'Identify the flaws and weaknesses,' Ji Wuye muttered inwardly, his thick eyebrows furrowing slightly as his eyes narrowed in concentration.

The sound of his steady, measured steps echoed faintly on the smooth black bamboo tiles of the roof.

His intense crimson pupils glowed under the brilliance of the morning sunlight, fixed intently on the transparent holographic screen hovering before him.

The statement displayed was ambiguous, particularly without the clarification provided by the word 'instantly' in the following sentence. Ji Wuye's stern expression softened briefly as the corners of his mouth curled upwards in a sly smirk.

'Which means... I don't need to wait anymore,' he continued inwardly, halting at the roof's edge. He pushed a stray lock of his white hair away from his face as a light breeze ruffled the layered sleeves of his long white martial robe.

Ji Wuye shifted his piercing gaze downward, where a chaotic melee of unorthodox martial artists against Kunlun disciples raged fiercely below.

Bodies twisted and collided in a deadly dance, unorthodox martial artists desperately battling to ascend the stone staircase that wound its way towards the Kunlun.

Their numbers steadily dwindled as their reckless advance faltered, leaving many grimacing in pain or lying motionless

Under Ji Wuye's focused observance, the third effect of his passive Quick Adaptation skill activated.

A shimmering miasma of colorful Qi swirled across the battlefield staircase, ranging from faint bluish wisps to pulsing veins of elemental energy in every vibrant hue.

It flowed through the air in gossamer trails, connecting to the bodies of the martial artists as they unleashed furious techniques in blinding arcs of power.

Among this dazzling kaleidoscopic spectacle, however, Ji Wuye's discerning eyes detected something different—anomalous flickers of faint, blurred distortion that stood out starkly to his heightened senses.

He leaned forward slightly, the tails of his tatered white martial robe waving behind him as he studied the peculiar phenomenon intently.

The first effect of Quick Adaptation was ‘Analyze all the attack patterns,’ which meant he had either seen enough or fought long enough for the skill to fully activate.

It was just like the time when he fought Wu Gao in the past.. Back then, he had already masterfully internalized the stances and techniques of most Kunlun martial arts styles.

Then the skill used that knowledge to create a ‘possible attack pattern,’ allowing him to accurately predict his opponent’s next move.

It had worked similarly when Ji Wuye faced the Dark Wolves. But now, with this new third effect...

'Let's test it out,' he thought inwardly, a spark of determination flashing in his crimson eyes.

The blurry phenomenon he noticed amid the dazzling maelstrom of Qi could have merely been a trick of his imagination, or perhaps the distance and height made the subtle distortions harder to perceive clearly.

Suddenly...his keen senses were suddenly drawn to a cluster of furtive shadows slipping out from beyond the ornately carved paifang gate, where they had been lurking within the Central Courtyard.

The shadowy figures scurried rapidly down the stairs, keeping low and moving with disciplined precision like a pack of sleek hunting predators descending on their prey.

...

Meanwhile, amidst the raging battle on the ascending stone staircase leading to Kunlun's grounds...

"Haaaaah!" A guttural scream of unbridled rage erupted, filling the air as potent Qi surged with blinding intensity, glowing azure through the extended meridian pathways of the martial artist's arms.

A young Kunlun disciple transitioned seamlessly from a lowered horse stance, torso coiled like a spring as his arms extended upwards parallel to his body.

He flowed smoothly into the next movement, arms slashing down in a straight, vertical strike as he drew the razor-sharp jian blade in his right hand.

"Meridian March: Single Whip!" he bellowed amid the furious motion, aiming the devastating strike at the taunting opponent below him.

"Such orthodox techniques...as expected—visible, predictable, and foolish!" The sneering, mocking voice of his adversary rang out like a clarion amidst the chaotic battlefield, followed by a derisive bark of laughter that seemed to mock the disciple's efforts.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The vibrant azure Qi coursing along the pathways of the Hand Taiyin Lung meridians lent tremendous amplifying force to the disciple's downward sword swing.

