I stepped forward and raised my voice so it carried across the pavilion.

  “I wish to address the lord of Xincheng,” I declared, my tone sharp and deliberate. “This man, Huang Long, has committed a grievous crime. He abused his power to oppress those weaker than himself, assaulted an innocent man in public, and humiliated his victim before his peers.”

  I turned, sweeping my gaze across the assembled cultivators.

  “You are all cultivators who claim to walk the righteous path,” I said, shooting blindly on the righteous part. “Then I ask you to judge with unbiased eyes. Scrutinize his deeds. Decide whether such behavior deserves to be excused simply because the perpetrator stands higher.”

  Then I faced the man I assumed to be Lord Meng.

  “My lord,” I said, “I ask you to pass judgment.”

  Two thoughts raced through my mind.

  First: fuck Teng Wen for dragging me straight into the lion’s den and dumping me in front of this many dangerous people.

  Second: fuck my luck.

  Everywhere I looked, levels hovered like silent threats. Nearly everyone here was above Level 100. Several were far higher than Huang Long ever was. Several presences, in particular, loomed like mountains, each well past Level 200. Meng Rong among them.

  I wished, briefly, that I were a heartless bastard who could walk away and let the world burn.

  But I wasn’t.

  And I was already standing in the fire.

  A sudden pressure rolled through the hall.

  An old man stepped forward.

  The air seemed to tighten around him, heavy and biting, like a storm on the verge of breaking.

  [Huang Yong][Level 290]

  The surname hit me before the pressure did.

  Ah. Shit.

  “You are courting death,” he said, his voice cold and carrying effortlessly. “You dare to slander my nephew and, by extension, slander the Dragon Heart Sect.”

  His eyes swept over Huang Long’s battered body, then snapped back to me.

  “My nephew would never commit such vile acts,” Huang Yong continued. “It is far more likely that you are the criminal here. Explain why he lies broken at your feet.”

  “I have a witness who saw everything—” I began.

  “Enough,” he cut in sharply. “Justice does not require your excuses.”

  He lifted his hand.

  “I will teach you a lesson you will never forget,” he said. “Accept one palm strike. That shall be your punishment for the injustice you have inflicted.”

  The qi gathered instantly as wind screamed and thunder roared. His palm strike came wrapped in raging gales and crackling force, tearing through the air toward me. Fear slammed into me hard enough to steal my breath.

  I reacted on instinct.

  The bat was already in my hands.

  I braced and swung, invoking the mechanic burned into my bones.

  [Parry.]

  The impact was catastrophic. The force shattered against my guard, dispersing the damage, but only partially. Pain detonated through my body. My vision swam as blood surged up my throat, spilling onto the floor.

  [Health: 60%]

  If that connected, I would’ve lost 80% of health. This bastard wasn’t testing me. He was trying to kill me for real. But the system responded all the same.

  The successful parry ‘stunned’ him.

  I lost my composure completely at almost being killed.

  “Eat this,” I roared. “Heavenly Punishment!”

  I brought the bat down with everything I had. Thunder cracked as the strike landed squarely against his head, the sound ringing sharp and brutal through the pavilion.

  Huang Yong staggered.

  I didn’t let up.

  [Energy: 55%]

  “Bat of the Mad Dog!”

  My bat became a blur, a storm of wild, merciless strikes hammering into his body from every angle such chest, shoulders, ribs, and wherever I could land a hit.

  [Energy: 20%]

  I felt quite out of breath.

  The old man was thrown backward, crashing onto the stone floor.

  A grim satisfaction settled in my chest after the exchange, but it didn’t last long.

  The disciples of the Dragon Heart Sect erupted into angry shouts, pointing at me as if I were some abomination.

  “Demon!”

  “Beast!”

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  “Evil cultivator!”

  The noise grated on my nerves.

  Huang Yong pushed himself upright, blood pouring freely from his nose and staining his beard. His eyes burned with venom as he pointed straight at me.

