Chapter 209: 209- Transformation

Meanwhile outside the barrier, up in the sky. The air in Fang Lian’s lungs was fire.

Her meridians screamed in protest, a raw, scraping agony as her Qi threatened to buckle under the immense demand.

Every instinct for self-preservation shrieked at her to stop, to let the gathered light dissipate before it consumed her from the inside out.

But an even deeper instinct, roared louder.

KEEP AT IT!

And in that very instant, a memory surfaced vivid flash behind her eyes.

Suddenly she was back at the eastern courtyard. The courtyard was bathed in a cool, silver light from the moonlight.

And there she was, Fang Lian, her head barely reaching her master’s shoulder, stared up at the sky, her mouth agape.

Fang Yuan standing beside her had his hand outstretched.

Above them, six structures of blinding white energy hung, a five-pointed star, sharp and precise, humming with terrifying power.

"Tyrant Light Sword—Second Form: Star Form," Fang Yuan intoned, his voice steady, almost serene.

"Is it not beautiful?"

Fang Lian swallowed hard, her eyes wide. "It is, Master. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful."

"This..." Fang Yuan’s tone softened, a quiet undercurrent of weight in his words. "...is not yet the perfected version."

The young Fang Lian could only stare. To her, it was the most beautiful, the most powerful thing she had ever seen.

It was bright enough to shame the moon and seemed to hold the weight of the mountains.

And yet she was told it was not the perfected version.

"Not perfected?" she had whispered, awe-struck. "How can that be?"

"A star, Lian," Fang Yuan said, lowering his hand and looking down at her with a kind, knowing smile, "is a sun."

She blinked, confused. "A sun? But it’s a star. And it has five points. It’s perfect."

He chuckled softly, a warm, rich sound. "Trust me Because your master is a wizard."

The word was strange, foreign. ’Wizard.’

She didn’t understand it, just as she didn’t understand how her master knew so many inexplicable things.

The mystery was filed away in her mind, another piece of the enigma that was Fang Yuan.

Now, months later, facing down an army of rogue cultivators, the truth of his words exploded in her mind with the force of a revelation.

A star was a sun. It wasn’t about points or angles. It was about nature, about essence.

It was about containing that boundless, furious stellar heart.

The crowd of Golden Core experts before her strained against the pressure, their faces masks of terror and effort.

The very air under her twin suns grew thick and heavy, pushing them to their knees.

Yet, a few, driven by desperation or foolish bravery, pushed through the crushing weight.

They lunged, their swords aimed, their techniques flaring, a final, pathetic defiance against the daystar.

A profound calm settled over Fang Lian. The strain in her Qi was still there, but it was a distant echo.

She didn’t kept holding on to the light.

With a thought, she let the attack fall.

The twin stars above imploded and then expanded in a single, silent, annihilating wave of pure white heat.

There was no sound. Sound itself was consumed. The light washed over the attackers, over the ground, over everything.

It lasted only an instant.

When the light receded, the world had changed.

The charging cultivators were simply gone. Vanished. Not even ash remained.

And before the gates of the Fang family estate, the earth itself was forever scarred. A vast, glassy crater, half a mile wide, stretched into the distance.

The ground had been melted and fused into a sheet of obsidian-like glass, still shimmering with residual heat.

At the center of the crater, two deeper depressions marked the points of impact, a permanent testament to the twin suns that had briefly blazed there.

The only sound was the faint, high-pitched ping of the superheated glass slowly cooling.

Fang Lian lowered her sword, her breath finally evening out. The perfect star form had not just defeated her enemies.

It had rewritten the landscape.

The world tilted on its axis. The searing heat of her own power faded, replaced by a sudden, bone-deep chill.

The glorious, terrifying light was gone, and in its absence, the true cost of wielding it crashed down upon her.

Her knees buckled. The sword in her hand, once an extension of her will, now felt like a mountain of lead.

Her vision swam, the edges darkening, the stunned faces of the remaining cultivators blurring into a meaningless mosaic of color and then she started falling from the sky.

But before she even hit the ground.

A pair of strong, steady arms caught her, gathering her close before her knees could even brush the scorched earth.

The scent of sandalwood, uniquely, comfortingly Lin Zhaoyue, filled her senses, a familiar anchor in the sudden void of her exhaustion.

She was turned gently, her limp form cradled against a firm, warm body.

She managed to lift her heavy eyelids just enough to see Lin Zhaoyue’s face above her.

There was no fear there, no alarm.

Instead, there was a look of such fierce, unbridled pride that it seemed to glow brighter than the twin suns Fang Lian had just summoned.

Lin Zhaoyue looked every bit the proud parent, her gaze sweeping over Fang Lian’s pale, sweat-streaked face as if beholding a masterpiece.

A soft, incredulous laugh escaped her lips, a sound of pure wonder.

"You..." Lin Zhaoyue whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You managed to surprised even me there, Fang Lian."

Those words, filled with more awe and affection than any lengthy praise, were the final permission Fang Lian’s body needed.

The last thread of tension holding her consciousness together snapped.

A soft, almost soundless sigh escaped her lips. Her head lolled trustfully against Lin Zhaoyue’s shoulder.

In the absolute safety of those arms, surrounded by the evidence of her own impossible strength and the warmth of someone who looked at her not as a monster, but as a marvel, Fang Lian let go of everything.

And she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.