The glowing blade flared brilliantly with the empowered energy, and the overwhelming power behind the devastating attack seemed capable of smashing through any defense. But—

CLANK!

The harsh, discordant sound of tempered steel clashing against steel echoed out in harsh dissonance. The disciple's attack was effortlessly blocked, halted by the solidly horizontal jian blade held in the adversary's hand and similarly wreathed in shimmering veins of azure Qi.

At the point where the two currents of energy collided and discharged, vivid crimson sparks erupted in a dazzling starburst, flaring brightly for just an instant before winking out.

It was almost as if the two intertwined flows of Qi were woven together at the precise impact point before violently repelling each other.

"Is that all Kunlun has taught you?" the opponent mocked again, his voice cutting through the sounds of battle like a razor's edge.

Despite the disdainful taunts, he clearly felt the sheer unstoppable force and blazing determination surging behind the disciple's ferocious vertical slash.

The attacker was no mere nobody, but an Outer Disciple of the Kunlun.

He stood firm in his pristine white martial robes accented with aqua trims, the defiant set of his jaw unwavering as he wielded the glistening jian sword with precise skill.

He held the high ground, an advantageous position partway up the broad stone staircase, and had swung his vicious attack in a perfectly vertical arc - aiming to leverage gravity and cause maximum damage by crashing down onto his opponent fighting from the lower steps.

But... as merely an Outer Disciple facing a foe already in the 4th Martial Realm, the vast disparity in their power was unmistakably clear.

Despite his positioning advantage, his all-out strike was easily rebuffed and blocked.

"Don't underestimate the principles of our art!" the Kunlun disciple snarled, his expression a stoic mask of grim determination.

While his jian remained locked against the opponent's crossed blade, he suddenly dragged it down in one smooth, explosive motion. Showers of crimson sparks fountained outwards from the abrasive clash of swirling Qi grinding against tempered steel.

The sudden shift in force caused the stable deadlock to fracture like brittle glass. The unorthodox martial artist staggered, his hands and weapon momentarily thrown skyward as he fought to regain his balance on the steep steps.

The disciple's hands gripped the hilt of his blade tightly, corded veins and tendons visibly straining against the backs of his forearms as he powered through the motion.

His intense eyes burned with an inner fire as bright as the Qi he channeled.

With smooth, fluid precision, the Outer Disciple transitioned into the next strike. He slashed his jian in a long, diagonal arc across his opponent's body from left shoulder to right hip in one singlebinding motion.

"No—!"

Without hesitation, he instantly reversed the attack - mirroring the precise angle from the opposite diagonal to complete the intricate sequence.

"Double Lash!" he shouted, his voice a clarion amidst the chaos.

The unorthodox martial artist on the lower steps could only gape in shock, eyes widening as he realized his error too late.

His own weapon had been deftly knocked askew, flung from his grip to clatter uselessly onto the stone as his hands were thrown helplessly into the air by the disciple's blinding combination.

In the next frozen instant, the Kunlun disciple's blade sang through the air - then struck true with an explosion of visceral impact.

"GAAAHHH!"

A thick crimson spray of arterial blood erupted into the air in a brilliant arc, the torn fabric of cloth audibly ripping as the disciple's razor jian sliced deeply into the unorthodox martial artist's torso.

The struck opponent reeled backwards, blood trailing from the horrific wound, before finally crumpling bonelessly to tumble down the remaining steps in a tangled, lifeless heap at the base of the staircase.

The Kunlun Outer Disciple exhaled deeply, relief washing over his sweat-beaded face as the tension drained from his body.

His heart thundered like the beats of a war drum in his chest, still reeling from the shocking realization that he had somehow managed to catch a vastly superior 4th Realm martial artist momentarily off guard.

He strained to steady his ragged breathing, one hand pressed against the stitch in his side as he gazed back down the long expanse of the ascending staircase.

