She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 74

Because he remembered—these two new junior siblings hadn’t served tea one after the other. They had done it together!

The disciple couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.

If only I’d strung a red thread above their heads earlier—whoever touched it first would’ve been ranked higher.

Ji Qinghong cheerfully suggested, "Then let’s just rank them both as third."

The disciple: "…It’s not that I’m deliberately making things difficult for your peak, but… there’s simply no precedent for this."

How was he even supposed to record this?

Just declaring them equal like that—does Ji Qinghong think they’re twins or something?

Ji Qinghong lazily yawned and chuckled. "Well, if that’s the case, I don’t know either. Why not let them settle it with rock-paper-scissors?"

The disciple: "…"

Still clinging to the last shreds of authority, he cautiously reminded, "The junior siblings are still young, and this concerns sect records. Let’s not treat it too lightly. Besides… what if they can’t agree?"

Unexpectedly, the moment this possibility was raised, Ji Qinghong’s eyes lit up.

"If they really can’t decide, then it’s even simpler. For the first half of the month, Luoyue can be the senior sister, and Manshuang the junior brother. For the second half, they can switch."

The disciple: "…"

What kind of madness is this?! In my three or four years of record-keeping, I’ve never heard of such a thing!

Meanwhile, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang exchanged a glance, their expressions clearly intrigued.

Huh… Master’s idea actually sounds pretty good!

Noticing the disciple’s hesitation, Ji Qinghong tossed out another proposal.

"If that still doesn’t work, we can just separate their seniority."

"Meaning…?"

Ji Qinghong explained, "For example, Luoyue could become Manshuang’s disciple, making her my grand-disciple—"

"…"

At this bold suggestion, not only the registrar disciple but even Jiang Tingbai, standing nearby, couldn’t help but close his eyes in exasperation.

Yan Luoyue: "?"

How did I get dragged into this?!

Seeing her status about to be downgraded for no reason, Yan Luoyue immediately stepped forward to defend her rights.

"Senior Brother Jiang introduced me to Master first."

Ji Qinghong smoothly added, "True. And then you introduced Manshuang to me."

Hearing this, the disciple sighed in relief.

"Then I’ll record it in that order?"

Wu Manshuang thought for a moment, then lightly tugged Yan Luoyue’s sleeve. When she looked over, he tilted his head slightly—a simple gesture, but one of their long-established silent signals.

In this case, he was asking: Do you want to be the senior sister?

Yan Luoyue responded with a firm look: Yes!

Wu Manshuang immediately declared, "She’ll be the junior sister."

With that, their ranking was finally settled.

As if afraid the group might change their minds, the disciple swiftly recorded Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s names under Ji Qinghong’s lineage.

The moment the names were written, a golden light flashed across the heavy registry.

This book contained the records of every disciple in Guiyuan Sect since its founding.

Even a hundred or a thousand generations later, as long as the sect endured, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s names would remain preserved for future generations to study.

After a moment of contemplation, Ji Qinghong finally realized why this "disciple recruiting disciple, who then recruits another disciple" model felt so familiar.

With deep emotion, he asked, "Are you all running a pyramid scheme on me?"

"…"

The registrar disciple, who had just stepped over Sulu Hall’s threshold, tripped and nearly tumbled down the courtyard path.

The next second, he sprinted down the mountain, clutching the registry to his chest as if his life depended on it.

At this rate, he might never set foot in this den of absurdity again.

Watching her reputation plummet—from "troublemaker" to "pyramid schemer"—Yan Luoyue widened her eyes in protest.

"Master, that’s unfair… Gathering friends to study under a great teacher… How is that a pyramid scheme?!"

Unlike Yan Luoyue’s indignation, Wu Manshuang took a more pragmatic approach.

If they were already being accused, they might as well get something out of it.

With polite restraint, he said, "Master is wise. Master sees the truth."

Ji Qinghong: "?"

Sitting up slightly in his chair, Ji Qinghong raised a brow.

Wu Manshuang met his gaze through the white veil and continued earnestly, "Actually, I have another friend—Ling Shuanghun. He’s a good person…"

Ji Qinghong: "…"

Jiang Tingbai and Yan Luoyue exchanged glances, barely holding back laughter.

