Chapter 16: Chapter 16 — Who Is Divine Strength?

Chapter 16 — Who Is Divine Strength?

“So your name is Fang Han? Very well—you have a slot. Go in for the examination. Turn left once inside; the Assessment Hall is there. Everyone has gathered already.”

Fang Han had been waiting at the entrance, naturally unaware of the discussions taking place among the examiners inside the Stepping into Immortality Institute.

He waited patiently.

After about half an hour, a young Daoist emerged and spoke, opening the gates to let him in. Fang Han finally relaxed a little. The moment he stepped across the threshold of Stepping into Immortality Institute, a subtle feeling rose in his heart—

His status had changed.

Indeed, even an outer disciple of Yuhua Sect, if returning to the Great Li Dynasty, would immediately become a regional power.

Following the directions, Fang Han turned left and walked through a winding corridor stretching seven or eight li, passing rock gardens and lakes. Suddenly, a vast hall opened before him.

The princes and aristocratic youths who had entered earlier were all gathered here.

The hall spanned three thousand paces in both length and width, easily capable of holding ten thousand people. Standing within it, one felt insignificantly small. At the deepest end of the hall stood a pitch-black gate. From within, a pair of blood-red eyes stared out at everyone, radiating ferocity, brutality, and a chilling aura of slaughter.

The entire hall felt like a place where a demon had been sealed.

“What’s inside that gate?”
Fang Han’s heart tightened. Whatever lay beyond was certainly no benevolent existence. Could it be the Divine Strength Puppet?

The other aristocratic candidates were also staring at the crimson eyes deep within the darkness.

Thud, thud, thud.

Several chief examiners walked in, instantly suppressing the atmosphere of the hall.

“Impressive… These are all experts on the same level as Master Bai Hai Chan,”
Fang Han thought. “Peak Body Tempering Realm—perhaps armed with powerful blood-refined artifacts, maybe even spirit weapons.”

The expressions of the noble candidates grew solemn as well.

Experts of the Ninth Layer—Spirit Communion, or Tenth Layer—Divine Metamorphosis, were figures who could serve as grand marshals, national preceptors, or frontier governors in any empire.

One examiner spoke coldly:

“You already know the contents of today’s assessment. You must defeat a Divine Strength Puppet. Do so, and you will pass—becoming outer disciples of Yuhua Sect. But most of you only know its name, not what it truly is. I will explain, so that you don’t die without understanding why.”

“The Divine Strength Puppet was refined from a Subterranean Demonkin—a bloodthirsty, brutal creature of immense power. We erased its consciousness and forged it into a puppet of endless strength and savage instincts. It is a pure engine of slaughter.”

“What?!”

“It’s made from a demonkin?”

“No wonder those princes who failed last year were terrified…”

The hall erupted in murmurs.

Fang Han did not know exactly what a Subterranean Demonkin was, but instinct screamed danger. This puppet was far more terrifying than any tiger or savage beast.

“You think the Immortal Path is riding cranes through peaceful clouds?”
another examiner said icily.

“No. Immortal cultivation is a road of no return. Only those with unshakable resolve can temper the body, awaken the mind, and step into the Divine Ability Realm.”

“Immortal cultivation is not serenity—it is fearlessness of heart. One must slay outer demons, inner demons, all demons. The Immortal Path is one of thorns and blades—of wielding the sword of Dao nakedly to cut through illusion and seek the true self.”

“Now, with your current strength—slay an outer demon and take your first step.”

“Liu Kang. Son of Marquis Zhenyuan of Great Li. Step forward.”

“Good!”

The youth holding the purple jade folding fan—who had earlier complained about not being able to bring servants—stepped confidently into the center, facing the black gate and those crimson eyes.

Fang Han felt his blood stir.

“Immortal cultivation isn’t carefree—it’s a fight for life against heaven itself… That’s the truth.”

He now understood.

Marquis Zhenyuan commanded eight hundred thousand troops, a figure even more powerful than the Fang family. Such a man’s son now stood beside him in the same examination.

