The courtyard trembled with disbelief. The words of the Han Patriarch still lingered in the air like ripples across a pond, and yet, no one moved. Every member of the Sword Shandian Sect stared at Han Cui in absolute silence. Their expressions were a mix of shock and confusion, their usually calm eyes now wide with unmasked astonishment.

"What did he say?" one of the younger disciples whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Another one?"

"Impossible," muttered one of the elders, eyes narrowing. "There is another? Another son?"

The leading elder of the sect, the white-haired one with the silver clasp, turned his gaze toward Han Cui. "Patriarch Han," he said slowly, his voice carrying the faint tremor of disbelief, "you mean to tell us… there is another child of yours with potential worth testing?"

Han Cui lowered his head slightly, his hands clasped behind his back in calm composure, though the faint curve on his lips betrayed the pride swelling within. "Yes," he said. "My youngest son, Han Zhanjian."

The name fell like thunder.

The elders turned toward each other in disbelief. Some of the younger disciples exchanged startled looks. Even Han Zukong, still standing proudly from his own test, turned his head, eyebrows rising slightly as if he too had expected this to happen.

Han Zhanjian felt the weight of a hundred gazes crash upon him. His throat tightened. He wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

The silver-haired elder blinked a few times, then chuckled softly. "Two children of high potential in a mortal household? That would be quite the tale for the sect halls."

"More than a tale," another elder murmured under his breath, his tone carrying a mixture of awe and doubt. "If it is true, then this mortal clan has produced something the heavens themselves will take notice of."

The disciples around them started whispering in hushed tones, their voices rising and falling like waves.

"Two of them? No way!"

"Even in the sect, high-class talents are rare. One in a mortal house is a miracle… two is unheard of!"

"Could it be the heavens are truly favoring the Han Family?"

Han Cui gave a modest smile but said nothing. He turned his head toward Han Zhanjian, and the weight in his gaze was enough to tell him everything.

Go.

Han Zhanjian's hands trembled slightly, but he straightened his back and nodded. His heart thudded against his ribs, a heavy, unsteady rhythm that refused to calm down. He took a single step forward, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to echo louder than it should have.

Every movement he made felt heavy. Every breath was drawn with care.

The silver-haired elder gestured toward the ceremonial sword still embedded in the ground, the same one used to test his brother moments ago. "Touch the blade," he said softly. "Let us see what the heavens have given you."

Han Zhanjian's fingers twitched at his side. He glanced once toward his elder brother, who stood a few steps away. Han Zukong met his gaze briefly—there was something unreadable there, pride mixed with something sharper, perhaps disbelief.

Han Zhanjian stepped closer to the sword. The blade was massive, gleaming with faint golden lines that pulsed with spiritual energy. As he neared, he could feel the faint hum vibrating through the air.

His fingertips hovered over the hilt. His chest tightened.

Everyone in the courtyard held their breath.

And then—he touched it.

Wummm!

A blinding surge of light exploded from the sword, a shockwave of pure energy rippling through the courtyard like a tidal wave. The banners whipped violently. Dust shot up into the air. The servants stumbled backward, crying out in shock.

"Another one!" a voice shouted.

The light burned brighter, gold mixing with streaks of silver until it resembled molten sunlight flowing upward into the sky. The formation on the ground reignited, lines of ancient runes spinning like living serpents.

Han Zhanjian's robes flared behind him as if caught in a divine wind. His hair lifted, glowing faintly under the radiant blaze.

The Sword Shandian elders' eyes widened in disbelief.

"This light… it's the same as before," one whispered.

"No," said another, his voice trembling. "It's stronger."

The disciples began shouting in confusion and excitement.

"It can't be!"

"Two high-class talents in the same family?"

"This is… this is absurd!"

The silver-haired elder took a step forward, eyes gleaming with reflected gold. His voice came out almost reverent. "The heavens have truly gone mad. To bless a single family twice in one generation… this is a sign. A sign of destiny."