With an amused smirk, Ji Qinghong flicked his fingers.

A sudden gust of wind swept through, sending all three scheming disciples tumbling out the door.

"Clearly, you all have too much free time."

As she was blown away, Yan Luoyue stuck out her tongue at Wu Manshuang.

Grinning, she teased, "Junior brother, junior brother, junior brother~"

Seeing her delight in the title, Wu Manshuang smiled softly and replied, "Yes, junior sister."

…

This leisurely pace didn’t last long.

Soon, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were summoned by Ji Qinghong to discuss their plans for the coming months.

"An exchange for martial teachings?"

Hearing this somewhat unfamiliar term, Yan Luoyue couldn't help but repeat it. At the same time, she noticed a message paper crane placed beside Ji Qinghong’s hand, its wings stamped with a seal that looked very familiar.

“Mm,” Ji Qinghong said leisurely, propping his chin on his hand. “Now that I’ve taken the two of you as my disciples, the ‘Dharma Exchange’ for artifact and formation techniques can begin.”

The so-called “Dharma Exchange” was a tradition left over from the Demon-Subjugation War.

Do you remember? During the Demon-Subjugation War, humans and demons suffered repeated defeats, forced to retreat again and again. The two races were pushed to the brink of collapse under the overwhelming pressure of the demonic armies.

In their desperation, they exchanged large numbers of talented young disciples, hoping these individuals could preserve the knowledge, techniques, and history of both races.

These disciples were called “Dharma Bearers.”

Each disciple typically mastered a unique skill, specializing in one or several fields such as alchemy, artifact forging, swordsmanship, formations, or talismans.

In the “Exile to Foreign Lands” plan, they were key figures meant to be preserved.

To prevent tragedies like “a disciple’s death leading to the loss of a technique,” people deliberately arranged for these disciples to interact with one another.

This interaction was called the “Dharma Exchange.”

The Dharma Bearers would learn from each other, ensuring that each of them acquired at least a basic understanding of the other disciplines.

It was the last safety net prepared for the direst of circumstances.

Now, three thousand years later, the tradition had been greatly simplified.

From the original multitude of Dharma Bearers, it evolved into five representative peaks for each of the five disciplines.

The exchange method also shifted from the mandatory “you can’t leave until you learn” to “Dharma Bearers only need to stay at the other peaks for two or three months.”

For example, Ji Qinghong was the Dharma Bearer for the “artifact” and “formation” paths of the Guiyuan Sect. The peak where he resided was the Dharma Peak for these two disciplines.

Thus, as his disciples, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang would take turns staying at the Sword Peak, Alchemy Peak, and Talisman Peak.

Hearing this, Yan Luoyue raised her hand and asked a question.

“Did Senior Brother Jiang and Master Mi also go through this rotation?”

The answer was no.

Despite Ji Qinghong mastering two disciplines, neither his first nor second disciple inherited his legacy.

It wasn’t until Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang—this “double yolk”—were accepted that the Guiyuan Sect finally filled the long-vacant roles for artifact and formation techniques in the Dharma Exchange.

“Your first exchange will likely be with Sword Peak.”

Ji Qinghong spoke with gentle, fatherly concern:

“After you return, pack your belongings. If you’re missing anything, you can ask Jiang Tingbai to deliver it for you.”

Seeing Ji Qinghong adopt this considerate attitude, Yan Luoyue immediately felt a twinge of foreboding.

“By the way, Master, has our Radish Peak ever had any conflicts with other peaks in the sect?”

Ji Qinghong pondered for a moment.

He corrected Yan Luoyue’s phrasing and offered a more reasonable suggestion: “You might as well ask me—which peak hasn’t our peak had conflicts with?”

Yan Luoyue: “…” She knew it!

Before Yan Luoyue could react with dismay, Ji Qinghong comforted her:

“But don’t worry. Out of respect for me, they won’t treat you poorly.”

“…How so?”

Ji Qinghong rested his cheek on one hand and smiled with self-awareness. “Because meeting me has already used up all the misfortune in your lives.”