His eyes tracked over the ongoing clashes, watching his Martial Siblings in their distinctive aqua-trimmed robes battling ferociously against the unorthodox fighters swarming up from below.

"Watch out!"

A sudden shout snapped him from his thoughts like a thunderclap. Before the outer disciple could react, a powerful hand seized him by the collar of his robe and yanked him backwards with jarring force.

His vision blurred briefly with the abrupt motion as a streak of white and dark blue whipped past in his periphery.

CLANK!

Under his disbelieving eyes, two unorthodox martial artists suddenly materialized from his blind spots on either side, their wicked blades arcing down in a pincer attack aimed to cleanly sever his head from his shoulders.

He would have been struck down without ever seeing his killers if not for the Official Disciple who had intervened at the last possible instant - hauling him backwards while interposing his own body to take the deadly double attack meant for him.

The senior Official Disciple held his gleaming jian horizontally to block both slashing blades, the shuddering impacts reverberating through his entire frame with bone-jarring force.

Errant strands of his topknot whipped wildly as he braced his rooted stance against the onslaught.

"This is a real battle, not a friendly spar!" the Official Disciple snarled, his teeth gritted tightly and cords of muscle straining against the weight of the combined assault.

His back was turned protectively towards the outer disciple, his defensive posture tense yet unwavering despite the overwhelming force bearing down upon him.

It was clear, however, that even his immense strength was rapidly faltering - the steep and narrow staircase offered no room to properly maneuver or even retreat further from the unrelenting attacks pressing in from both sides.

"Le-let me help you, Senior Brother!" the shaken Outer Disciple stammered, quickly scrambling to rise and assist in the desperate defense.

But before he could make a single move to aid his embattled superior, the entire battlefield that had been chaotic with the clash of steel and shouts just moments before fell eerily, utterly silent. A deathly hush seemed to descend over the area like a suffocating pall.

Frozen mid-motion, the Kunlun Outer Disciple could only stare in numb shock at the nightmarish scene unfolding before his disbelieving eyes.

The two unorthodox martial artists who had been ferociously pressing his Senior Brother with their overwhelming assault just moments before now hung suspended grotesquely in the air.

Their bodies dangled limply like marionettes with severed strings, gruesomely skewered straight through by the single slender jian blade protruding from their backs.

Thick ropes of arterial blood sluiced down the polished length of the sword in a steady patter, trickling from the gaping wounds to pool rapidly beneath their feet.

The two lifeless forms slumped bonelessly against one another in a macabre embrace, faces frozen in matching rictuses of shock and agony.

The one holding the dripping jian was a shockingly young man, almost inhumanly beautiful, with long silken white hair that seemed to shimmer like moonlight on fresh snow under the brilliant morning sunlight.

His intense crimson pupils glowed with an icy, remorseless light, giving his chiseled features an almost otherworldly, ethereal aura of power.

He wore the same style of white martial robe trimmed with aqua as him, yet he had effortlessly, contemptuously dispatched the two skilled adversaries who had overwhelmed even an Official Disciple with seeming ease.

"Move," the white-haired young man stated, his cold voice cutting through the heavy silence like a razor's slice.

Even his Senior Brother who had saved him just moments before trembled visibly, his legs quaking beneath him as he immediately lowered his head in deference.

He silently shuffled aside, clearing a path for the terrifying young man to pass without a word of protest.

Only after the white-haired young man had brushed past him did the outer disciple finally remember to exhale, realizing he had been holding his breath in stunned paralysis.

His wide eyes slowly tracked down to survey the remaining battlefield stretched out below on the ascending stone stairs.

The forms of fallen, unorthodox martial artists now littered the ground like broken dolls, their bodies cold and lifeless amidst steadily spreading pools of crimson.

The surviving Kunlun disciples stood frozen like haunted statues, their wide eyes filled with shock, disbelief, and dawning horror etched across their pale faces as they lifted their gaze to follow the white-haired young man's retreating figure.

"The White Demon..."