  “He uses evil sorcery!” he shouted. “This is demonic art!”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  On second thought, maybe I hadn’t hit him hard enough.

  [Huang Yong][Health: 67%]

  The number flickered calmly before my vision, mocking me. Despite catching him off guard and unloading two special moves back-to-back, this old bastard still had more than half his health left. If this were YKU back in my world, I would have needed precise inputs and perfect timing to pull that off. Here, all it took was a thought.

  It seemed I have enough Spirit Coins to buy a couple Energy Drink and finish him for real. If this became a life and death battle, I’m taking him with me.

  I turned away from him and addressed the man seated at the center.

  “My lord,” I said firmly, “what I did was a clear act of self-defense. I am by no means at fault.”

  Before Meng Wu could respond, a sharp voice cut through the chaos.

  “Enough!”

  Meng Rong stepped forward, her presence pressing down on the hall like a sudden tide. Her gaze swept over the Dragon Heart Sect disciples, icy and commanding. “The Dragon Heart Sect will stand down,” she said. “My brother, Meng Wu, and I will get to the bottom of this matter.”

  So that was the lord’s name.

  Meng Wu.

  The lord of Xincheng rose slowly from his seat, his expression composed but heavy with scrutiny.

  “You mentioned a witness,” he said, looking directly at me.

  “There are many,” I replied. “Any random bystander outside the Red Ember Inn could recount what happened. However, I brought someone of noteworthy character, someone whose words should carry the most weight. A key witness.”

  I raised my voice.

  “Tao Fang of the Peaceful Lake Sect,” I called out. “Please step forward and greet the lord.”

  Tao Fang entered the hall, cupped his fist respectfully, and bowed.

  “This humble one greets Lord Meng,” he said. “I witnessed the entire incident.”

  Meng Wu nodded, then continued calmly, “If there is a perpetrator, then there must also be a victim.”

  I turned slightly and raised my voice again.

  “Bring in Jia Bao,” I said. “Known as the Silver Sword.”

  The doors opened.

  Tao Yu entered, carrying Jia Bao on her back.

  A ripple of shock passed through the pavilion.

  “A Body Tempering cultivator beaten to this state?”

  “At such an early stage?”

  “That’s quite a beating to someone of inferior realm.”

  Another voice murmured, “The young master Huang doesn’t look much better.”

  Meng Wu frowned slightly, his gaze shifting between the injured men.

  “With only this number of witnesses,” he said, “it would be difficult to judge fairly.”

  “That is why,” I said evenly, “I asked honorable warrior Teng Wen and trusted guard of the lord to bring more witnesses from the Red Ember Inn.”

  As if on cue, Teng Wen strode in, followed by more than a dozen cultivators. Their presence filled the hall, the murmurs growing louder as they took in the scene.

  The truth was, it had taken time to get here for a reason.

  Convincing Teng Wen to bring additional witnesses had not been easy. Convincing him to allow us into a banquet filled with cultivators from multiple powerful sects had been even harder. When I learned the lord was hosting such an event, I had nearly backed out.

  But standing there now, under the watchful eyes of multiple factions, I knew this was the right call. If justice was going to be done, it was better to do it openly, unmistakably, and in front of everyone who mattered.

  A young man with a slender build stepped forward from among the seated cultivators. He wore white and blue robes embroidered with faint star patterns, his posture straight and composed. He cupped his fist politely.

  “Yao Yazhu of the Phantasm Star Sect,” he introduced himself. “I trust that Lord Meng possesses the wisdom and integrity to pass judgment fairly, without bias, upon the perpetrator.”

  His words were calm, measured, and carried weight. A subtle shift passed through the hall.

  Then a sturdily built man in yellow robes spoke next. His shoulders were broad, his bearing steady, like a mountain that refused to yield.

  “Dong Li of the Boulder Path Sect,” he said loudly. “The blood of my ancestors demands that I stand with the righteous path. I, too, place my faith in Lord Meng to judge this matter justly.”

  With that, the balance in the room tipped.