Yan Luoyue: “…”

……

Before the Sword Peak disciples arrived, Yan Luoyue suddenly realized she was about to shed her shell.

Just as snakes shed their skin, turtles also shed their shells at a certain age.

Unlike Wu Manshuang, who had lived in isolation since childhood, Yan Luoyue grew up among her turtle kin and was very familiar with this phenomenon. She had even played with the shell fragments shed by Sister Yu alongside Yan Gan.

In nature, ordinary young turtles shed their shells about every six months.

During the shedding process, the edges of the shell would lift slightly, forming a white border that would gradually peel off over time.

The shed fragments were usually thin, piece by piece, about as thick as a young girl’s fingernail.

But when it came to turtle demons, the process was different.

Turtle demons shed their shells less frequently, but the shed fragments were thicker, harder, and more intact.

Back when Sister Yu had shed her shell, Yan Luoyue had already set her sights on her own shell:

With her HP cheat, she wondered if the shell she shed would be even harder, with higher defense—maybe even self-healing (though that was probably impossible).

After waiting eagerly for this day, she was finally looking forward to it.

Since Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were new disciples unfamiliar with the sect’s environment—and to set a friendly tone for the exchange—Sword Peak specially sent a disciple to escort them.

The visitor was a spirited young man with striking features, a proud demeanor, and an air as sharp as an unsheathed sword.

Upon seeing Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, the Sword Peak disciple bowed first.

“Greetings, Junior Sister and Junior Brother. I am Yuan Feiyu.”

Yuan Feiyu’s voice was clear and resonant, brimming with energy, with a slight upward lilt at the end.

For some reason, Yan Luoyue found it vaguely familiar.

…Ah, right.

Wasn’t this the same voice as the young man she had heard at the Brush-Washing Pond, wishing to “surpass Jiang Tingbai”?

Both were sword cultivators, with identical tones… Hmm, ninety percent chance it was him.

Realizing this, Yan Luoyue’s eyes sparkled, and she discreetly scrutinized Yuan Feiyu again.

—Oh, so you’re the one who wants to surpass Senior Brother Jiang.

Instinctively, she turned to glance at Jiang Tingbai, who had come to see them off.

Jiang Tingbai greeted warmly, “Junior Brother Yuan.”

The moment Yuan Feiyu saw Jiang Tingbai, his back straightened like a ramrod. Now, hearing Jiang Tingbai speak, he raised his chin even higher.

Still too young to match Jiang Tingbai’s height, he compensated by projecting the aura of someone six feet tall.

…Though to Yan Luoyue, it made him look more like a preening peacock.

Still, Yuan Feiyu was truly giving it his all.

Noticing Yuan Feiyu’s fighting spirit, Jiang Tingbai smiled kindly. “What did you want to say to me, Junior Brother Yuan? Take your time.”

Yuan Feiyu didn’t step forward immediately.

First, he bowed to Jiang Tingbai. Then, staring straight at him, he declared with unwavering conviction:

“Senior Brother Jiang, I can now leave a three-inch sword mark on the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele. Within ten years, I will surpass you—to prove that the path of the sword knows no hesitation, only unyielding advance!”

When he uttered the words “no hesitation,” Yuan Feiyu emphasized them with extra force.

He seemed to be using this method to critique Jiang Tingbai's overly gentle sword intent.

Upon hearing this provocative, almost declaration-of-war-like statement, Jiang Tingbai merely smiled.

He encouraged Yuan Feiyu, saying, "Well said, junior brother. Then you must strive harder."

Yuan Feiyu: "..."

He choked up instantly.

It was like throwing a punch with all his strength, only to land it on a pile of cotton.

At this moment, Yuan Feiyu's expression froze in an awkward state, his brows even carrying a trace of bewilderment, making Yan Luoyue find it inexplicably amusing.

Jiang Tingbai gently nudged Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang's shoulders, one on each side.

"Then, Junior Brother Yuan, I entrust these two junior siblings to your care in the future."

Yuan Feiyu stiffly replied, "Senior Brother Jiang, there’s no need for formalities. This is my duty."

It probably wasn’t Yan Luoyue’s imagination.

