Chapter Twenty-Four: The Divine Child?

"The foundation has been established. Even without relying on Senior Sister Yunxi, I now hold some authority."

The golden crow soared across the sky. Lin Fan had already left the Ghost Bamboo Forest, having parted ways with Gu Renfeng and the others half an hour earlier. The founding of the Divine Court meant everything to Lin Fan; descendants of the three great clans gathered under one roof. Their combined strength would create a powerful surge among the inner disciples of the Heavenly Capital Sect—by no means insignificant.

"Devour the sun, consume the moon!"

A fierce howl shattered the air, as if the atmosphere itself might explode. Terrifying power descended from above, a black gale roaring. A Yaksha appeared behind Lin Fan, striking with ruthless force, leaving no room for mercy.

"Get lost!" Lin Fan's brows twitched. He spun and punched.

A massive Kunpeng soared skyward, a hundred thousand pounds of force erupting to tear the air apart. Lin Fan exalted himself to the utmost, standing at the peak.

"A mere human possesses such fearsome power—yet your realm is only at the seventh level of physical mastery. Extraordinary potential. Those useless fools died without injustice, but unfortunately, you have met me."

The Yaksha snorted coldly, his expression unchanged, unbothered by Lin Fan’s retaliation. With a shudder of his body, an even greater force surged forth, shaking the void. The shadow of a gigantic mammoth loomed.

"The strength of a mammoth!"

Lin Fan’s heart trembled. He made his decision—he dared not linger in battle, and immediately turned to flee.

The strength of a mammoth meant one hundred twenty-eight thousand pounds of force, far surpassing Lin Fan; the gap was immense and could not be bridged.

"Too late. Dare to slaughter my demon clan, and you must bear the consequences."

The mammoth roared. The Yaksha's fist fell like a meteor, sweeping the world with astonishing speed—within a blink, the Kunpeng was torn apart.

Their fists collided. Lin Fan was hurled through the air, blood spurting from the corner of his mouth.

"Humph, still trying to escape?"

The Yaksha strode like a dragon, a tiger among men, a demon king descending upon dust. Among the younger generation of the Gu Chicheng demon clan, he was a leader—his strength unfathomable. Among the physical cultivation disciples of the Heavenly Capital Sect, only the top ten inner disciples could rival him.

"Ninth level of physical mastery! The strength of a mammoth!"

Lin Fan narrowed his eyes. By borrowing the Yaksha’s explosive power, he had widened the gap between them, using the opportunity to slip away.

From their brief clash, he had already sensed the terror behind him—far beyond his expectations, both in realm and strength.

"This one surely hides great secrets—I cannot let him escape."

The Yaksha’s gaze flickered, his resolve steeled. Suddenly, a cracking sound echoed from his body, and with a thunderous motion, two wings unfurled.

He soared through the air.

"This… Flying Yaksha?! The royal bloodline of the Yaksha clan!"

Lin Fan’s face turned pale, his whole body trembling. He had barely left the Ghost Bamboo Forest, only to encounter such a formidable adversary—one beyond ordinary imagination.

The demon clan’s starting point was higher than the human clan’s, and their royals were even more terrifying: boundless strength, astonishing physique, and special abilities. Like the Yaksha before him—whose gift was flight.

"Up ahead is Tiger Leap Cliff, and below is the hundred-mile river. My life ends here!"

Lin Fan’s eye twitched. He knew the terrain well, aware that what lay ahead was a dead end.

"You cannot escape. For a human to possess such power and potential—if I devour your body, I may step into the Vein Condensation Realm and dominate the world!"

The Yaksha's voice engulfed the sky, his full strength unleashed. Divine runes fell, blocking Lin Fan’s path. A massive hand reached out for Lin Fan’s back.

An indescribable killing intent flooded his heart. Lin Fan’s flesh crawled, pain searing his body as faint lines of blood appeared.

"No! Seven Stars in Sequence!"

Lin Fan’s face contorted, his palm struck out, and seven stars hovered above the heavens, spanning the earth.

A Kunpeng soared skyward, spreading its wings, striking across the vast starry sky.

This was a killing move—Lin Fan had exhausted his strength, unleashing every lethal technique he possessed.

"I must withstand this!"

Lin Fan's body trembled, his newly understood laws unleashed, divine runes flooding the space, unmatched in their brilliance.

"The Northern Dipper Seven Stars? Isn’t this the technique of the Star Sect? But after countless years, the human clan’s Star Sect should have been lost to the river of time."

The Yaksha’s eyes flickered, recognizing the origins of the Seven Stars Fist. Lin Fan, unaware, let his hair fly wildly, his body nearly splitting, blood streaking out.

A black hand descended, radiant with divine light; the Yaksha was too terrifying, standing at the very limit of physical mastery.

Boom!

The Kunpeng roared and disintegrated into countless points of light.

"Too weak."

The Yaksha snorted, his foot descending, shattering the brilliant stars.

Divine light surged. The explosion of the seven stars was enough to shake the surrounding mile.

Lin Fan’s whole body trembled, suffering grievous wounds.

"Die!"

The Yaksha reached out again, his massive hand grasping for Lin Fan’s head.

"No!"

Lin Fan’s eyes shook. He had just founded the Divine Court—how could he resign himself to death?

At that moment, a dazzling divine light fell from the heavens. It carried the power of destruction, imbued with unimaginable force of death—only those at the peak of Vein Condensation could wield such terror.

"Who’s there?!"

The Yaksha finally sensed something amiss, barely opening his mouth before it was cut short.

The divine light cleaved down. The Yaksha had no chance to resist; his body was sliced apart, black demon blood flooding the ground.

"What?"

Lin Fan gazed up at the sky. A white figure appeared before his eyes.

"Senior Sister Yunxi!"

A wave of joy surged in him. He was about to shout when his voice caught.

Behind Yunxi stood a group of people, both men and women, all about the same age. Their attire was similar, and their identities were clear—they were the many true disciples of the Heavenly Capital Sect.

Yet Lin Fan's gaze focused on the man at the center of their circle.

He was imposing, his stature seemingly ordinary, yet to Lin Fan, he was like a towering mountain, surrounded by stars, radiating incomparable power.

His features were not handsome, but like a blazing star, impossible to look upon directly.

He had not spoken a word, yet merely standing there overshadowed all others—even the true disciples. No matter how radiant the light of the stars, it could not rival the sun.

Such was this man: invincible, godlike, gazing down upon all things—a monument impossible for anyone to glimpse in its glory.

"Could it be…?"

At that moment, two words surfaced uncontrollably in Lin Fan’s mind. A name heard only in legend, rarely seen in person.

The Divine Son of the Heavenly Capital Sect—Duanmu Ci.