Venerable Han!
Just three simple words, yet they crashed down like thunder from the heavens, shattering all expectations and breaking apart every wavering doubt.
A Venerable Saint! Has Andrew Han truly become a Venerable Saint?
A tidal wave of shock, awe, disbelief, and countless other emotions surged through everyone present, sweeping across the Seafoam Front and freezing the winter night in place.
The cold wind howled.
Waves rose and fell.
Everyone present was moved to silence.
...
“Venerable Han?”
“Lord Andrew Han has already entered the Venerable Saint echelon.” Three or four Alliance Elders exchanged looks, wanting to speak but falling silent, their hearts filled with complex emotions.
The waves of the Yangtze push the old forward, and the old are left behind on the shore.
Such was the elders’ rueful sentiment. Just half a year ago, they could still sit in the Alliance Elders’ Council Hall, judging Andrew Han’s actions and assessing his future potential—the mindset of seniors looking down on a junior.
But times have changed, and the world has shifted.
Once merely the leader of the younger generation, Andrew Han now stands above all Alliance Elders, at the very forefront of humanity—
At the summit!
A Venerable Saint!
“Sigh.”
White-haired elder Harold Huang let out a breath, facing the black night and sea wind, smoothing his hair: “The key is, Venerable Han is no ordinary Venerable Saint… Aside from Supreme Saints and perhaps a few top Venerables, I fear Andrew Han is already invincible.”
That’s right.
From Quentin Suo of the Thunder Path Sect, everyone had vaguely learned of the impending disaster, and had personally heard Quentin admit his own inferiority—eyes nearly bulged out in disbelief.
To borrow Shawn Xiao’s words: without comparison, there is no pain.
Everyone at the Seafoam Front felt Andrew Han’s world-shaking might; the biting wind could not move their stunned faces, and even the winter night seemed to lose its color.
Just how powerful is Quentin Suo?
Moments earlier, Shawn Xiao had compared Quentin Suo and Andrew Han without bias, objectively judging that Andrew seemed weaker beside Quentin Suo, and thus appeared somewhat lacking.
The most awkward part is—
The more people agreed with this view, the more embarrassed they felt now.
“Ahem.”
Shawn Xiao couldn’t help but cover his left cheek.
In less than ten minutes, Shawn Xiao never expected the slap to come so quickly—it left him stunned, caught off guard, his thoughts grinding to a halt like a rusty machine, his mind filled with sudden shock.
Too fast—far too fast!
Shawn Xiao shook his head, a smile both bitter and admiring on his face: “Back then, I only wanted to raise a banner for the younger generation of the martial world. Was it that I underestimated Andrew Han, or has the world itself become unreal?”
He leaned toward having underestimated Andrew Han.
Because, across the whole world, there is only one Andrew Han from Sinovera.
When the news spreads, even the Gifted World will envy him—eyes turning red with jealousy.
“As expected—Venerable Han.”
Quinn Qing’s eyes flashed with understanding, and he couldn’t help but sigh in admiration: “I said long ago, Lord Andrew Han is no longer a Sky-Soaring True Person, but a Venerable Saint.”
He smiled in relief—thankful he’d cleared up the misunderstanding ahead of time; otherwise, it might come back to haunt him later for no reason at all.
Just watch.
You didn’t believe my guess.
Facing the moonlit sea breeze and the overlapping coastline, Shawn Xiao was at a loss: “Weren’t you just guessing too?”
“Vision matters. I can’t explain it to you.” Quinn Qing looked openly dismissive.
“???”
Shawn Xiao’s face darkened—clearly, he was being called slow-witted.
Heavens above!
Honestly, what martial artist could have predicted Venerable Han’s rise?
“No excuses.” Quinn Qing folded his arms, letting the sea breeze ruffle his hair, and laughed softly: “Now that Lord Andrew Han is Venerable Han, shall we guess when we’ll have to change his title again?”
Change his title again?
Supreme Saint?
Shawn Xiao’s eyelid twitched violently, his mouth tugged at the corner.
He didn’t dare think further—he just waved his hand, wanting only to quietly watch the coastal waves: “From now on, the world should call him Venerable Han.”
...
Meanwhile, all border attacks across Sinovera vanished.
The Netherfiends and giant Demons had only pretended to attack; their true goal was always clear—to kill Andrew Han, and perhaps a few Law-Realm guardians, and feast on humanity.
But they were wrong—wildly wrong.
Whether Netherfiend or giant Demon, all had drastically underestimated Andrew Han’s level of martial power.
“Next time.”
“Next time we encircle him, we’ll be fully prepared. We’ll even call on that deep-sea existence, and crush Andrew Han in an overwhelming assault.”
“Yes, yes, it must be so.”
