In less than half a day, the news spread like a stone casting ripples across a thousand layers of waves.
Andrew Han’s name thundered through Southvale, renowned as if echoing from the clouds. Even some Martial Generals quietly took note of his preferences—Antique Relics.
They did not think much of it.
It was simply a gesture of goodwill. Even those who suspected Andrew Han hid some great secret merely paused in doubt before shaking their heads in silence.
A Peerless First Rank can still be coerced.
A Peerless Martial Artist could still be looked down upon.
But a Peerless Martial Artist who has reached the very peak of the realm is not someone anyone dares to provoke lightly—even an ordinary Martial Lord must weigh their actions carefully.
Thirty-sixth floor of Imperial Crown Plaza—a plain, understated office.
Creak.
A black leather office chair spun slowly.
A middle-aged man in coarse hemp robes slowly turned to face forward, his skin clear and radiant like crystal diamond—almost as if a god walked among mortals.
He was Leon Yu, Guardian of Southvale Province.
Earlier, when Andrew Han killed a General-class Demon as a First Rank, Miles Ning had given Leon Yu a heads-up.
"Hmm."
Leon Yu’s indifferent gaze lifted. He spoke softly: “Kane Qi, go to the Iron Sun Sect and demand a proper explanation.”
His commanding voice echoed, carrying an unfathomable wave that seemed to pierce through the walls.
“Yes, sir!”
Outside the office, a reply sounded.
This was a grave stain upon the entire sect—no matter how much time passed, it would never be washed away.
If the Iron Sun Sect dared to resent Andrew Han, Leon Yu, as the Guardian of Southvale Province, would make them understand what truly irreversible consequences are.
The soft-hearted female disciple said awkwardly, "You're just a Lower Martial Artist, you probably couldn't beat Sean Cen."