Some of the other elders clasped their hands together and began muttering silent prayers.

"Praise the heavens!"

"The mortal realm births prodigies once in a thousand years… and today, it has given us two brothers!"

"Two high-class talents of the Sword Path… brothers born under the same roof!"

The crowd went wild. The Han Family members gasped, shouted, and some even knelt. The servants wept openly. The air was filled with awe, joy, disbelief, and reverence all at once.

Han Cui's hands were trembling, his proud expression breaking into laughter he could no longer contain. "The heavens… the heavens have not forsaken us! My sons—my sons carry the light of the sword itself!"

The Sword Shandian elders turned toward him, their previous restraint shattered by excitement. The silver-haired elder stepped closer and spread his arms wide. His voice rang like thunder across the courtyard.

"From this day forth," he declared, "the Sword Shandian Sect and the Han Family shall be as one! This is not merely a bond of gratitude—it is a decree written by fate itself!"

Gasps erupted.

"Did he just—"

"He said as one!"

"The Sword Shandian Sect and the Han Family are tied by heaven's will!"

The silver-haired elder's voice deepened, carrying immense gravity. "The heavens themselves have witnessed this union. The Han Family shall have the protection of the Sword Shandian Sect. Should danger fall upon you, we will answer. Should your banner fall, we shall raise it. From now on, our destinies are bound."

The elders behind him nodded solemnly, their robes fluttering as if echoing the decree.

"Anything the Han Family asks," said another elder, "the Sword Shandian Sect shall consider it already done. You are kin beneath heaven."

Han Cui fell to his knees and pressed his forehead against the ground. "This lowly mortal thanks the heavens for such favor and thanks the honored Sword Shandian Sect for such grace!" His voice cracked, heavy with emotion.

Around him, the other Han elders and disciples followed, bowing deeply.

Tears filled the eyes of some of the servants, who could not believe what they were witnessing. The Han Family—once a small noble house in a minor mortal city—had just been tied to one of the mightiest sects of the upper world.

Even the royal family would think twice before crossing them now.

The courtyard buzzed with cheers and prayers. Han Zukong smiled faintly, his pride glowing in his eyes. Han Zhanjian stood still in the middle of it all, his hand still resting on the sword hilt, his chest rising and falling heavily. His mind was a storm.

He should be happy. But deep inside, fear was clawing at his heart.

The power that flared through the sword was not entirely his. He knew it. He could still remember the faint touch of his eldest brother's spiritual energy that night—the strange warmth that seeped into his body before he lost consciousness.

Wei Ji… no, Han Ji.

What did you do to me?

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise when one of the old Sword Shandian elders suddenly turned to the others, his wrinkled lips curling into a thoughtful frown. "If both brothers possess such powerful spirit roots," the old man said slowly, "should we not test for… the special eyes?"

The courtyard froze again.

Everyone's excitement dimmed slightly, replaced by nervous curiosity.

Han Cui blinked, uncertain. "Special eyes?" he asked politely.

The silver-haired elder nodded. "Indeed. Some born with divine talents possess eyes that can see the path of the sword itself. We call them Sword Eyes."

Han Zhanjian's breath caught in his throat. His stomach tightened painfully. His entire body tensed.

His mind screamed.

No… don't.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He could still feel the faint presence of his eldest brother's concealment spell lingering around him. But against the eyes of immortals—would it hold?

Would it really conceal him from beings like them?

What if if works? Does that mean... His brother's spells are greater than immortals?

Han Zhanjian shook his head, that's impossible.

The Sword Shandian elders turned toward him, the light in their eyes sharp and penetrating, filled with curiosity and divine authority.

Han Zhanjian's palms grew slick with sweat. His throat dried. He could not breathe properly.

If they discovered the truth—if they saw what lay behind his eyes—then everything his eldest brother had done would unravel.

And in that silent, unbearable moment, he could only pray that Wei Ji's spell would be enough.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.