“No matter what it takes, we’ll mobilize every ounce of power we can—Andrew Han must die!”
The Netherfiends and giant Demons secretly passed messages among themselves; the currents ran deep and treacherous.
At the same moment,
In Sinovera’s Martial Arts World—and throughout the Gifted Worlds of every nation—all cultivators above the Martial Lord level, whether martial artist or Gifted, received this earthshaking news.
It was as if thunder detonated across a tranquil plain—sudden and unstoppable.
Lightning rent the night sky; thunder crashed through the mortal world, casting stark illumination over faces frozen in astonishment.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to fall into utter silence.
Then, the silence shattered—cacophony erupted, the world boiled over, and an unprecedented spectacle unfolded.
...
Americonia, southern region.
“Venerable Han of Sinovera.”
The Fourth Legend, George, sat expressionless on a luxurious sofa in the living room, unwilling to rise, wanting only to sit quietly.
The air grew heavy with silence.
Every part of the villa—living room, bedroom, the rock garden and flowers—fell utterly still.
But the four blazing fire pillars supporting the villa trembled two or three times, betraying George’s inner turmoil.
“It’s impossible to surpass Han Dong.”
“Surpassing anyone else is meaningless. Only lying here quietly can keep me balanced.” George took a deep breath.
He sank into the sofa, projecting an air of detachment, as if he didn’t care at all.
Yet,
Even if his body pretended otherwise, his Gifted Power told the truth.
With a rumbling crash, two corners of the fire pillars supporting the villa collapsed. The Fourth Legend, George Allen, closed his eyes as the villa crashed to the ground.
He let out a soft sigh.
It wouldn’t take half a day before news spread throughout the Gifted World: the proud Fourth Legend, George, lost control of his Gifted Power, causing chaos and damaging his own villa the moment he heard of ‘Sinovera’s Venerable Han.’
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Regrettably,
He was overthinking things.
...
“Have you heard? That Venerable Han from Sinovera?”
“Of course. The whole Gifted World is pushing that news. You’d never guess—even I, usually steady as a mountain, crushed my brand new glass when I saw it.”
“Oh my, poor glass.”
“God, Venerable Han is terrifying.”
For the first time, the Gifted World discussed Sinovera’s martial artist Andrew Han on a large scale, and the argument that Gifted Power was inferior to martial arts gained traction. A wave of martial enthusiasm rose, and even Gifted experts began to admire Andrew Han.
Two years of cultivation.
And now, a Venerable Saint.
The strongest prodigy in history—now known as Venerable Han.
As the news spread, it was like a spark setting the prairie ablaze, sweeping across the entire Gifted World in an instant.
Compared to this, Sinovera’s Martial Arts World was almost calm; after all, Andrew Han was known for performing miracles.
More peerless than the peerless!
More legendary than the legends!
People had grown used to it, no longer surprised by miracles.
...
But at the very center of the world’s attention, Andrew Han now stood at the gate of a manor in the heart of Southridge Province.
It was early morning in Southridge’s central city, the air tinged with winter chill.
The luxurious manor stood in the suburbs. Its emerald lawn was a little desolate, and from inside came the crack of fists slicing the air, the shouts of instruction, and the grumbling of early risers.
With Andrew’s Law-Realm hearing, he could listen to everything within ten kilometers!
The terror of the Law Realm lay in exceeding every human limit, standing at the peak of the world.
“It seems harmonious enough.”
Andrew stood with hands folded behind his back at the manor gate.
He had come here for one reason.
To see Tyra Tai—the woman Liam Lee could not forget.
Andrew’s last meeting with Liam had been at Riverford Park, where Liam asked Andrew to look after her if anything happened.
“If someone entrusts you with a task, you see it through.” Andrew waited quietly.
He subtly adjusted his appearance, no longer shining like a diamond, but appearing plain and tranquil—so ordinary that no one could recognize him.
Besides, Law-Realm faces were top-secret files; only those above Martial Lord could know them.
Just then,
A middle-aged security guard at the gate yawned, stretched lazily. “You’re here to see Tyra Tai, right? Don’t rush, it’s early—everyone’s just waking up.”
“Mm.” Andrew nodded calmly.
His dignity needed no validation from the awe of ordinary people.
The guard, about forty, scratched his chin, took a few contented puffs of his cigarette, and eyed Andrew’s clothes.
After a while,
He grinned and gestured toward the manor.
Tyra Tai?
Andrew turned his gaze toward her.
A woman of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, graceful and clear-featured, with willow brows and apricot eyes, her face untouched by makeup, no trace of cosmetics or jewelry, walked up to Andrew and asked in gentle puzzlement, "Who are you?"
"I'm a friend of Liam Lee," Andrew said softly.
The moment he spoke those words,
Tyra Tai's expression shifted in an instant.