  Huang Yong ground his teeth, his expression twisting as he looked from one sect representative to another. The old man looked uncertain, torn between challenging his peers or abandoning his nephew outright. His lips trembled as he muttered under his breath.

  “How dare they look down on me…”

  I almost snorted.

  No one was looking down on him. This was simply the consequence of Huang Long screwing up spectacularly.

  Huang Long lifted his bloodied face, his eyes swollen and unfocused. He crawled a step forward and clutched weakly at Huang Yong’s robe.

  “Uncle,” he cried hoarsely. “Please… don’t abandon me.”

  The hall went quiet.

  Huang Yong stared down at him for a long moment, his face hardening. Then he spoke, his voice cold and final.

  “From this moment on, Huang Long has nothing to do with the Dragon Heart Sect, nor the Huang Clan. If the lord deems him guilty, then he shall be judged by the laws of this land.”

  The words landed like a blade.

  Huang Long was expelled, disowned, and cut off entirely.

  He broke down instantly, sobbing as his shoulders shook. For the first time since I’d met the guy, I felt a genuine pang of pity. No matter how arrogant he’d been, that kind of severance was brutal.

  Surely… they weren’t going to sentence him to death, right?

  What followed was long and exhaustive.

  One by one, the witnesses spoke. Martial artists from the Red Ember Inn recounted what they saw. Tao Fang detailed the confrontation. Jia Bao, pale and trembling, told his side through clenched teeth. Even those who initially praised Huang Long’s strength now avoided his gaze as they spoke.

  Huang Long tried to defend himself, arguing desperately, contradicting accounts, and grasping at technicalities. But the room had already turned against him. Every word he spoke only dug him deeper.

  At last, Meng Wu raised his hand.

  Silence fell instantly.

  “I have come to a decision,” he said.

  Everyone held their breath.

  “Huang Long is guilty of using his cultivation to oppress the weak, assaulting an innocent party, and disturbing public order.”

  Huang Long collapsed forward, his forehead hitting the floor as he cried openly.

  Huang Yong stepped forward once more.

  “My lord,” he said stiffly, “this old man suggests a fitting punishment. Destroy his energy core. I believe it’s within the land’s laws to bestow such punishment to cultivators who overextended there bounds.”

  A collective reaction rippled through the hall with sharp inhales, widened eyes, and stiffened postures. I didn’t know the full implications of that sentence, but judging from everyone’s expressions, it was far worse than I had imagined.

  Meng Wu nodded once, his expression grave. “I permit it.”

  Huang Yong stepped forward.

  Huang Long scrambled backward on the floor, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his abdomen with both hands.

  “Uncle—no! Please, Uncle! I was wrong! I was wrong!” he cried, his voice breaking into hoarse sobs. “Don’t do this! Don’t take it away!”

  Huang Yong looked down at him, his face unreadable.

  “You should have learned restraint when you still had the chance,” he said coldly. “Since you refused, you must now pay the price for your unruliness.”

  Without further hesitation, he struck. His fist drove into Huang Long’s abdomen with terrifying precision. There was no explosive sound, and no dramatic flare of light. Just a dull, suffocating impact that made my stomach twist.

  Huang Long let out a scream that chilled the hall.

  “It’s gone! It’s gone!” he wailed, his eyes bloodshot as he collapsed, clutching himself as if trying to hold something together that no longer existed.

  I felt my scalp prickle.

  This was worse than killing him. Whatever an energy core was, losing it clearly meant the end of everything Huang Long had built as a cultivator.

  Huang Yong withdrew his hand and turned toward Meng Wu. He cupped his fist solemnly.

  “My lord,” he said, “this old man will send Huang Long to a monastery. He will become a monk, sever worldly desires, and repent for the sins he has committed.”

  Meng Wu inclined his head slightly, accepting the declaration.

  I stood there in silence, watching Huang Long sob on the floor, utterly broken.

  Cultivators were terrifying.

  Not because of their strength, but because of how easily they could decide a person’s entire fate with a single motion of their hand.

  Ah, I want to go home.