Bai Ruoyue stared at Han.
The other three also stared at Han.
Did those words really just come out of his mouth?
Bai Ruoyue had just started getting fired up, only for Han to douse her enthusiasm entirely.
"You’re getting ahead of yourself, Han!" one of the opposing cultivators snapped.
"Even if you’re exceptionally gifted, you’re still just a Meridian Realm martial artist!"
"Even if you practice soul cultivation, how long have you been at it? You’re probably still stuck in the Visualization Realm, aren’t you?"
"If we decide to leave, what exactly can you do to stop us?"
They acknowledged that Han was an incredible martial talent, but martial arts and soul cultivation were two entirely different paths!
No one could master both at the same time, especially not at such an absurd speed.
It was impossible.
Han’s expression remained cold.
Idiots.
His soul left his body, rising into the air. A faint lunar glow shimmered along its edges—the unmistakable mark of a Night Wanderer Realm cultivator.
Visualization Realm?
I left that behind long ago.
"Night Wanderer Realm?!"
"That’s impossible—absolutely impossible!"
"How long have you even been cultivating?!"
The two soul cultivators were in utter disbelief.
A complete novice who had barely been on the path for a month—how could he possibly have reached this level?!
It shattered their understanding of cultivation itself.
Even Bai Ruoyue was momentarily stunned.
She had just now realized that Han had broken through again—reaching the third realm of soul cultivation.
Absolute freak.
"Impossible?"
Han’s soul surged forward, launching a direct attack.
"I thrive on making the impossible… possible."
A flying sword sliced through the air, whistling as it carried a surge of spiritual energy.
Han had exchanged for this weapon with Lu Qingmo long ago—
The Violet Thunder Peachwood Sword.
"Seeking death!"
The Visceral Refinement Realm warrior snapped out of his shock, his killing intent erupting.
A mere shadowy soul dared to approach him—a Visceral Refinement martial artist?
Did Han not even know what death was?
"Junior Brother, don’t be reckless!"
Bai Ruoyue’s face changed instantly. She rushed forward, alarmed.
You fool!
The two Night Wanderer cultivators also sneered.
So what if he had talent?
He was still too young. Too arrogant.
"Senior Sister, don’t interfere—just protect my body. And don’t let them escape!"
Han’s voice boomed as he ignored their thoughts.
The Violet Thunder Peachwood Sword swept past the Visceral Refinement warrior, heading straight for the two Night Wanderer cultivators.
Meanwhile, Han himself confronted the martial artist head-on.
A wave of scorching heat rushed toward him as violent blood energy surged forward.
Han’s expression didn’t waver.
Visceral Refinement Realm?
That’s exactly what I came here to crush.
His hands glowed with a lustrous jade radiance, slicing through the blood energy as he clashed fists with the warrior.
The impact shook the air.
The force sent Han’s soul flying backward several meters. Wisps of white mist evaporated from his form, but they quickly restabilized.
His soul remained intact—barely even weakened by the powerful yang energy.
The damage was minimal, and his form rapidly regenerated.
He had withstood the attack.
The other four were left speechless.
For a Night Wanderer Realm soul to directly face a Visceral Refinement warrior’s blood energy was equivalent to a living person stepping into a raging furnace.
No soul should have been able to survive that.
A yin soul standing before pure yang energy should be like a mortal walking into flames—reduced to nothing in an instant.
Yet here Han was, standing untouched in the inferno.
Their understanding of reality had just been shattered.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Han had not only survived, but he wasn’t even significantly weakened.
None of them had ever seen anything like this.
From the moment they had laid eyes on Han, the words "impossible" had never left their lips.
"You’re a Day Wanderer Realm cultivator, aren’t you?! No… no, wait… you’re still surrounded by lunar energy… You’re only a Night Wanderer… HOW?!"
The Visceral Refinement warrior couldn’t accept it.
Then, his shame turned to rage.
This was humiliating.
If outsiders saw this, they’d think he was a fake martial artist!
Furious, he charged forward again.
Han smirked and met his attack head-on.
A sudden mental shockwave erupted—
Phantom Dream Art.
At the same time, his hands radiated an even brighter jade light, summoning the power of heaven and earth.
Grand Might Palm.
They clashed again—
And just like before, the Visceral Refinement warrior’s blood energy had no effect on Han’s soul.
"You… you MONSTER!"
The warrior roared in frustration.
He could not comprehend what was happening.
Han glanced at him once—then turned toward the two soul cultivators, who were still fending off the Violet Thunder Peachwood Sword.
Except their focus wasn’t on the sword anymore.
They had been too busy watching him.
"You seem awfully interested in me." Han smirked.
"Let me take care of you first."
He soared upward, completely bypassing the Visceral Refinement warrior, charging straight toward the other two.
His previous clashes had only been a test—a way to gauge his soul’s true limits.
Otherwise, why would he let a mere Visceral Refinement warrior even touch him?
Now, he had his answer.
And he was very pleased.
His soul had completely surpassed the ordinary Night Wanderer Realm.
Unlike other cultivators, whose souls would shatter upon exposure to martial energy, Han could now engage in direct combat—something unheard of for a soul cultivator of his level.
A Night Wanderer should never be able to withstand a Visceral Refinement warrior’s aura.
But who said he had to follow those rules?
There were no absolutes in this world.
Not even Lu Qingmo had ever told him that yin souls were guaranteed to disintegrate against martial blood energy—only that it was "typically" the case.
But Han?
Han was not "typical."
How many treasures had he absorbed?
How many rare artifacts had he used?
