The air outside the cavern was sharp and bracing, washing over Jian like a cleansing tide. Yet, the profound, internal thrum of his newly formed Foundation Establishment core resonated through him, a boundless well of crimson Qi that promised limitless power, far outstripping the brief coolness of the morning breeze. The Art of a Thousand Blood Swords, a horrifying vision of annihilating intent, pulsed in his mind, waiting to be unleashed. He was no longer merely 'Van 999', a masked aspirant; he was a storm, contained and coiled, ready to break. The Sky Cloud Sect lay before him, a tapestry of white stone and gilded roofs gleaming under the nascent sun, completely oblivious to the leviathan now walking among them.
Let them prepare their defences, he had thought. Let them steel their heart
