The great hall of the Mount Hua Sect was dead silent. Not a breath was drawn, not a sleeve rustled. A hundred of the most powerful men in the Jianghu were on their knees, heads bowed to the floor. They knelt not before a king or an emperor, but before a young man in simple cloth robes who looked like he could be anyone’s live-in son-in-law. But the pressure radiating from him was heavier than a mountain. The sheer density of his Inner Qi made the very air thick and hard to breathe. He had just performed a miracle—no, something beyond a miracle. He had grasped a fatal, esoteric poison with his bare hand, crushed its malevolent will, and revealed it as a mere key. Lu Feng stood over the now-recovering Sect Master Chen, his expression indifferent. He was no longer the meek, head-bowed servant of the Su family. He was the Dragon Sovereign, Long Shen, and his patience for the games of mortals had worn thin. His gaze, cold and ancient, swept across the kneeling Grandmasters. Each man felt that gaze like a physical touch, a divine probe that saw past their flesh and bone, directly into the secrets of their souls. They trembled. Who was this being? What ancient god had they offended? “The Dark Alliance is not your true enemy,” Lu Feng’s voice cut through the silence. It was not loud, but it resonated in their very meridians. “They are merely scavengers, drawn to a power they cannot hope to control. The true enemy… is ambition. Greed.” His eyes stopped, locking onto one figure. Grandmaster Wei of the Iron Fist Sect. A man famed for his stern justice and unwavering loyalty to the righteous path for over a century. His beard was white as snow, his face a mask of integrity. “Stand up, Wei,” Lu Feng commanded. Grandmaster Wei, confused but obedient, slowly rose to his feet. He bowed his head respectfully. “Lord… how may this old one serve you?” “You can tell me why you betrayed them all,” Lu Feng said flatly. The accusation hung in the air, a bolt of lightning in the silent hall. The other masters looked up, their faces etched with disbelief. Grandmaster Wei? A traitor? Impossible! Wei’s face paled, then flushed with indignant rage. “What nonsense is this?! I have dedicated my life to the Jianghu! I have bled for the righteous sects! How dare you slander me with such a baseless accusation!” Several other sect leaders stirred, finding their courage. “My Lord, surely there is a mistake,” one ventured, his voice trembling. “Grandmaster Wei’s reputation is impeccable.” “He is a pillar of our alliance!” another added. Lu Feng almost smiled. It was a cold, cruel thing. “Reputation? Pillars? You mortals build your houses on sand.” He looked directly at Wei, his eyes seeing through the century of cultivated pretense. “The key you planted in Master Chen was sloppy work. You left a trace of your own Inner Qi signature woven into its matrix. A foul, greedy stench that has clung to you for fifty years.” Wei’s eyes widened in pure terror. That was a secret he thought had died with his master half a century ago—a forbidden technique he had used to absorb a rival’s true essence. No one could have known. No one. The mask of integrity shattered. Raw panic replaced it. He knew he was caught. There was no escape from a being who could see the sins staining a man’s soul. His desperation turned to fury. “Lies! You are a demon, a false sovereign sent to tear us apart from within!” he roared, trying to rally the others. “Do not listen to him! We must strike him down for the good of the Jianghu!” With a guttural cry, Grandmaster Wei erupted with power. His entire lifetime of cultivation, a century of painstakingly gathered true essence, surged through his meridians. His fists began to glow with a blinding golden light—the ultimate technique of the Iron Fist Sect, a move said to be able to shatter a city gate. “DIE!” he screamed, lunging forward, his attack cleaving the air itself. The other masters recoiled in shock. The sheer force of the blow was enough to annihilate anyone in its path. Lu Feng did not move. He did not even blink. He simply raised one hand, palm open, as if to catch a falling leaf. The world seemed to stop. Wei’s cataclysmic attack, his fists of golden light, his century of power—it all slammed into an invisible, immovable barrier a foot from Lu Feng’s palm. The golden light flickered, struggled, and then dissolved into nothingness. Grandmaster Wei was frozen in his attack pose, suspended in mid-air, his face a perfect sculpture of disbelief and horror. “You coveted power you cannot comprehend,” Lu Feng’s voice was a whisper of ice and death. “You sought to unlock a tomb that holds the end of all things. For this, your martial path is over.” He slowly, deliberately, clenched his raised hand into a fist. It was not a physical attack. It was an act of supreme will. An order given to reality itself. Inside Grandmaster Wei’s body, a sound like a thousand panes of glass shattering at once echoed in the silence. His meridians, the pathways of his Inner Qi, the very foundation of his being as a martial artist, were not just broken. They were annihilated. Turned to dust. A scream tore from Wei’s throat, a sound so filled with agony and loss it chilled the souls of all who heard it. The golden light vanished from his body. His powerful muscles withered in an instant. His hair turned from white to a brittle grey, and his skin sagged on his bones. All the vitality his cultivation had preserved for a century was gone. He dropped to the stone floor like a sack of broken bones, no longer a revered Grandmaster, but a frail, powerless old man, gasping and weeping as he clawed at his now-empty dantian. The remaining sect masters stared, their blood frozen in their veins. This was a fate far more terrifying than death. To have one’s entire life, one’s identity, erased with a single gesture. This was not the power of a man. This was the judgment of a god. Lu Feng ignored the pathetic creature whimpering on the ground. His gaze returned to the kneeling crowd, every man now prostrated so low their foreheads were pressed firmly to the cold stone. “He was not the only one,” Lu Feng stated, his words extinguishing the last embers of hope. “The Dark Alliance promised him secrets from the Dragon Sovereign’s tomb. They promised him a shortcut to a power he could never earn.” He paused, letting the terror build, letting them contemplate their own hidden greeds and secret ambitions. “They seek to unseal an ancient evil. An evil my ancestors bound at the cost of their own lives.” His voice dropped, becoming a blade of pure killing intent that promised endless pain. “They think a few scattered traitors will grant them victory. They do not know the truth.” Lu Feng’s eyes narrowed, a universe of cold fury swirling within them. “The Dragon Order is not just a token of command. It is the final seal on that prison. And only the Dragon Sovereign… is the key.”

Unmasking the Traitor