Juwon followed Yuxian through the vast halls of Wudang Sect, each step bringing him closer to the unknown.

  The towering wooden pillars, inscribed with ancient Daoist scripture, exuded an aura of wisdom and judgment.

  Despite the stillness of the temple grounds, an overwhelming pressure weighed down on him—a silent warning that those inside were far beyond anything he had faced before.

  At the very heart of the hall, seated atop an elevated throne, was the Sect Leader.

  His long silver hair, streaked with faint traces of black, flowed over his broad shoulders.

  His face, aged yet powerful, carried the gaze of a man who had seen eras rise and fall.

  His robes, layered in deep indigo and gold, bore the emblem of Wudang’s legacy.

  His hands rested gently over the armrests, yet his very presence commanded absolute silence.

  This was a man whose mere presence could decide fates.

  Juwon and Yuxian stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

  "State your name, where you come from, and who your martial master is," the Sect Leader commanded.

  Juwon felt the weight of every gaze upon him. His mind raced. Stay composed. Turn lies into truth.

  He inhaled deeply, keeping his voice steady.

  "To the world, I am known as Seo Juwon—an archaeologist. That is the name and identity I have carried. But my martial path was never meant to be known."

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall, but the Sect Leader remained silent, watching him.

  "And... your master?" The Sect Leader’s voice was firm yet laced with curiosity.

  "Who guided you on this path?"

  Juwon met the Sect Leader’s gaze, his mind calculating the best response.

  To fabricate a lie carelessly was to invite death, but revealing nothing was just as dangerous.

  "My master’s name is not something I can speak carelessly, Sect Leader. His existence carried weight upon this world itself."

  The Sect Leader’s brow raised slightly. "Even if I am asking?"

  Juwon’s voice did not waver.

  "Even if you are asking, esteemed Sect Leader."

  Silence settled over the hall.

  The words carried an unshakable finality.

  The moment Juwon’s Qi flared, a bright flame of Qi erupted from his palm, flickering with unnatural intensity.

  The air around it rippled as murmurs filled the hall—the sheer nature of his Qi was unlike anything seen before.

  A sharp voice cut through the tension.

  "Boy, do you realize who stands before you? The Wudang Sect Leader is among the most respected figures in this land, and yet you refuse to answer him?" Elder Shen Mu, a senior figure within Wudang, stepped forward, his sharp eyes filled with scrutiny and frustration.

  Juwon responded, "It seems I have been disrespectful, Sect Leader. I only wish for my master to rest in peace, undisturbed by the affairs of the living."

  The Sect Leader waved his hand. "It is the duty of a disciple to uphold his master's honor, and I will not press further. However, I have heard from my disciples that your Qi is unlike anything seen before. I would like you to project it now, so we may witness it ourselves.".

  Juwon took a slow breath, then raised his hand.

  A bright flame of Qi erupted from his palm, flickering with unnatural intensity. The golden energy danced like a living force, neither purely violent nor entirely serene, pulsing in rhythm with his breath.

  Murmurs spread through the hall—some filled with awe, others tinged with uncertainty.

  Even among seasoned cultivators, few had ever witnessed Qi take on such a form., flickering with unnatural intensity.

  The air around it rippled as murmurs filled the hall—the sheer nature of his Qi was unlike anything seen before.

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  "How is that possible?" Elder Shen Mu’s voice carried both disbelief and suspicion.

  "How can someone’s Qi take this form? This was only spoken of in legends. Where did you learn martial arts?"

  Juwon remained silent for a fraction of a second, enough for his mind to weave possibilities.

  To admit the truth would be suicide, but revealing too little would make him an enemy of the sect.

  "Sect Leader," Juwon finally spoke, his voice measured, "it seems Hei Long believes I possess something of value to them. Whether that is my martial ability or something else, even I cannot say."

  The Elder’s expression darkened. The air around him shifted as a thick, oppressive Qi filled the hall.

  "You dare withhold the truth? Speak up."

  Juwon’s body screamed under the pressure. He had felt killing intent before—but this was different.

  His breath hitched, his muscles stiffening, but he forced himself to hold his ground.

  "Enough." The Sect Leader’s voice cut through the room like a blade, dispelling the Elder’s Qi instantly. "Elder Shen Mu, restrain yourself. The boy will answer in due time."

  The Elder took a step back, though his lingering gaze held clear hostility.

  The Sect Leader then turned to Juwon, his expression unreadable.

  "Do you even understand the power you wield?"

  A sudden wave of killing intent flooded the hall.

  It was suffocating. Ancient. As if the weight of history itself had descended upon Juwon.

  Juwon’s mind raced. How do I survive this?

  Then, an idea struck him.

  He straightened, steadying his breath. Then, closing his eyes, he gathered what little Qi he had left and let it flare outward.

  A bright flame of Qi erupted from his palm, flickering with unnatural intensity. The air around it rippled as murmurs filled the hall—the sheer nature of his Qi was unlike anything seen before.