This somewhat tsundere young swordsman even looked a little puffed up with indignation the moment he turned away.

...

Wu Manshuang and Yan Luoyue followed Yuan Feiyu down the mountain.

Lately, Yan Luoyue’s activities had mostly been confined to Radish Peak.

Once they crossed the stone tablet at the foot of Radish Peak and entered the vast territory of the Guiyuan Sect, she found herself unfamiliar with the surroundings.

Glancing at the young man’s sword-straight back, Yan Luoyue asked with casual familiarity, "Little Yuan Senior Brother, where are we heading next?"

Yuan Feiyu stubbornly corrected her, "Don’t call me 'Little Yuan Senior Brother.' Just 'Senior Brother' is fine. If you must add a prefix, you can call me 'Big Yuan Senior Brother.'"

Yan Luoyue: "..."

She could see it now—this "Little Yuan"—no, Big Yuan Senior Brother—was truly a man of unyielding pride.

Only after settling the title issue did Yuan Feiyu give them a solemn look. "We’re heading to Sword Peak. Stay close."

Though terms like "Talisman Peak," "Pill Peak," and "Sword Peak" seemed to follow the same naming logic, in reality, "Talisman Peak" and "Pill Peak" had other formal names.

These were just nicknames the disciples used out of habit.

But Sword Peak’s name was as plain as it could be—just two simple characters, bluntly declaring the essence of this mountain.

The distance from Radish Peak to Sword Peak wasn’t short.

Big Yuan Senior Brother wasn’t a dull companion either, occasionally exchanging a few words with Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.

Sometimes, when his enthusiasm flared, he would even deliver impassioned speeches.

Like now, as Yuan Feiyu excitedly preached his sword philosophy to the two youngsters:

"The sword is strength. The way of the sword is the path of the relentless strong. Only the eternally strong can remain eternally victorious!"

"Oh." Yan Luoyue blinked. "But my Senior Brother Jiang’s sword intent doesn’t seem like that."

With just that one sentence, Yuan Feiyu instantly puffed up again, this time with a hint of resentment.

"Senior Brother Jiang... of course he isn’t. But even he will one day acknowledge my sword path."

A short while later, the slightly indignant Yuan Feiyu calmed down on his own.

He asked Yan Luoyue, "I practice thirty-six thousand sword swings every morning at dawn. What about you? How many hammer strikes do you make in a day?"

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Hearing the first half, she couldn’t help but marvel inwardly—damn, this Little Yuan Senior Brother was a hardcore overachiever.

But the second half...

Yan Luoyue muttered, "We artifact refiners don’t swing hammers... Little Yuan Senior Brother, do you have some misconceptions about artifact refining?"

"I see." Yuan Feiyu lowered his head slightly.

Then, with an air of feigned nonchalance, he probed further:

"So... what about Senior Brother Jiang Tingbai? How many sword swings does he practice daily?"

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Wu Manshuang answered honestly, "No idea. I’m usually not bored enough to count them one by one."

Yuan Feiyu: "...Oh."

Now, Little Yuan Senior Brother wasn’t puffed up at all—he just looked deflated.

Fortunately, the Cuiwei Sword Pavilion loomed ahead, sparing Yuan Feiyu from prolonged silence.

Spotting the jagged silhouette of the distant peak, Yuan Feiyu unsheathed his sword and bowed deeply toward it.

Noticing Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s curious gazes, he solemnly explained, "That is the Cuiwei Sword Pavilion."

Once, the Cuiwei Sword Pavilion was the sacred ground of sword cultivation, gathering the most swordsmen and housing the most sword manuals in the world.

But now, every three steps held a sword, every five steps a stele—the final resting place of the Guiyuan Sect’s swordsmen who fell in the Demon-Subduing War. The elegance of its past was no more.

Back then, circumstances were dire. Many swordsmen’s remains couldn’t be recovered, so their comrades could only bring back their blades.

Those masterless, broken swords were embedded into the cliffs, standing guard over their owners’ cenotaphs.

It was said that on moonlit nights, the pavilion echoed with the cries of countless swords, rising with the wind as if the blades were erecting beacons, calling for the unyielding souls to return.

