The Ye Clan estate stood resolute beneath a midday sky ablaze with gold and white, the air thick with a celestial chime that drowned out the fading void of Hei Yuan's retreat. The courtyard pulsed with tension, the fire crackling weakly as Ye Hua clutched a patched cloak, her gray eyes wide with dread at the sky where a golden-armored figure descended, his qi a radiant dawn casting beams that pierced the earth. Ye Qing gripped his spear at the gate, his grizzled face taut with strain, his voice a hoarse growl as he urged Ye Jun and Ye Mei to stay behind the barricade, their small figures dwarfed by the light. Ye Chen knelt by the western wall, his ward-stone clutched tight, his twisted leg braced as the ground hummed faintly. Ye Ling paced the gatehouse, her dagger a restless gleam, her braid snapping with each sharp stride, her eyes narrowed against the blinding glow.
Lin Feng stood before the gate, his silhouette a dark blade against the radiant sky. Hei Yuan's defeat had sharpened the Ye Clan's spirit, but this golden-armored figure—bearing the Heavenly Sovereign's crown—stirred a storm of ancient defiance, a herald of the heavens that once cast him down. His muddy-brown eyes locked on the descending figure, calm yet relentless, a quiet fury burning within. Inside, Zhan Tian's divine soul surged, the seal shattered, golden qi a boundless tide flooding his veins. Each battle had forged this once-frail shell into a vessel of divinity, now blazing with the full might of a Martial God reborn. He tilted his head, the chime resonating through his bones, power thrumming within—a god's wrath unleashed, ready to face the Sovereign's judgment.
Ye Ling dropped beside him, her boots thudding on the earth, her voice a sharp whisper cutting through the chime. "Golden armor," she said, dagger trembling in her grip. "That crown—higher than the black one?"
"Crimson Order's elite," Lin Feng replied, his tone cold as frost, stepping forward. "The Sovereign's fist. He's here to crush me."
Her grin flashed, fierce and wild, a spark of defiance in her dark eyes. "Then we crush him first. Together?"
"He's mine," he said, meeting her fire with an unyielding chill, his gaze steady. "Get them ready. This is no mortal foe."
The clan rallied in the courtyard, their movements a thread of steel woven through their exhaustion, each breath heavy with the weight of survival. Ye Qing planted his spear, its tip scarred from countless clashes, his stance rigid. Ye Chen pocketed his stone, his fingers stained with dust from endless wards. Ye Hua stood with the kids, her hands trembling but her jaw set, a quiet strength holding them close. Lin Feng turned to them, his presence a steady flame piercing the radiant glow, his voice a blade that cut through the celestial hum.
"The Sovereign's fist has come," he said, each word deliberate, resonating with destiny. "Crimson Order's champion. He wants my end. We don't yield. We break him."
Ye Qing's grip tightened on his spear, his voice rough as gravel, worn from battles past. "Stronger than the shadow? Nascent Soul peak?"
"Mid-stage, maybe more," Lin Feng said, his eyes glinting with a golden spark, a promise of power unbound. "Woods to slow his pack, walls to hold. I'll face him alone."
Ye Chen's sharp gaze sliced through the light, probing as always, his mind racing behind those keen eyes. "Mid-stage Nascent Soul's a wall. You're sure?"
"He's a wall," Lin Feng said, unyielding, his voice a quiet thunder. "I'm a storm. Move."
The clan surged into action, their weariness burned away by necessity. Ye Ling darted into the woods, her movements swift and silent, a hunter's grace as she checked snares—barbed twine stretched taut, stakes driven deep into the humming earth. Ye Chen carved wards along the walls, his strokes frantic yet precise, the air buzzing with protective qi, a lattice of defiance against the coming radiance. Ye Qing and the kids piled logs into a jagged barricade, their small hands trembling but resolute, stacking higher as the chime grew louder. Lin Feng worked alone, reinforcing the gate's keystone array—a lattice of golden qi, primal and fierce, pulsing with an intensity that rivaled the sky. The unbound power flowed freely, a river of divinity coursing through him, his frame a conduit for the god he had reclaimed.