  Juwon recalled Yuxian’s words after his fight with Wei Tong—the moment Yuxian had whispered in awe, 'Heavenly Dragon Emperor…' That was where it began. He didn't know the full truth, but he understood one thing—perception was power.

  If Wudang held knowledge of the Celestial Guardians, then all he had to do was let them see what they already believed in.

  Then, the moment came.

  Juwon clenched his fist—and this time, he did not hold back.

  Behind him, a massive spectral dragon head manifested, its piercing gaze sweeping over the hall.

  The energy twisted unnaturally—imposing yet divine.

  Juwon’s voice rang through the silence.

  "Heed my call… For it is i who wield the power of the Dragon Emperor."

  For a heartbeat, nothing moved.

  Then, chaos erupted.

  The Sect Leader’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened.

  One of the Elders took a step forward, voice thick with disbelief. "Sect Leader… could it be?"

  Without a word, the Sect Leader descended from his pedestal, walking toward Juwon.

  He stopped before him, then bowed his head slightly, bringing one fist to meet his palm.

  "Zhang Taichen, Sect Leader of Wudang, greets the last great disciple of the Celestial Guardians."

  Juwon stiffened, his mind reeling. Celestial what now? He had expected doubt, accusations even, but not this.

  Yuxian took a sharp breath, staring at Juwon as if seeing him for the first time.

  Yunfei, for once, had no witty remark.

  Elder Shen Mu immediately stepped forward, his expression shifting from disbelief to outright indignation.

  "Sect Leader! This is outrageous!! Are we truly accepting his words without question? He could be an imposter!"

  The Sect Leader’s gaze sharpened, his voice like steel.

  "Do not disrespect the Qi of the Ancient Gods, nor question the bloodline of those who carried their will."

  Elder Shen Mu’s hands clenched into fists. "Then-Then let him prove it! If he is truly the last disciple of the Celestial Guardians, let him demonstrate it in combat! Wudang does not bow to words alone."

  Sect Leader nodded with a sigh.

  A young Outer Disciple, Liang Fei, stepped forward, his face twisted in irritation. His sharp features were set in a deep scowl, his stance rigid with barely contained frustration. "I’ll fight him." "I’ll fight him."

  Juwon studied him, then shook his head. "No."

  Liang Fei scowled. "What? Are you looking down on me?"

  Juwon exhaled, meeting Liang Fei’s glare with an unreadable expression.

  "It’s not about looking down on you. I don’t wish to harm a fellow Wudang disciple. Give me someone stronger."

  The Sect Leader chuckled, his gaze shifting between Juwon and Liang Fei.

  "Very well."

  The Sect Leader turned to the assembled disciples. His gaze swept over them before he spoke.

  "Luo Chen, step forward."

  From the ranks of the Inner Disciples, a tall figure emerged.

  Luo Chen, a well-respected Inner Disciple, moved with deliberate grace.

  His broad shoulders and toned physique were wrapped in the flowing robes of Wudang, though his presence carried none of the ostentation of others. His hair was cut short, unlike many of his peers, emphasizing his sharp jawline and focused gaze.

  His eyes, a piercing dark brown, studied Juwon with quiet intensity—neither hostile nor friendly, but purely analytical, as if already calculating the upcoming battle. His sharp eyes measured Juwon with quiet intensity.

  The Sect Leader’s voice carried across the vast hall, commanding absolute attention. "You will face him," he declared, gesturing toward Luo Chen. "Luo Chen is among the finest of Wudang’s Inner Disciples.

  If you are truly worthy of the Celestial Guardian’s legacy, then prove it before all of Wudang."

  The air grew thick with anticipation, disciples shifting in excitement as murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  Liang Fei scoffed, his arms crossing tightly over his chest, his lips curling into a sneer. "Talk is cheap. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts when you stand before Brother Chen."

  His voice carried through the hall, drawing whispers and quiet laughter from the surrounding disciples. Some nodded in agreement, while others watched Juwon with a mix of curiosity and doubt.

  The announcement sent a wave of energy through the sect, spreading like wildfire.

  The corridors buzzed with speculation, disciples whispering about the audacity of the challenge. By evening, the training grounds would be overflowing—some eager to witness history in the making, others simply wanting to see if the so-called Celestial Guardian would crumble under Wudang’s might.

  Conversations buzzed in every corner of the hall, excitement and skepticism blending into an atmosphere thick with tension.

  Zhang Taichen stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the assembled disciples, silencing the murmurs with his mere presence.

  "The match will be held at sundown in the Heavenly Ascendance Arena," he declared, his voice firm and absolute. "All disciples are permitted to observe. Let none say that Wudang does not recognize the weight of one's words."

  In the midst of the roaring crowd, Seo Juwon stood motionless. Then, just for a moment, the corner of his lips curled into a smirk.

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