Seeing Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang mimic his earlier bow, Yuan Feiyu’s demeanor softened noticeably.

"Before entering Sword Peak, one must first pass the Sword Pavilion. Our Peak Master says that Guiyuan Sect swordsmen must first witness the righteous path walked by their predecessors, so they may know what kind of path they themselves must forge."

Beyond the Cuiwei Sword Pavilion, a towering, precipitous peak stood before the trio.

Yuan Feiyu exhaled softly. "Junior Sister Yan, Junior Brother Wu, this is our Sword Peak."

Though the mountain path lay right before them, Yuan Feiyu turned and led them around to the back instead.

"Little Yuan Senior Brother, aren’t we going straight up from here?"

"Call me Big Yuan Senior Brother... This path is for welcoming guests. As the sect’s inheriting disciples, you’re not guests. Regular Guiyuan Sect disciples must ascend and descend through the sword formations."

At this, Yuan Feiyu paused, giving Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang an assessing glance, as if gauging their cultivation levels.

The three soon passed the first sword formation, its entrance and exit bustling with disciples.

Wu Manshuang immediately recognized that this formation was likely one of the easier ones.

Yet, Yuan Feiyu didn’t stop at all, continuing to lead them onward.

Wu Manshuang spoke up, "Little Yuan Senior Brother, aren’t we taking this one?"

"Why are you calling me 'Little Yuan Senior Brother' too? Big Yuan—call me Big Yuan Senior Brother."

Yuan Feiyu truly lived up to being a swordsman—his persistence over minor details was extraordinary.

Then he explained, "The Peak Master instructed that as inheriting disciples—especially inheriting disciples of Sulu Hall’s master—we must extend the highest courtesy. This formation is too simple. We’ll take the hardest one possible."

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang: "..."

Wait, we may be inheriting disciples, but we’re not exactly renowned for our combat prowess like swordsmen.

And why single out "inheriting disciples of Sulu Hall’s master"?

New novel chapters are published on freewёbn૦νeɭ.com.

That phrasing... that phrasing sounds downright ominous!

Silently exchanging a glance with Wu Manshuang, Yan Luoyue had a feeling—this was probably one of the many "legacy issues" Ji Qinghong had left behind in the sect.

Afterward, the two followed Yuan Feiyu, bypassing the second sword formation.

Then came the third, the fourth…

Finally, the trio stopped before the fifth sword formation.

Yuan Feiyu reluctantly explained, "This is a sword formation meant for Golden Core-stage sword cultivators to train in… Junior Brother and Junior Sister will have to make do for now."

"……"

At this moment, Yan Luoyue really wanted to voice her thoughts.

As everyone knew, sword cultivators' abilities often surpassed their cultivation realm by one level.

Some exceptionally formidable sword cultivators even exceeded it by two levels or more.

In other words, this Golden Core-stage sword formation was designed to challenge sword cultivators at the Nascent Soul stage from other sects.

Faced with such special treatment, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but raise a possibility.

"Little Yuan-shixiong, if someone can’t break through, does that mean they can’t go up the mountain?"

"It’s Big Yuan-shixiong—and no. Every session of the Sword Peak’s teachings and exchanges has two ways to conclude. Either you stay on the peak for three months, or you break through the formations all the way to the summit."

"If you can’t break through, then once the three-month period ends, the session concludes normally."

"Ohh." Yan Luoyue immediately extrapolated. "So, if Manshuang and I built a hut at the foot of the mountain and did nothing, after three months, it would still count as passing?"

Hearing this line of thinking, the overachiever Yuan Feiyu was utterly dumbfounded.

"No… this…" Yuan Feiyu exclaimed in shock, "Junior Sister, how can we cultivators be so unambitious? At least… at least try!"

Then, as if suddenly remembering Yan Luoyue’s race and the general reputation of turtle clans, Yuan Feiyu took a deep breath.

He switched tactics, persuading her from another angle. "At the end of each peak’s teachings, there’s a sparring session between the disciples who received the teachings. All the peak masters come to observe."

"Your and Wu-shidi’s opponent in the spar will be none other than me, Yuan Feiyu."

