An hour passed in tense silence as Zhu Ren continued her cultivation. Despite the elders’ fears, no further attacks came.

Jin Shu maintained his ripple near her, poised to intercept any incoming threat. His eyes drifted to the core elders forming an impenetrable wall around Zhu Ren. Among them stood Sun Mei’er and Lu Cha—shoulder to shoulder, looking more like close sisters than recent rivals.

The only elders absent from the defense were Sect Master Chen Ai Yun, Grand Elder Feng Lian, and a woman Jin Shu didn’t recognize at first. But the clues made her identity clear.

First, the word punishment was boldly embroidered across her back. Second, she held a blood-soaked sword in one hand. And finally, she bore a striking resemblance to Zhu Ren.

She was Zhu Jian—head of the Punishment Hall, Sword Dao cultivator, and Zhu Ren’s aunt.

Zhu Jian had dragged the surviving attacker to the back of the elders’ platform. With Chen Ai Yun’s assistance, she erected a sound-isolating formation and began the interrogation.

Jin Shu glanced back once—and instantly regretted it.

Even with Gold’s memories, filled with war and death, nothing had prepared him for the horror within that translucent barrier. The bloody scene chilled him to the bone.

When Zhu Jian finally emerged, she was calmly wiping blood from her hands with a white handkerchief—one that quickly turned crimson.

She approached Chen Ai Yun and knelt ten paces away, one fist wrapped in her other hand.

“This subordinate has failed the Sect Master. I allowed demonic remnants to run rampant. Please punish me.”

Chen Ai Yun lifted her with a wave of her hand, supporting her with qi.

“Tell me what you learned.”

Zhu Jian saluted once more before answering. “The two girls Zhu Ren maimed were demonic cultivators even before joining the sect. They worked together to bully weaker disciples until those disciples, filled with resentment, were vulnerable to corruption—and then they planned to push them onto the demonic path.”

Chen Ai Yun nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yes. They have a handler outside the sect. While they passed information to him, they never revealed our location. They were hoping to deliver that information personally to the Demonic Cult’s leader to earn extra merit. Fortunately, they never got the chance.”

“Good.” Chen Ai Yun gave a tight nod. “Now, onto brighter news. Your niece is a once-in-a-lifetime genius. She will be one of our sect’s future cornerstones.”

“Thank you, Sect Master. I will teach her properly.”

As the phenomenon subsided, the dagger-wielding woman began to descend. With each inch she lowered, her form shrank, until she hovered briefly above Zhu Ren’s forehead—now a mere five inches tall—before merging into her.

Zhu Ren’s eyes snapped open. She glanced around at the circle of elders surrounding her. Rising smoothly from her cross-legged position, she bowed low.

“Zhu Ren thanks the elders for their protection.”

The elders nodded, offering words of praise and congratulations.

“Our sect’s first Dao Spirit Manifestation—excellent. You’ll be a great pillar of our strength in the years to come.”

“I always knew you were talented, but even I underestimated you.”

Zhu Ren cupped her fist and bowed again, blinking as Vice-Sect Master Sun Mei’er stepped forward.

“Zhu Ren, congratulations on awakening a Dao Spirit,” Sun Mei’er said with a gentle smile. “I have a proposition for you. Would you like to hear it?”

“…This isn’t about your son, is it?”

“Oh? You knew?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard rumors that you’ve been trying to recruit all the beautiful and powerful disciples to be his wives…”

“So?”

“So… oh, no. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I cultivate the Internal Yin Scripture.”

“Ooh, I see. That’s unfortunate,” Sun Mei’er sighed, theatrically disappointed. “That makes me zero for five. At least two have come around, though!”

Zhu Ren gave her a strange look as the woman’s mood bounced from dejected to cheerful in a blink.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Vice-Sect Master?”

“Oh, right! The Sect Master would like to see you. Why don’t you follow me up?”

Zhu Ren nodded and fell in behind her as they ascended to the elders’ platform, the rest of the elders following, still vigilant despite the worst having passed.

Meanwhile, Jin Shu finally released his technique and slumped into a chair, the accumulated mental and qi strain hitting him all at once.

Ripple Walk usually consumed very little qi—the technique relied on his communication with the Wind and Water elements. But after using it continuously for over an hour, he discovered its hidden cost: the longer it ran, the more qi it drained, and the mental effort to sustain it was no joke.

He might not be able to open another ripple for hours without risking collapse.

“You look pale. Are you alright?” Biyu asked.

He didn’t even open his eyes. “Tired…” he groaned.

A moment later, he felt two soft hands on his shoulders. They began to massage the tension from his muscles, and a smooth stream of qi entered his body, soothing and revitalizing him.

He cracked his eyes open and looked back at Biyu’s gently smiling face.

“Is this Dr. Chi’s massage technique?”

She nodded. “That, and my physique’s healing ability.”

“Thanks.”

Her qi didn’t restore his own, but it eased his fatigue—especially the mental fog.

After a few minutes, she withdrew her hands, just as Zhu Ren and the elders reached the platform.

Zhu Ren stepped forward and bowed deeply to Chen Ai Yun. “Thank you for saving me.”

“It wasn’t me you should thank,” Chen Ai Yun said with a small smile. “It was Jin Shu who saved you from that last attack.”

Zhu Ren blinked, then glanced up at Jin Shu. “She did? How?”

“Forgive me,” Chen Ai Yun said, “but I won’t reveal Jin Shu’s techniques—especially while she remains a competitor in the tournament.”

“Oh… right. Sorry.”

Chen Ai Yun waved it off. “More importantly, you have two choices now. One: remain here under protection and withdraw from the tournament. Or two: rejoin the tournament and use the battles to deepen your Dao.”