The chime swelled—a pure, piercing note that shook the air, light bending as the golden-armored figure landed. His qi was a radiant dawn—Nascent Soul realm, mid-stage, a force of heavenly authority distilled into a mortal form. His face was stern, framed by golden hair, his eyes glinting with divine judgment beneath a crown of radiant metal. His voice rang out, clear and commanding, a sound that shook the soul. "Zhan Tian, fallen Martial God! I am Guang Tai of the Crimson Order, enforcer of the Heavenly Sovereign. Your defiance ends in ashes."
Ye Qing shouted back, his spear thrust high, his voice cracking against the radiance. "He's ours, you glowing bastard! Come take him!"
Guang Tai's lips curled into a faint, disdainful smile, his eyes narrowing with scorn. "Take? I'll purify." He raised a hand, qi flaring—a beam of golden light roaring forth, searing the earth in a blazing scar. Behind him descended fifteen warriors in golden-trimmed armor, their qi a disciplined dawn—Golden Core peaks, their swords and spears glowing with radiant runes, a tide of divine wrath.
Lin Feng stepped beyond the gate, alone, his boots sinking into the scorched earth. "Hold," he murmured to the clan, his voice a low command that pierced the light, then faced Guang Tai head-on. The warriors hit the woods—Ye Ling's snares snapped, barbs slashing armor, stakes tripping boots into the dirt. Four stumbled, their curses drowned by the chime, as her dagger flashed from the shadows, slicing a throat with a wet hiss before she vanished back into the dark. Ye Chen's wards pulsed, a golden barrier slowing the rest, their steps faltering as light clashed with light. Ye Qing hurled a log with a roar, smashing a chest with a dull thud, the warrior crumpling.
Guang Tai glided through, his golden qi a storm of radiance—mid-stage Nascent Soul power searing the air. He lunged, a blade of light forming in his hand, slashing for Lin Feng's heart with a blinding flash. Lin Feng shifted, the strike grazing his chest, leaving a faint burn, and countered—qi surging, golden light flooding his veins, a tide unbound by mortal limits. Pain was a forgotten echo; power was his essence now. He struck Guang Tai's arm—qi hardening his fist to steel—a sharp thud rippling through the enforcer's frame, the radiant blade flickering. Guang Tai's smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of shock, and he swung again—faster, a barrage of light beams raining down.
Lin Feng wove through the radiance, his movements fluid as shadow, palming a runed stone from his sleeve. He tossed it at Guang Tai's feet—the array flared, a cage of golden force gripping his legs, roots of light binding him to the earth. Guang Tai snarled, his qi surging to shatter the trap, beams of dawn cracking the array, but Lin Feng struck his chest—a golden pulse slamming into him, cracking ribs with a sound like breaking glass. The golden-armored figure staggered back, his radiance dimming for a heartbeat, his breath a ragged hiss.
The warriors pressed the gate, their spears and swords hammering the barricade, light swirling as they clashed with Ye Chen's wards. Ye Ling darted out, her dagger a blur as she slashed a thigh, blood spraying across the dirt as she ducked back into the shadows. Ye Chen's sling cracked through the air, a stone smashing a helm with a clang, the warrior crumpling. Ye Qing roared, thrusting his spear into a gut, the shaft bending under the strain as the foe fell with a gurgle. Ye Jun peeked from the hall, clutching a rock, his small face set with fierce resolve— "Now!" Lin Feng shouted, his voice cutting through the light. Ye Jun hurled it, small but fierce, striking Guang Tai's hand as he rose, the radiant blade faltering mid-strike. Ye Ling seized the moment, lunging from the shadows, her dagger slashing his arm—a crimson line blooming against the gold.