"If Junior Sister loses because you’re unfamiliar with the sword formations, wouldn’t that be a shame?"

Seeing how hard Yuan Feiyu was trying to convince her, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but chuckle. "Alright, Little Yuan-shixiong, I’ll give it a try."

"……"

Perhaps feeling that this small victory was hard-won, Yuan Feiyu didn’t correct her this time.

He reminded her, "When breaking through the sword formation, you can’t carry any defensive artifacts."

Coincidentally, Yan Luoyue also wanted to test her newly acquired "million-HP bar."

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍two were in perfect agreement. Yan Luoyue removed all her defensive artifacts, activated her Turtle Shell Technique, and strode boldly into the sword formation.

The sword formation stretched from the foot of the mountain all the way to the summit.

According to Yuan Feiyu, as long as one could endure the formation’s assault and reach the peak, the Sword Peak’s teachings would conclude.

Hmm…

If that was the case…

Yan Luoyue rubbed her chin, a bold idea forming in her mind: Why not… give it a shot?

With this thought, the moment she stepped into the formation, she felt razor-sharp gusts of sword energy slicing toward her.

Yuan Feiyu entered the formation alongside her.

Originally, Wu Manshuang had also wanted to join, but Yuan Feiyu had firmly refused.

As the Sword Peak’s assigned teaching disciple, Yuan Feiyu wasn’t just responsible for hosting the two juniors—he also had to ensure their safety.

Thus, only one of them could enter at a time. If danger arose, Yuan Feiyu’s abilities only allowed him to pull one person out.

Seeing Yan-shimei charging straight ahead the moment she entered, Yuan Feiyu couldn’t help but shake his head inwardly.

It wasn’t that her approach was wrong.

Most sword cultivators tackled formations with sheer force, breaking through with overwhelming power.

But Yan-shimei wasn’t a sword cultivator.

As a spell cultivator, her best strategy was to avoid direct confrontation—dodging and yielding where possible.

While evading, she could familiarize herself with the formation’s rhythm. For manageable sword energy, she could deflect it with minimal effort; for the more formidable strikes, she should prioritize evasion.

Silently sighing, Yuan Feiyu estimated: With this method, Yan-shimei probably wouldn’t make it past seven steps.

He began counting down in his mind: Seven steps, six… two, one!

Yuan Feiyu mentally urged, Fall, fall already! and prepared to grab Yan Luoyue by the back of her robe.

Yet the next second, to his shock, Yan-shimei remained standing firm—even taking four or five sword strikes head-on without so much as blinking!

Yuan Feiyu: "!!!"

How was this possible?!

Was there something wrong with the formation’s intensity?

Skeptical, Yuan Feiyu drew his sword and blocked a strike himself.

The familiar, overwhelming force traveled from the blade to his elbow, confirming this was indeed a Golden Core-level formation.

So, the formation wasn’t malfunctioning.

His gaze flicked to Yan Luoyue’s still-pristine robes.

Sword formations were notoriously destructive. Part of the reason sword cultivators were perpetually poor was because their robes kept getting shredded, forcing them to buy new ones.

In the Guiyuan Sect, a sword cultivator like Jiang Tingbai—who wore the same threadbare robe until it faded—was considered a hidden master.

Just by looking at Jiang Tingbai’s robes, everyone knew he was formidable.

"Yan-shimei," Yuan Feiyu hinted carefully, "when breaking through the formation, you can’t wear defensive artifacts—or special defensive robes."

"Wha—at—?"

Yan Luoyue shouted back.

The howling winds in the formation made it hard to hear, and her own voice barely carried.

After a few seconds, she finally processed his words.

"Oh—this isn’t—a defensive artifact—" Under the pressure, Yan Luoyue instinctively adopted the turtle clan’s traditional communication style. "This robe’s—material—is—wolas—"

Hearing this, Yuan Feiyu immediately understood.

Wolas—this material had no defensive properties. Its only traits were extreme stickiness and near-impossible tear resistance. If cut cleanly, it would even self-repair.

Given these qualities, wolas was typically used as a building material.