“Um… isn’t it dangerous to fight right after a breakthrough?”

Chen Ai Yun blinked, then glanced at Zhu Jian. “Oh? Your aunt didn’t explain Dao Spirits to you?”

“I did!” Zhu Jian snapped. “But this unfilial child never listens!”

“Hmph! Maybe I would’ve listened if you stopped going on and on about Sword Dao training!” Zhu Ren retorted.

“You—!”

“That’s enough,” Chen Ai Yun said, her voice calm but firm. “Let me explain. When one manifests a Dao Spirit, the instability of a recent breakthrough no longer matters. The Dao is solid—unshakable.”

“So… I can still fight?”

“Yes. In fact, it will help you deepen your understanding of your Dao—the Dao of the Dagger Goddess.”

“…Right. What is that, exactly?”

Chen Ai Yun nodded. “I didn’t expect you to know—it’s a very old and nearly forgotten Dao.”

She motioned to an empty seat. “Sit. I will tell you a story to shed light on your new path.”

Then she turned to the stadium. “Elders, allow the spectators to retake their seats.”

Her voice rolled out over the crowd. “Now, before the tournament resumes, I will share a story with all of you.”

The spectators, still murmuring with leftover tension from Zhu Ren’s breakthrough, began to settle once more, drawn in by the promise of a tale and the mystery of a newly awakened Dao.

“To begin, for those who do not know,” Chen Ai Yun’s voice rang clear, “Zhu Ren has awakened a Dao Spirit. Unlike the spirits of ordinary Spirit Realm cultivators—used in battle—a Dao Spirit is internal. It is a guide to seeking the Dao.”

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Seek the Dao?”

“Does that mean Zhu Ren is a Dao cultivator now?”

“I’ve heard of this before… it means the Dao chose her, unlike most cultivators who must struggle to comprehend one.”

As the whispers quieted, Chen Ai Yun continued.

“This is the story of Zhu Ren’s Dao—the Dao of the Dagger Goddess.” Her voice grew wistful. “It begins with a woman. She was neither beautiful nor powerful. In fact, she was a simple mortal. A wife, with a husband and a young child. They lived an ordinary life—he, a woodcutter, and their son a lively, curious boy.”

She paused, letting the image take root.

“One day, the wife went into town to buy ingredients for dinner. When she returned, her life changed forever. While she was gone, a demon escaped hell. The place it emerged… was just outside her home. Smelling fresh blood, the demon celebrated its freedom with a feast—a feast of human flesh.”

Gasps echoed through the stadium.

“It devoured the husband and child, tearing them apart, drinking their blood. When the wife returned, she found ruins where her home had stood. Her family was gone—but the demon had not bothered to hide its trail. She took the kitchen knife she used daily to prepare their meals… and began to hunt it.”

The disbelief among the audience thickened.

“A mortal… hunting a demon?”

“With nothing but a knife?”

Chen Ai Yun raised her voice above the growing unrest. “Yes. The demon was powerful—far beyond her reach. It could travel thousands of li in a single day, while she could only manage a hundred before collapsing. Yet she never stopped. For years, she tracked it across the continent, following its carnage.”

“Along the way, she faced beasts, bandits, even cultivators who tried to rob or assault her. She killed them all. No matter how battered her body, she held onto that knife. Even when she couldn’t walk, she held it in her teeth and crawled forward. She was relentless.”

Whispers spread again. Disbelief. Awe.

Finally, someone called out, “Sect Master, forgive me, but how could a mortal kill cultivators with a kitchen knife? It would be mere steel. Even Body Realm cultivators can ignore ordinary blades.”

Chen Ai Yun nodded. “Indeed. She shouldn’t have been able to. But what if… the Dao aided her?”

“But if she cultivated the Dao,” someone countered, “wouldn’t that make her a Dao cultivator? Not mortal?”

“She did not cultivate the Dao,” Chen Ai Yun replied, smiling. “She was the Dao. She and her knife became one. Together, they forged something new: the Dao of the Dagger Goddess.”

Gasps again. Then rising murmurs.

“She was the Dao?!”

“How is that even possible?”

“Shh! Let her finish!”

Chen Ai Yun let the tension simmer before continuing.

“Years passed. Finally, she found the demon. It had built a palace of human bones atop a mountain. She climbed its jagged slopes, her blood painting the stones. For three days and nights, she climbed. And then, she stood before it.”

‘Oh? A mortal woman dared climb my Demon Mountain?’ the demon said, more amused than alarmed. ‘I can smell your hatred. Have you come to kill me? What a laugh. I am invincible.’

“The woman answered only with two names. ‘Lu Fan. Lu Bu.’”

‘What are you muttering?’

‘You killed my husband, Lu Fan, and my son, Lu Bu. For that, I will kill you. Even if you truly are invincible.’

“The demon burst into laughter. ‘Wonderful! You amuse me, woman! You will die here, crushed beneath me!’

“It raised its hand, black demonic qi coiling through the air, binding her and pulling her close. She was powerless to resist. But… she had never planned to.”

Chen Ai Yun’s voice softened.

“The demon sneered. ‘You feel no fear. Why?’

‘Because I fear not death,’ she said. ‘Only the chance I might fail to kill you. The heavens threw me into despair—but they gave me this one hope. I’ll cut you both down!’

“In that instant, the knife in her hand moved. It cut through the demon’s qi like paper, then through the demon's neck, and finally through the heavens themselves. That cut… was her Dao. A Dao carved into the sky itself. And thus, the Dagger Goddess was born—a mortal woman, with nothing but a kitchen knife.”