon God elder. A few disciples gulped audibly.

Finick pressed on, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. "With Senior Alfie as our patron, we have nothing to fear - not even the Moon God S–"

"Is that so?" a voice cut through Finick's speech like a bolt of icy lightning. The words seemed to shake the very heavens, reverberating through the courtyard with unnatural force.

Finick's head snapped up. Hovering above the sect grounds was a figure that appeared no older than a child of ten. But the sheer pressure emanating from his little form left no doubt - this was no mere child, but an ancient master of the Origin Realm.

The figure sneered down at them, his voice echoing across the distance. "Care to repeat those words to my face?"

A gasp rippled through the crowd as they recognized the newcomer - not just an Origin Realm expert, but the Moon God Sect Master's right hand man – Orion!

Orion's cultivation was rumoured to be in the Mid-stage of the Origin Realm. An Early Origin Realm expert would fall to a cultivator of Orion’s level nine times out of ten. It would be like an amateur challenging a seasoned gladiator. Against such an opponent, what hope did they have?

Finick felt his knees tremble as Orion casually tapped the purple barrier that sprang up around the sect.

Orion clicked his tongue. "Tsk. This toy might withstand three of my attacks. Maybe four. And then..." He smiled, a cold, terrifying expression. "Then you all die."

Finick felt his tongue turn to lead in his mouth, his earlier bravado withering under the crushing weight of Orion’s aura. He opened his mouth to reply, to say something, anything, but no words came out.

I can't do this, he thought desperately. I'm not ready, I'm not strong enough. Father, what would you do? What would you say to this monster in child's skin?

But his father was gone, and Finick was alone, drowning in his own inadequacy. He could feel the eyes of his sect upon him, could sense their mounting panic as they saw their leader falter.

It's over, a voice whispered in his mind. We're doomed. I've doomed us all with my arrogance, my stupidity. I should have listened to Balthus, I should have–

A hand clasped his shoulder. Firm. Reassuring.

Alfie.

Relief flooded through Finick at the sight of his mentor, standing tall and unafraid before Orion's might. With Alfie here, they had a chance. They had to.

Alfie leaned in close, his voice low and urgent. "Get the formation ready. I'll handle our guest."

Finick nodded jerkily, his brain kicking into gear. He spun to face the stunned crowd. "Elders! Disciples! Take your positions! We activate the formation on my mark!"

As the scrambled to comply, Orion's gaze locked onto Alfie, his eyes narrowing. "You! You're the one who killed an Elder from my sect? Bold of you to show your face."

"Killed one elder so far," Alfie corrected. "But don't worry, I'm always happy to add to my tally. Maybe I'll start a collection: Delusional man-children who don't know when to quit."

"You dare?" Orion hissed, his small hands clenching into fists. "You dare mock me, you insignificant worm?”

"Oh, I dare," Alfie retorted. "I dare to see you for what you are: A bully and a coward, hiding behind your master's robes. Tell me, does he let you sit on his lap during sect meetings, or do you have your own special cushion?"

Orion's face turned an interesting shade of purple. With a snarl, he thrust out his hand. The very air seemed to crystallize around him, freezing mist swirling into a perfect sphere above his palm.

Finick watched in horrified awe as the ice orb began to glow, tongues of crimson fire flickering to life within its heart. Hot and cold qi intertwined, the clashing energies contained within a prison of Orion's will.

The power radiating from that condensed sphere of elements tripped every danger sense Finick possessed. If that struck the barrier before the formation was active...

Two strikes. Maybe three. And then oblivion.

As if in slow motion, Finick saw Orion rear back his arm. The sphere rocket from his hand and struck the barrier with a blinding flash. The entire sect trembled, light skittering across the dome as it struggled to absorb the impact. For one terrifying heartbeat, the barrier flickered, guttering like a candle flame in a hurricane.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

And held. Barely.

"How much longer?" Alfie's tone was mild, as if asking about the weather rather than their imminent destruction.

Finick glanced at the elders, frantically pouring their energy into the formations. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. "A few minutes. Maybe five?"

Alfie sighed, turning back to face Orion. "Guess I'm on toddler duty till then."

Finick winced. Taunting a berserk Origin Realm expert, was that really wise? But he didn't dare question his mentor now. Not with their lives on the line.

***

Zack’s POV

Zack sighed heavily as he watched the Moon God Sect elder floating menacingly outside the barrier. If the Fiery Mist Sect disciples couldn't get the Grand Formation up in time, he would have no choice but to step in and personally hold back this Origin Realm powerhouse.

Not exactly my idea of a good time, he mused wryly. Facing down an Origin Realm powerhouse without any Critical Block Cards? Talk about feeling exposed!

He patted the storage pouch at his waist, hoping the treasures his Main Body had provided would be enough to force a stalemate, if it came to that. In theory, they should be able to deal with an Origin Realm expert. But Zack wasn't keen on testing that theory. If the enemy pulled out some kind of last-ditch, suicide move...well, Zack had no intention of being taken down with him.

