Chapter Seven: Sorry, I Lost Control a Little!

Lin An could clearly feel the raging power surging through Qian Qixian’s arm.

At this moment, that force was still intensifying, and faintly, the head of a colossal elephant, as if forged from refined iron, began to coalesce behind him.

Many disciples watching saw Qian Qixian not only consume a pill to stimulate his potential, but also unleash a profound-tier combat technique. Cries of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

There was no doubt that profound-tier techniques were tremendously powerful. Although Qian Qixian’s current cultivation was insufficient to draw out their full might, against someone like Lin An—who was not even a one-star Fighter—the power was overwhelming.

Most onlookers could only shake their heads helplessly at the sight. If such a strike landed on Lin An, even if he survived, he would likely be crippled for life.

“Master…” Nalan Yanran, witnessing this, wanted to plead with her teacher to intervene.

After all, even she could see that victory was already firmly in Qian Qixian’s grasp.

Besides, Lin An’s talent was not insignificant. In the Cloud Mist Sect, he could be considered a gifted disciple. To see him ruined at Qian Qixian’s hands would truly be a pity.

Yet, to her disappointment, her master, Yun Yun, remained silent, showing no intention of stepping in.

Nalan Yanran could only grow anxious inside.

The terrifying rush of wind bore down on Lin An, stinging his skin. By now, Lin An understood that he could no longer afford to hold back.

He summoned the yin energy from the Hall of Yama. With a single breath, a chill seeped through his whole body.

Even Qian Qixian couldn’t help but shiver, as if he’d fallen into an ice-cold abyss.

The sensation vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Qian Qixian dazed and uncertain.

“Profound-tier technique: Profound Demon Blood Finger!”

Lin An’s voice was low, and unending streams of yin energy gathered rapidly at his fingertip, condensing into a jet-black finger, as dark as ink. That finger seemed to have crossed the void itself, emanating such dangerous energy that even Yun Yun, watching from the sidelines, furrowed her brow.

For reasons she could not grasp, even Yun Yun sensed an aura of danger from Lin An’s technique.

But she quickly dismissed the thought.

He hadn’t even reached one-star Fighter—how could he possibly threaten her, the newly ascended Sect Master at the Dou Emperor level?

A sharp sound split the air.

Qian Qixian could almost see Lin An coughing blood and collapsing to the ground.

But in the next instant, the mockery in Qian Qixian’s eyes vanished, replaced by terror.

The profound-tier technique he’d unleashed was utterly powerless before Lin An’s attack.

Lin An’s strike pierced effortlessly through the shadow conjured by his technique, swept past his defending hand, and shot directly for his chest.

Qian Qixian had no doubt that if that finger landed, his life would end on the spot.

“Impudent wretch, dare you!”

The Seventh Elder sprang up from his seat.

To break his grandson’s profound-tier technique so easily—this finger could have killed Qian Qixian.

Lin An merely smiled. Just as his finger was about to strike Qian Qixian’s chest, he shifted seamlessly from finger to palm, slapping Qian Qixian’s chest instead.

A dull thud rang out.

Without suspense, Qian Qixian was flung into the air like a severed kite by the tremendous force, crashing hard outside the dueling arena, vomiting blood before collapsing unconscious.

Lin An stood in the center of the arena, glancing apologetically at the silent disciples around him, and then turned to the Seventh Elder.

“My apologies, Seventh Elder. I lost control of my strength for a moment and struck a bit too hard.”

Anyone could hear from Lin An’s tone that there was not the slightest trace of remorse; it was as if he were mocking them.

If even outsiders could sense it, how could the Seventh Elder not? Lin An had clearly done it on purpose.

Yet even so, he could find no grounds to trouble Lin An. Not now, at least.

He cast a cold look at Lin An, then quickly left with Qian Qixian in his arms.

Watching Qian Qixian’s retreating figure, Lin An felt a wave of weakness but managed to remain standing.

He had considered killing Qian Qixian outright in front of everyone.

However, the first rule of this duel was not to harm fellow disciples. That was why, even though Qian Qixian hated Lin An to the core, he had not tried to kill him outright.

Afterward, Yun Yun announced on the spot that she would take Lin An as her second disciple, granting him the same privileges as Nalan Yanran.

As soon as the words were spoken, countless eyes filled with envy, jealousy, and bitterness turned toward Lin An.

“Congratulations, Lin An. I never thought that in just half a month, the gap between us would become so great,” Zhao Lin said with a sigh.

Yet he knew that even if he’d participated in the duel, it would have changed nothing for him. After all, he didn’t possess Lin An’s monstrous strength.

“With your talent, you’ll surely do well in the Cloud Mist Sect,” Lin An replied with a smile.

After performing the ceremony to acknowledge his master, Lin An saw Yun Yun leave at once, as if accepting him as a disciple was merely a formality, not her true wish.

Nalan Yanran, on the other hand, was visibly thrilled.

She could hardly believe that Lin An’s strength was so extraordinary—even Qian Qixian, whom she herself might not have bested, had fallen to him.

“From today onward, you are my junior brother! You must listen to your senior sister from now on!” she declared, striking a proud pose.

“Greetings, Senior Sister!” Lin An responded dutifully.

“Good, you’re quite promising. Come, I’ll take you to see Master—she’s prepared a welcome gift for you!”

With that, she strode ahead.

Lin An was puzzled. Weren’t gifts for new disciples usually presented in front of all the elders and disciples? Why was this to be done in private?

Following Nalan Yanran, it wasn’t long before they arrived at the side hall where Yun Yun resided.

“Greetings, Master,” Lin An said.

“Do you know why I have taken a new disciple?” Yun Yun asked.

“I do not, Master,” Lin An replied honestly.

He was at a loss; no matter how he wracked his brain, he couldn’t figure out Yun Yun’s purpose in accepting a new disciple at this time.

What was even more perplexing was that, as far as he could recall from the story of Battle Through the Heavens, Yun Yun never had a second disciple besides Nalan Yanran.

This event took place before Nalan Yanran’s engagement was annulled. When Xiao Yan came to the Cloud Mist Sect to challenge her, there had never been mention of another disciple.

Yet his own experience was indisputable. Which meant that, had he not appeared here, Qian Qixian might have become Yun Yun’s second disciple.

As for why there was no later mention, Lin An could only speculate.

Perhaps Yun Yun’s second disciple had already died—maybe not even honorably—so the matter was never brought up again.

Or perhaps it was simply irrelevant to the main plot, and so the character never appeared.

Regardless, Lin An knew he would need to tread carefully from now on.