The snow had finally begun to settle.
What monts ago had been a battlefield of shattered stone, frozen Qi, and lingering echoes of hatred was now quiet, the wind carrying only faint traces of ash where the Evil Mountain Spirit had once existed. Han Yu stood there for several breaths, letting the tension bleed out of his body, before finally turning toward Madam Cold Fang.
She hovered a short distance away, her white robes untouched by blood or soot, ice Qi still faintly coiling around her like a living thing. Even after a battle of such intensity, her breathing was steady, her posture unshaken.
Madam Cold Fang’s gaze did not move from the empty ground where the spirit had been annihilated.
Han Yu’s mind raced.
A High Elder was not so minor figure. Even among the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect, High Elders stood near the pinnacle of authority, just beneath the sect master and a handful of supre elders. Such a person disappearing would not be a trivial matter.
Yet Han Yu could not recall the na.
He searched his mory desperately. Lists of elders he had seen in sect records. Whispered nas spoken by inner disciples. Ancient figures ntioned in passing in restricted manuals.
Nothing.
"I have never heard of him," Han Yu admitted carefully. "Not even as a rumor."
"That is not surprising," Madam Cold Fang replied. "He vanished long before your ti."
Han Yu exhaled slowly.
That explained much, but it also raised more questions.
"If he was a High Elder," Han Yu said, "then for him to end up like this ans only a few possibilities. Either he left the sect on a mission and never returned, he was exiled, or his fate was deliberately erased."
Madam Cold Fang gave a faint, humorless smile.
"You are perceptive."
Han Yu hesitated, then asked the question that had been weighing on him since she spoke.
"You said you killed him over a thousand years ago. Why?"
Her answer ca without hesitation.
"Because he was of the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect."
The air between them shifted.
Han Yu’s muscles tensed instantly.
That single sentence carried more threat than any blade.
He t her gaze steadily, though his mind was already calculating escape routes, contingencies, and the cost of provoking her further.
"So you killed him," Han Yu said slowly, "because he belonged to my sect."
"Yes."
The word was simple, absolute.
For a heartbeat, Han Yu considered what that ant for him.
He was standing before a woman who had slain a High Elder of his own sect and had survived for over a thousand years afterward. A woman who had just fought an abomination born from that elder’s remains and erged victorious.
And she knew exactly who he was.
Before he could speak again, Madam Cold Fang continued.
"Do not misunderstand," she said calmly. "I have no enmity with you. At least, not yet."
Han Yu raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That is... reassuring," he said dryly.
She glanced at him, a faint trace of amusent passing through her eyes.
"You are a Core Condensation realm disciple," she continued. "Weak. Insignificant in the grand sche. I do not concern myself with ants unless they crawl into my path."
Han Yu felt a strange mix of irritation and relief.
He took a asured breath.
"Then why tell any of this at all?" he asked.
"Because you fought," she replied. "And because you did not turn your blade on , even when you could have fled."
Han Yu did not argue that point.
He had thought of fleeing many tis during that battle.
He changed the subject slightly.
"I did not think," he said, "that there were people willing to openly oppose the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect. At least not on the Blood Moon Continent."
Madam Cold Fang let out a soft scoff.
"That is because the sect wishes you to believe that."
Han Yu kept his expression neutral, though inwardly his heart skipped a beat.
"You believe yourselves to be rulers of the continent," she continued. "And in many ways, you are. But even a ruler casts shadows, and in those shadows, resistance grows."
Han Yu inclined his head slightly, playing his role.
"That is difficult to believe," he said, adopting the tone of a loyal disciple. "The sect’s influence is absolute."
Madam Cold Fang laughed quietly.
"re disciples always think that," she said. "You are shown victories, not costs. Conquests, not consequences."
She paused, then added, "Those who stand against the sect do not do so openly. They hide, cultivate, and wait. So fail. So survive."
Internally, Han Yu felt a flicker of excitent.
So there were others. Others who dared and others who had survived.
He forced that thought down and asked another question.
"If I were to report your existence to the sect," Han Yu said carefully, "would that concern you?"
Madam Cold Fang looked at him for a long mont.
Then she smiled beneath her veil, though there was no warmth in it.
"I could kill you," she said calmly. "So no, it does not concern ."
Han Yu did not doubt her for a second.
"Besides," she continued, "even if your sect ca, I would already be gone. This is not the first ti they have sought ."
Han Yu’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"How long?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She answered without hesitation.
"Two thousand years."
The number struck him harder than anything else she had said.
Two thousand years.
Han Yu’s mind imdiately began calculating.
Qi Refining realm cultivators lived roughly two hundred years. Core Condensation around three hundred. Nascent Soul cultivators could reach a thousand. Dao Shell realm cultivators were said to reach two thousand. Dao Treading realm, three thousand.
Those were averages, not guarantees, but still.
Madam Cold Fang looked young.
Too young.
"You have survived them for two thousand years," Han Yu said slowly. "That would place you at the Dao Shell realm at the very least."
"At the very least," she echoed.
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