Guang Tai's qi erupted—mid-stage Nascent Soul power surging, a radiant storm that shook the sky. "You defy the Sovereign's crown?" he roared, his hand sweeping—a beam of light tearing the earth, aimed to incinerate. Lin Feng met it head-on, golden qi roaring—a boundless tide breaking free. He caught the beam bare-handed—qi a shield against the searing heat—golden light blazing brighter than the dawn. The power surged, unrestrained, a god's fury unleashed, and he twisted, shattering the beam into a shower of sparks that lit the day. He lunged, driving a fist into Guang Tai's jaw—a golden burst cracking bone, dropping him to his knees, blood streaming from his lips.
The warriors faltered, more than half fallen, their qi flickering like dying embers. Guang Tai staggered up, his voice a ragged growl, his eyes wild with fury. "The Sovereign will end you, Zhan Tian! The heavens will not bow!" He thrust both hands forward, desperate, a massive radiant wave roaring forth, splitting the sky. Lin Feng sidestepped, the wave scorching the gate behind him, and struck Guang Tai's chest—a golden pulse hurling him back into his warriors, toppling them in a heap of gold and broken will. "Bow?" Lin Feng said, voice a quiet blade that cut through the radiance. "I'll make them fall."
Guang Tai coughed blood, dragging himself up, his warriors retreating into the sky, their banners torn and trailing. The Ye Clan erupted—Ye Ling's wild cheer piercing the silence, Ye Qing's booming laugh shaking the walls, Ye Chen's stunned grin breaking his stoic mask. Lin Feng turned, the golden qi settling into a faint glow, his chest burned but his stance unwavering, a pillar against the fading light.
Ye Qing thumped his back, his grin wide and mud-streaked. "You're a damn god, lad! Smashed that light flat!"
Ye Ling wiped her dagger on her sleeve, her eyes blazing with pride. "He's running—you're beyond anything!"
Ye Chen limped forward, his voice sharp but tinged with awe. "Nascent Soul, mid-stage. You broke him like nothing."
Lin Feng pressed a hand to his chest, the burn fading, and shrugged. "He overestimated his dawn. That's his fall."
That night, the clan huddled in the hall, the fire roaring with scavenged wood, its warmth a stark contrast to the radiance's heat. Ye Hua bound Lin Feng's burned chest, her hands steady despite the tears brimming in her eyes, her voice a soft tremble. "You're our light, our storm," she said, her fingers lingering on the bandage. "We'd be gone without you."
"Light rises," he said, his tone calm as he let her tend him, a quiet strength in his words. "We're forging something unbreakable."
Ye Ling sat close, her shoulder brushing his, her tone low and insistent. "You glowed—gold, brighter than the sun. Don't dodge it."
He met her gaze, steady and unyielding, a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. "Stay with me, Ling. You'll see the end."
She smirked, a spark of fire in her grin. "Always, you stubborn bastard."
Later, alone by the gate, Lin Feng knelt, tracing the keystone's golden array—now a permanent mark of his divine might. The seal was a memory, replaced by a boundless tide of golden qi, a river of power that surged with every heartbeat. Guang Tai's radiance had clashed with his essence—a heavenly dawn tempering a god's rebirth. He guided the power, forging his frame—senses razor-sharp, strength deepening, the Martial God within him fully awake.
Ye Chen joined him, his shadow faint against the firelight, his voice blunt as ever. "They'll send the Sovereign next," he said, his eyes narrowing at the sky. "No one else left."
Lin Feng rose, meeting his gaze, his presence a quiet thunder of its own. "Let him come. I'm ready."
Ye Chen's lips quirked—a rare spark of hunger in his sharp eyes. As silence settled, a low hum rose—not light, but a deep, resonant toll, like the heartbeat of the cosmos. Lin Feng's head snapped up—a colossal figure emerged from the clouds, qi a golden storm of infinite power, eyes glinting with eternal authority, the Heavenly Sovereign himself, his crown blazing with the weight of the heavens.