Naked Sword Art

Chapter 484: Northern Continent of Yuhuang

Far from the Royal Court and the 13 provinces in the Heavenly Fate continent, across a vast ocean and mountain chains, lay a land many called the Heart of Civilization, formally known as Yuhuang.

The Northern Continent of Yuhuang stretched farther than the horizon could measure—mountain ranges taller than clouds, lakes filled with spirit beasts, and countless kingdoms, sects, and clans each guarding their own territories, histories, and pride. The Heavenly Fate continent was nothing more than a small island in comparison.

At the center of this vast land lay the Ancestral Land of Fire, the oldest, largest, and most politically powerful nation on the continent. Its skies burned brighter than any other place under the sun, and its soil pulsed with ancient fire-attributed spiritual energy.

Here stood the Heavenly Flames Sect—not merely a sect, but a ruling power. Their disciples were tempered in divine fire, their elders capable of turning mountains to molten stone with a single breath. And some believed their emperor was mere years away from transcending into the realm of Immortals, a feat that hadn’t been seen in several millennia.

So, when the Heavenly Flames Sect called for a gathering, no power—large or small—dared ignore it.

...

Inside the grand central palace, the atmosphere was rigid with expectation. The hall was vast, crowned with chandeliers of phoenix-feather fire and banners embroidered with lotus flames. Rows of tables decorated in nourishing flames, filled with representatives of surrounding nations—military envoys, sect masters, scholars, and clan elders.

They had not gathered for ceremony. They were here because of a problem no longer possible to ignore.

From the Southern Wastes, demonic beasts and corrupted cultivators had begun moving north—territory after territory reporting attacks, disappearances, and unnatural migrations.

An alliance was no longer optional—it was necessary.

...

Among the many ornate robes and grand crests entered three figures dressed plainly in soft white cloth marked with faint golden script. Representatives of the Heavenly Fate Sect.

Their home was small—a secluded island nation far to the west—and compared to the empires and sects surrounding them, they seemed modest... insignificant even. Which is why some representatives felt bold enough to speak without restraint.

A man from the Iron Rhino Dominion leaned forward, voice loud enough for several nearby tables to hear:

"So tell us, Heavenly Fate," he began, tone coated with amusement, "how does an island sect with barely a kingdom’s worth of land plan to contribute against demon hordes?"

His companions smirked.

"Perhaps they’ll read destiny and ask the demons politely to turn around."

Another chuckled. "If fate is on your side, maybe the demons will trip and drown on the way north."

A few nearby leaders hid their smiles.

The three Heavenly Fate disciples sat still—expressions controlled—but irritation flickered behind their composure.

The eldest among them finally responded.

"We were invited here, just as you were," he said calmly. "We came to assist with strategy, not entertain disrespect."

The Iron Rhino representative leaned back, unimpressed.

"And what strategy could you offer?"

Another speaker—this one from the Storm Wall Kingdom—joined in.

"Your sect is small. Your land is small. Your army is small. Why are you even here?"

The youngest Heavenly Fate disciple’s fist tightened.

Before the eldest could respond, another voice cut in:

"You people live on an island separated from the rest of the continent. When the demons arrive, they’ll reach our kingdoms first. We bleed before you do."

The implication was clear:

You benefit from our deaths, and yet you dare speak as equals.

A brief silence followed—heavy enough to snap.

The Heavenly Fate elder finally responded, voice even:

"You assume fate spares those who speak loudly."

That didn’t help.

The Iron Rhino envoy stood abruptly.

"Are you threatening us?"

"No," the Fate disciple replied, still seated. "Merely observing."

The table legs creaked under the weight of rising hostility.

"We are disciples of Fate," one of the Heavenly Fate youths declared, voice firm despite the pressure aimed at them. "Where we stand and where we go is determined by the heavens—not by you."

A sneer answered him.

"And what if I decide your fate is to die here?" another representative taunted. "Will you still spout that nonsense while your corpses cool on the floor?"

Several cultivators tensed—hands drifting toward rings, sheaths, and seals. The air thickened with killing intent. Even the Heavenly Flame disciples guarding the perimeter shifted uneasily.

"Hey—what’s going on over there?" a young Heavenly Flame woman whispered, eyes fixed on the growing argument.

"It looks like they’re about to fight," another murmured.

"Fight? In the Heavenly Flame Palace? Are they insane?" she hissed in disbelief.

"Isn’t that the Heavenly Fate sect?" someone beside her asked.

"Heavenly Fate?" she repeated, frowning. "I’ve never heard of them."

"They’re not from this continent," another explained quietly. "Small sect. Remote island. Most people didn’t even know they existed until a few years ago."

The Elder standing with them finally spoke—calm, measured, observant.

"They are small," he admitted, "but they’ve begun drawing attention. Rapidly."

"Elder," the young woman asked, lowering her voice, "what techniques do they use? Weapons? Bloodline? Spirit Attribute?"

"I don’t know," the Elder replied, gaze fixed on the confrontation. "But rumors say... they wield the power of fate."

"The power of fate?" she repeated skeptically. "What does that even mean?"

The Elder did not answer, because he didn’t know.

She crossed her arms. "Well, whatever it is, they’re not acting smart. In a hall full of the strongest cultivators from the northern continent, picking a fight here is suicide."

Her companion nodded. "Their representatives are only Origin Realm, while the ones provoking them are established Scholar Realm cultivators."

Heavenly Cultivation Realms:

Origin → Scholar → Lord → Sky → Star → King → Dragon → Emperor → Immortal

"With only Origin and Scholar realm strength... why make noise?" the young woman scoffed. "Maybe I should knock some sense into them." Flames flickered across her knuckles as she cracked them.

The Elder shot her a sharp look.

"Don’t be reckless. Those representatives might be weak, but every sect invited here today were 3rd-Grade sects. Powerful Elders from their sects are here, just choosing to remain hidden."

His glowing eyes swept the crowd—subtle, precise—silently acknowledging the hidden titans among them.