Yuan Feiyu couldn’t fathom why Yan-shimei would… turn construction material into a robe. What was she thinking?!

To put it in mortal terms: Who in their right mind would go outside wearing a stack of bricks?!

Since her robes wouldn’t tear, Yuan Feiyu couldn’t see any injuries beneath. This added another layer of concern.

He reminded her, "Yan-shimei, if you can’t hold on, you must tell me immediately."

That way, he could pull her out in time.

In Yuan Feiyu’s mind, having now experienced the formation’s ferocity, Yan-shimei should be on high alert—taking his warnings with the utmost seriousness.

However, to his surprise, after hearing his well-intentioned advice, Junior Sister Yan merely nodded absentmindedly.

"Alright—thank you—Senior Brother Yuan—"

Yan Luoyue remarked, "This sword formation—is indeed—quite impressive!"

It really was quite impressive.

Back when an entire assassination squad had ambushed Yan Luoyue—including three Golden Core cultivators, with their leader even at the mid-stage of Golden Core—they had launched three full-force lethal assaults on her. Yet, not a single sliver of her health bar had been depleted.

But now, after taking just seven steps forward, Yan Luoyue's million-point health bar had actually undergone a tiny change!

At the very end of her health gauge, an almost imperceptible sliver had turned transparent white.

In an instant, Yan Luoyue’s respect for this sword formation soared, and she regarded it with newfound admiration.

Seeing Junior Sister Yan take another step forward, Yuan Feiyu couldn’t help but silently reassess the situation.

—Well, Junior Sister Yan’s origins lay with the turtle clan, so her extraordinary defense was only natural.

But as a mere mid-stage Foundation Establishment turtle, making it this far—seven steps—was already remarkable, even exceptional.

However, the path up the mountain grew more perilous with every inch. Relying solely on her racial talents as a turtle likely wouldn’t be enough to carry her through.

Thus, Yuan Feiyu quietly estimated: At most… she could take five more steps.

Five, four, three, two, one… one… Huh?!

Again, nothing happened?!

Yuan Feiyu’s eyes widened in shock.

Disbelieving, he counted down from five to one, then back up from one to five—only to see Junior Sister Yan not only unharmed but also in high spirits, even uttering words that left him utterly baffled.

Yan Luoyue said, "Wow, impressive! It actually shaved off 0.1% of my health!"

Yuan Feiyu: "???"

Though he didn’t fully grasp her meaning, he had a strong feeling… this probably shouldn’t be considered "impressive."

Gulping, the once slightly tsundere young swordsman could only feel shock—shock that would last him a whole year, shock that would reverberate through his entire sword peak.

Yuan Feiyu continued accompanying Yan Luoyue upward—five steps, ten steps, fifty steps, five hundred steps…

By the time they reached the 1,038th step—one-third of the way—Yan Luoyue finally showed the faintest trace of fatigue.

She murmured, "It’s already down by 10%..."

That faint trace of exhaustion, in Yuan Feiyu’s eyes, was nothing short of a triumphant ray of hope!

This wasn’t just fatigue—it was the dignity of their sword peak, preserved at last!

Overcome with excitement, Yuan Feiyu let his focus slip for just a moment. A vicious sword aura slashed toward him.

Though he reacted swiftly, meeting it head-on and forcefully deflecting the attack, it still left a shallow cut on his cheek.

Ahead of him, Junior Sister Yan, as if she had eyes on the back of her head, instantly turned around, her gaze filled with concern.

Yuan Feiyu: "..."

In that moment, as if foreseeing the inevitable, Yuan Feiyu’s heart screamed, "No!"

But the course of events cared little for human wishes.

"Senior Brother Yuan, are you alright?"

The next second, Yan Luoyue’s sincere concern reached his ears.

"You seem tired. Should I carry you the rest of the way?"

Yuan Feiyu: "..."

If not for the last shred of his pride holding him together, Yuan Feiyu would have buried his face in his hands right then.

—Forgive me, my fellow disciples. I, Yuan Feiyu, have failed all sword cultivators!

He… he… he…

In front of Junior Sister Yan, he was utterly unworthy of calling himself a swordsman!