Zack shook his head. Like he always said - he was far too young and pretty to die.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way," he announced, cracking his knuckles. "Fair warning, kid: I may not be able to go all out without bringing this whole mountain down on our heads...but I've got more than a few tricks up my sleeve."

"You think your parlour tricks can stand against the might of a true Origin Realm expert?" Orion spat. "I'll grind you to dust and scatter your remains across the frozen peaks!"

Alfie's grin turned sharp, predatory. "Big words, tiny terror. Let's see if you can back them up."

"Why don't you step outside that flimsy barrier, boy? We will see if you dare talk a big game then!"

Zack had to laugh at that. This arrogant little twerp really thought he could goad him into leaving the protective formation? Not a chance. The whole advantage of a sect barrier was that it stopped enemies from attacking those inside, while still allowing the defenders to project their attacks outwards. Which meant Zack could blast away at this Moon God goon to his heart's content without having to worry about a single hair on his own handsome head getting singed.

No way was he going to throw away that edge by playing the reckless hero. Maybe in cheap cultivation novels, the dashing protagonist would leap out to duel the wicked invader in honourable single combat. But this was real life. And in real life, tactically sound choices tended to trump grandstanding heroics.

Zack raised his right hand and extended his index finger, pointing it directly at Orion like the barrel of a gun.

At first, nothing happened. But then, a miniscule mote of light began to gather at the tip of Zack's finger. It swelled rapidly, enlarging from a mere pinprick to an orb the size of a melon in the span of a single breath. And yet still it continued to grow, radiating power as it ballooned to the dimensions of a small house.

Just when it seemed the sphere couldn't possibly expand any further without detonating, it suddenly stopped and began to contract, collapsing in on itself like a dying star. In a matter of moments, it had shrunk back down to a pulsing pinhead of pure energy, hovering an inch away from Zack's outstretched finger.

Orion gaped at the display, his face draining of colour faster than a Qi Refining cultivator's robes in a rainstorm. "H-how...how is this possible?" he sputtered, real fear leaking into his voice for the first time. "Your aura is only at the Core Formation realm! At best, a monstrous genius at your level could hope to defeat Nascent Soul experts. But channelling an attack with Origin Realm power? Impossible!"

Zack didn't bother to reply. Why waste time with words when he could just let his actions speak for themselves?

What Orion couldn't possibly realize was that Zack himself wasn't doing much of anything at all. The dazzling light show was entirely the work of the black ring on his index finger - a Heaven Rank treasure capable of discharging a devastating cannon blast equivalent to the full might of an Origin Realm cultivator.

Too bad it only had a limited number of uses before crumbling into worthless scrap. Actually, to be specific, the particular ring Zack currently wore was a single-shot variant. Meaning he'd have exactly one chance to ruin this Moon God Sect stooge's whole day before the powerful tool disintegrated into sparkly dust.

Ah well. If he had to burn a Heaven Rank artifact on a two-bit chump like Orion, so be it. The sheer look of pants-pissing terror the little runt would inevitably spray across his smug face would make it all worthwhile.

I guess this is what they mean when they say, ‘Pay to Win’.

"Bang," Zack whispered with a gunslinger's motion, he flicked his wrist and sent the condensed qi bullet flying straight as an arrow toward Orion's heart.

The little Elder was fast, Zack had to give him that much. Moving with the honed reflexes of an Origin Realm ace, Orion managed to jerk his body sideways at the last instant, causing the energy blast to miss his vitals by a hair's breadth.

Unfortunately for him, "missing the vitals" was not the same thing as "missing entirely."

Instead of achieving a perfect heart-shot fatality, Zack's qi bullet slammed into Orion's shoulder with all the force of an angry minor deity. There was a meaty thunk, a flash of white light, and then...

Orion screamed.

It was a thin, reedy sound, more befitting a kicked puppy than the venerated elder of a powerful sect. But then, that tended to happen when someone's arm spontaneously exploded at the joint, spraying the surrounding air with a viscous slurry of pulped flesh and powdered bone fragments.

For a long moment, Orion simply hovered there, shock-still, his remaining hand clutching spasmodically at the ragged, oozing stump where his right arm used to be. Dark blood jetted from the wound in erratic spurts, splattering the immaculate jade tiles of the sect courtyard.

He stared at Zack, his eyes wide and glassy with disbelief, as if he couldn't quite process the fact that a Core Formation pipsqueak had just casually blown his limb off.

Zack beamed back at him, the very picture of innocence. "Well now, that looked like it stung a bit. Ready for another?"

He levelled his finger-gun at Orion once more, never mind that the spent Heaven Rank ring had already crumbled into a sad little pile of glittery ash around his feet. What Orion didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

“Y-you’re an Origin Realm expert?”