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Chapter 7: The Hunt Beneath Thunderveil Peaks

  The early morning sky was cloaked in dense clouds, thunder echoing faintly in the distance as if the heavens themselves stirred in anticipation. Beneath the gray dome of sky, Sect Master Yán Qīngshēng and Lù Tiān stood at the edge of Misty Cloud Gate’s outer boundary, their robes fluttering in the cold wind. Lù Tiān gazed toward the northern horizon, where jagged peaks pierced the heavens like black fangs.

  "That’s where the Scarlet Vein Thunderboar makes its den?" he asked.

  Yán nodded. "Thunderveil Peaks. A range bathed in near-constant storms, rich in lightning-aligned spiritual energy. The beast likely feeds on that Qi to temper its core."

  Lù Tiān gave a faint hum. "Perfect. The more tempered its core, the more useful it’ll be."

  Yán summoned a second flying sword and glanced over at Liú Yīrán, who stood watching from the courtyard steps. "She doesn’t have one," he said softly.

  Lù Tiān turned and waved a hand. A simple but sturdy sword of pale spirit-iron materialized beside her, held aloft by his Qi. "You’ll need this one day," he said. "For now, stay here and cultivate."

  Liú Yīrán nodded, holding the sword tightly with both hands, eyes wide.

  Yán stepped onto his flying sword, rising slowly. Lù Tiān, lacking one of his own, simply walked forward and with a ripple of Qi beneath his feet, began gliding into the sky, as though the very air obeyed his will. The two soared through the clouds, moving swiftly over ridges and forests as the stormy horizon loomed ahead.

  Nearly two hours passed in high-speed flight before they reached the base of Thunderveil Peaks. For a while, they traveled in silence, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder and the whistle of wind.

  Then Yán broke the quiet. "You fly without a sword. That’s not something many can do."

  "Not many remember how," Lù Tiān replied calmly. "Once, it was a common method among those who truly mastered their Qi."

  Yán glanced sideways at him. "You're not just some wandering cultivator, are you?"

  Lù Tiān didn’t answer immediately. "I’ve wandered long enough to forget what I was. That’s all that matters."

  As they neared the peaks, the sky darkened further, thick clouds crackling with violet lightning. Below, ancient forests stretched endlessly, their canopies swaying under invisible winds. Occasionally, lightning struck the treetops, illuminating glimpses of beasts fleeing deeper into the shadows. The air grew heavy with electric charge, the smell of ozone sharp and thick.

  Yán pointed ahead. "We’re entering the outer perimeter. Beyond that lies the true storm belt. Once we cross it, the Thunderboar may already be aware of us."

  Lù Tiān nodded slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Let it be. If it runs, I’ll chase it down myself."

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  Crossing the storm belt, the sky raged above them. Bolts of violet lightning danced between clouds. The ground below was scorched black from years of storms. Suddenly, a deep bellow cracked through the air. From the shadows of a craggy ridge, the Scarlet Vein Thunderboar emerged five meters long, its hide shimmering with streaks of red lightning, its crimson eyes burning with aggression.

  The beast charged. The ground shattered beneath its weight as lightning crackled across its tusks. Yán let out a sharp breath and met the charge head-on, his sword flashing with pale blue light. Their clash sent shockwaves across the cliffs, lightning bursting as Yán deflected tusks and was forced backward. The Thunderboar didn’t relent. Each charge grew fiercer, more violent.

  Just then, a ripple of Qi spread. Cultivators from Crimson Veil Hall appeared atop the cliffs most at Foundation Establishment, a few at early Core Formation. A broad-shouldered man with a scar across his chin stepped forward, robes embroidered with their sect’s emblem.

  "You dare interfere with Crimson Veil Hall’s prey?" he barked. "That core belongs to us! Do you seek to provoke our sect?"

  Lù Tiān descended like a falling star, his expression unreadable. "And who are you to claim the spoils of another’s hunt?"

  "Zhōu Fēn of Crimson Veil Hall," the man snapped. "Fourth Elder of our sect." He sneered at Yán. "So even Misty Cloud Gate dares to challenge us now?"

  Lù Tiān’s voice turned cold. "You have three breaths. Leave. If you're still here after the third, I’ll kill every last one of you."

  The air trembled under the monstrous killing intent that surged from Lù Tiān. Zhōu Fēn staggered, Qi scattering. The other cultivators backed away in fear.

  "Attack him!" Zhōu Fēn roared. "Kill them both!"

  Lù Tiān raised a hand. A crimson sword of Qi burst from his palm. "Demonshadow Execution."

  The blade tore through the air in a blinding arc. Screams echoed as the wave of demonic sword Qi shredded the front line of disciples. Blood mist sprayed.

  Zhōu Fēn’s eyes widened in horror. But Lù Tiān vanished. He reappeared beside him, seizing his throat. Zhōu Fēn's limbs thrashed, but Lù Tiān’s grip tightened.

  "You challenged me," he said. "Now tell me have you ever felt the pain of your Golden Core being ripped out?"

  Zhōu Fēn’s voice cracked. "W-Wait! Please spare me!"

  Lù Tiān’s hand glowed red. With a sickening pull, he ripped the core from Zhōu Fēn’s chest. Blood sprayed. The man’s body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

  The Thunderboar, agitated, roared again. Yán, bloodied, steadied himself. He prepared a final strike but Lù Tiān moved first. In a flash, he appeared beside Yán, raised a palm, and sent the beast crashing into the cliffside.

  "This damned beast doesn’t know when to die," he muttered.

  He raised a hand to the sky. "Heavenfall Demon Palm."

  A colossal crimson palm descended. The Thunderboar was annihilated.

  When the dust cleared, only its core remained. Lù Tiān drew it to himself. "We’re done here."

  Their return flight was quiet. Storms thinned. The sky cleared.

  Yán, still tense, said, "The Crimson Veil Hall won’t let this go. We’ve made a powerful enemy."

  Lù Tiān didn’t look at him. "Let them come."

  When they reached Misty Cloud Gate, Lù Tiān turned to Yán. "Bring me the other ingredients. I will begin the refinement."

  Though Lù Tiān was not a famed alchemist in the God Realm, the Sword Dao Pavilion had housed masters of every Dao. One of his mentors had once been a peak Dan Dao Master. Though Lù Tiān had never focused on pills, his brilliance extended far beyond the sword.

  Even weakened, he believed he could refine a Heaven-tier pill. Enough to mend Yán’s fractured core. Perhaps even push him toward the Profound Core stage.

  He stood tall, white hair fluttering in the breeze.

  "I’ll do what I can," he said. "Have the ingredients prepared."

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