How many ancient techniques had he cultivated?
With all his advantages, if he still couldn’t stand against a mere Visceral Refinement warrior, he might as well retire to the mountains and become a hermit.
Watching Han charge toward them, the two soul cultivators felt an intense wave of fear.
They had no idea what kind of monstrosity they were facing.
But one thing was clear—
They had no chance of stopping him.
They tried to run—
But how could they possibly escape?
A colossal handprint formed in the sky, radiating a righteous and unstoppable force, gathering the power of the world itself.
Grand Might Palm—fully unleashed!
At the same time, the Violet Thunder Peachwood Sword streaked forward, crackling with arcs of purple lightning.
Though made of wood, it was no ordinary sword—it had been forged from peachwood that had survived a direct lightning strike, not only unscathed but revitalized by the heavenly punishment. It was an elite-grade artifact in its own right.
Boom!
A palm and a sword—the impact was devastating.
The earth trembled, trees snapped like twigs, and the surrounding landscape was left in ruins.
The two Night Wanderer Realm souls were crushed within the massive handprint, dragged forcibly toward Han.
Against him, they were pathetically weak—completely powerless to resist.
Compared to the Visceral Refinement warrior, these soul cultivators were far easier to deal with. At least the former had an innate advantage due to the nature of martial energy.
But then something strange happened.
The two human-shaped souls… suddenly began to morph.
One transformed into a snake, the other into a fish.
"Demons?" Han raised an eyebrow.
"You two… where are you from?"
The captured demons glared at Han with pure malice, but they refused to speak.
They didn’t beg for mercy.
They didn’t even reveal their affiliations.
After all, they had been conducting shady business—why would they expose their identities and give Han leverage?
Han wasn’t bothered.
They could stay silent.
Soon, he would hand them over to the shrimp and crab demons anyway.
Still…
Two aquatic demons spying on Yunjiang?
Was this a power struggle among water-dwelling clans?
Han turned away, shifting his gaze to Bai Ruoyue—and the Visceral Refinement warrior now collapsed on the ground.
Bai Ruoyue stood beside him, her eyes flickering—occasionally glancing at Han, then looking away.
Seeing Han staring, her face flushed slightly.
"Junior Brother, I swear I didn’t steal your fight on purpose!" she said hurriedly.
"It’s just that… he was too weak. Couldn’t even put up a decent struggle."
The warrior on the ground coughed up blood, unable to speak—
Too weak?!
You were the one who beat me half to death!
You didn’t even give me a chance to surrender!
Han couldn’t help but chuckle.
Senior Sister was as violent as ever.
She had an addiction to combat.
With the two water demons secured, Han returned to his body and glanced down at the battered warrior.
His brows furrowed.
"He’s too heavily injured."
Bai Ruoyue thought Han was criticizing her for going too hard, so she opened her mouth to explain—
But before she could, Han continued,
"Better if I just end his suffering now. No need for him to endure unnecessary pain in his final moments."
"…?"
Junior Brother, are you actually the King of Hell?
Even in this world, people feared the legends of Yama, the ruler of the underworld.
With a benevolent expression, Han mercifully finished off the warrior.
Sigh… Master Zhou is just too kind-hearted. He can’t bear to see people suffer.
Before the man’s soul dissipated, Han casually collected it.
Whether the body lived or not didn’t matter—as long as the soul was intact.
Of course, Han also took the three corpses, intending to deliver them fully intact to the shrimp and crab demons.
Then, extending his spiritual sense, he swept through the forest, ensuring nothing was overlooked.
Satisfied, he left.
…Only to have his soul return thirty minutes later to double-check.
After another thorough scan, he nodded in approval.
"Alright. No hidden tricks. Job’s done."
After all, these were demons.
He hadn’t dealt with their kind much before—better to be extra careful.
No harm in being cautious.
"JUNIOR BROTHER, YOU’RE WAY TOO PARANOID."
Bai Ruoyue raised an eyebrow.
"Senior Sister," Han said earnestly, "being careful is never a bad thing."
"If you ever venture out into the world, you must be cautious. Never let your guard down—don’t give anyone the opportunity to strike first."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Bai Ruoyue grumbled.
"You sound just like my father."
"…"
Han blinked.
She wasn’t the first person to say that.
Did he… give off fatherly vibes?
"JUNIOR BROTHER, WHY DOESN’T YOUR SOUL FEAR MARTIAL ENERGY?"
Bai Ruoyue’s curiosity got the better of her.
"It’s not that I don’t fear it," Han corrected.
"I just have the foundation to withstand it."
"My soul is far more refined than others of my realm, so I can resist a martial artist’s blood energy better than most. But the natural counter still exists."
"I see…" Bai Ruoyue nodded.
Then, a playful glint flashed in her eyes.
"Then why don’t we test it, Junior Brother?"
Han narrowed his eyes.
"Senior Sister, what would I gain from dying here?"
There was no comparison between Bai Ruoyue’s blood energy and that of an ordinary Visceral Refinement warrior.
The way she trained her martial body was on an entirely different level.
Han had also trained in secret martial arts—he understood the difference.
Bai Ruoyue smirked, twitching her nose.
"Hmph, as long as you know I’m stronger."
"You’re strong. Way too strong."
Han laughed, reaching out to pat her head—his expression filled with fatherly amusement.
A gentle pat on the puppy’s head.
Bai Ruoyue froze.
Then, realization struck—
And her face turned crimson.
"Han!" she shrieked. "I’m your Senior Sister!"
Junior Brother, how could you—how could you just pat me like that?!
A fist came flying at Han’s face.