Life truly was dreamlike.

“Open the gate!”

The examiners exchanged glances and raised their hands simultaneously. Beams of light shot into the dark gate.

Crash!

The sealing mist dispersed.

A demonic shadow—one and a half times the height of a man—leapt out and slammed onto the ground, its ferocity shocking the entire hall.

It was humanoid.

Pitch-black scales covered its body. Two fleshy horns jutted from its head. Its mouth was filled with fangs, hands ending in hooked claws. Crimson eyes burned with madness. Beneath its scales, muscles bulged like iron plates, joints cracking explosively with every movement.

Its legs were long—made for terrifying leaps.

ROOOAAARRR!

The Divine Strength Puppet lunged like a hunting豹, claws slashing toward Liu Kang’s head.

Rip!

Liu Kang was momentarily stunned by its killing intent. His shoulder was torn open, five deep claw marks ripping through flesh. A fraction slower—and his skull would have been crushed.

Gasps filled the hall.

The puppet chased him relentlessly, striking with lethal intent—disemboweling, tearing, crushing.

The central arena was marked by white lines, forming a sealed field. The puppet could not leave—and neither could the examinee without forfeiting.

“Blood-Battle Three Forms!”

Seizing a brief opening, Liu Kang snapped his purple jade fan open. A soft sword flicked out, gleaming violet. His aura transformed—steeped in battlefield slaughter.

The sword flashed.

Slash!

One of the puppet’s hands was severed.

“Sword Qi Like the Long River!”

Liu Kang unleashed everything he had, sword surging like a roaring river toward the puppet’s head.

Thrust!

The blade pierced the puppet’s brow—but in the same instant, the puppet’s fist slammed into Liu Kang, sending him flying out of the arena.

The puppet collapsed.

“Victory within the arena—pass!”
an examiner declared, waving a healing talisman that released fragrant medicinal energy.

Liu Kang rose shakily, drenched in sweat, bloodied but alive.

Many candidates instinctively stepped back.

“Liu Kang is stronger than me—but weaker than Fang Tong,”
Fang Han judged. “Probably Seventh Layer—Inner Fortification. That sword was impressive… But I have no weapon.”

The corpse of the puppet was dragged into the black gate. Crunching, chewing sounds echoed from within.

Another pair of red eyes appeared.

Another noble stepped forward.

This one was seized instantly—nearly torn apart before an examiner intervened, slicing the puppet’s head off with a beam of sword light.

“Unqualified.”

One by one, candidates failed. Some were injured. Some retreated outright.

“I quit!”

“This is too dangerous!”

One examiner sighed.

“If you can’t slay a single outer demon, how will you slay heart demons and heavenly demons?”

“I’ll go.”

The fifteen-year-old girl—the Princess Hongyi—stepped forward calmly.

“Release the demon.”

Her sword danced like ink across silk. Elegant, precise.

After dozens of exchanges—_thrust! _—the blade pierced the puppet’s throat.

It fell.

The cleanest victory yet.

“Impressive,”
Fang Han murmured.

Then—

“Fang Han. You’re next.”

He stepped into the arena.

“You’re unarmed?”
the examiner frowned.

“I don’t have a weapon.”

The examiner nodded. “Courage. Release the demon!”

BOOM!

The puppet charged.

Fang Han roared and punched it head-on.

BANG!

The impact exploded the air. Fang Han staggered, blood surging—then—

The Nine-Aperture Golden Core pulsed.

Pain vanished.

Again.

And again.

He traded blows.

Punch for punch. Kick for kick.

A human and a demon smashing each other like war machines.

The hall fell silent.

“This isn’t possible…”

Finally—

Fang Han seized the puppet, lifted it overhead, and smashed it into the ground.

Dead.

Exhausted to destruction.

“Pass!”
the examiners declared, stunned.

“Brother—impressive!”
Liu Kang said, giving a thumbs-up.

Princess Hongyi stared at Fang Han as if he were a monster.