## Chapter Thirty-Four: The Golden Core's Sacrifice
The chill of the pre-dawn forest bit at Yan Zhen's skin, a stark contrast to the stifling warmth of the sect he had just left. Each step deeper into the Crimsonwood Forest was a step away from a life of torment, yet also a step into an abyss of uncertainty. He was **twenty-one years old**, outwardly bruised and defeated, but a core of resilient, burgeoning power pulsed within him. He clutched the small pouch Lin Feng had given him, the weight of the spirit stones a tangible reminder of his friend's supposed unwavering loyalty.
A profound sense of loneliness settled over him, heavier than any physical burden. The Cloud Soaring Sect, for all its cruelty, had been his world. Now, he was cast out, a rogue cultivator with a chaotic qi signature that would mark him, and a powerful, ancient entity, **Elder Xuan (玄老)**, as his sole companion.
*"This wilderness is a crucible, boy,"* Elder Xuan's voice resonated in his mind, devoid of comfort, yet imbued with a sense of purpose. *"Your unique qi will thrive here, away from the restrictive formations of that stagnant sect. Your true path begins now."* Yan Zhen found little solace in the words, his mind replaying Ling Xia's triumphant sneer, the weight of his lost bet. He was free, yes, but at what cost? He looked back once, towards the distant, shimmering peak of the sect, a silhouette against the lightening sky. He saw no one.
Then, the forest shifted.
Not a rustle of leaves, but a profound, chilling stillness. The air grew heavy, thick with oppressive spiritual pressure. The birds ceased their morning chirping. Yan Zhen's instincts screamed. He spun around, his hand instinctively going to his hip, where a crude spiritual dagger pulsed faintly.
Three figures materialized from the shadows of the ancient trees, their forms indistinct at first, then solidifying into beings of immense power. Each radiated the undeniable aura of a **Golden Core Elder**. Elder Tai, a gaunt man with eyes like chipped ice; Elder Jin, a hulking figure whose spiritual energy felt like a crushing mountain; and Elder Hua, a deceptively serene woman whose gaze held chilling resolve. They moved with silent, predatory grace, encircling Yan Zhen before he could even think to run.
"Disciple Yan Zhen," Elder Tai's voice was a low rumble, devoid of emotion. "The Sect Leader has deemed you a threat to the harmony of the Cloud Soaring Sect. Your unique qi is unstable, your potential unchecked. You are to be... neutralized."
Yan Zhen's blood ran cold. This was not just expulsion; this was an assassination. He was being hunted like a beast. The desperation he had thought was behind him returned, raw and visceral. He was **Foundation Establishment, Stage 3**, powerful for his age and hidden status, but utterly outmatched against three Golden Core masters.
*"Fight! Channel! Let your qi erupt! You cannot win, but you must delay!"* Elder Xuan roared within his mind, a rare surge of alarm in his ancient voice.
Yan Zhen didn't hesitate. He roared, a guttural sound of defiance, and unleashed his chaotic qi. It surged around him in a wild, untamed vortex, tearing at the ground, shattering nearby saplings. He lunged at Elder Hua, aiming a desperate, powerful punch, forcing her to raise a shimmering spiritual shield.
The battle was a whirlwind of despair. Yan Zhen fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal, fueled by pure instinct and Elder Xuan's frantic guidance. He moved like a shadow, his chaotic qi blasts unpredictable, occasionally forcing the Elders to recoil, but they were too powerful, too coordinated. Elder Jin's massive spiritual fist slammed into him, sending him crashing into a tree, the impact rattling his bones. Elder Tai's qi threads snaked around him, binding him, while Elder Hua prepared a devastating spiritual art. Yan Zhen was bleeding, his vision blurring, the taste of copper in his mouth. He knew this was the end. His brief taste of hope, of freedom, was fleeting.
Then, a sudden, blinding flash of golden light ripped through the forest. A figure, faster than the eye could follow, erupted from the tree line, moving with impossible speed.
"STOP! LEAVE HIM BE!"
Lin Feng!
Yan Zhen's heart seized in his chest, a mixture of profound shock and dizzying hope. Lin Feng, outwardly **Foundation Establishment, Stage 5**, was suddenly here, an aura of raw, uncontained power swirling around him, a power far beyond his public cultivation. His eyes blazed with a desperate fury that seemed utterly genuine.
Lin Feng did not waste a second. He shot towards Elder Hua, his fist glowing with the nascent brilliance of a **Golden Core**. Yan Zhen watched, stunned, as Lin Feng, his supposed friend, directly engaged the Golden Core Elders! This was not a Foundation Establishment cultivator. This was a **Golden Core, Stage 1** master, fighting with a ferocity that shook the very ground.
"You dare betray the sect?" Elder Tai bellowed, his face contorted in disbelief as Lin Feng's Golden Core aura flared. "You too are a traitor!"
Lin Feng didn't answer. He parried Elder Jin's heavy blow with a desperate, qi-burning technique, a shimmering barrier that glowed with an ominous, almost black light, consuming spiritual energy at an alarming rate. He then spun, launching a powerful, condensed qi blast at Elder Hua, forcing her to defend. His face was a mask of desperation, sweat beading on his brow.
"Yan Zhen is my friend!" Lin Feng roared, his voice thick with raw emotion, echoing through the forest. "I will not let you kill him! If saving him means abandoning the Cloud Soaring Sect, then so be it! **From this moment forth, I, Lin Feng, renounce my allegiance to the Cloud Soaring Sect!**"
The declaration hit Yan Zhen like a physical blow, stripping away every layer of his composure. Lin Feng, abandoning everything for him? The sect, his status, his future… all for Yan Zhen? Tears welled in his eyes, not from physical pain, but from an overwhelming surge of gratitude and utter disbelief. He had been wrong. Lin Feng wasn't a victim of Ling Xia; he was a true friend, sacrificing his entire life for him. Elder Xuan remained silent, a strange, unreadable quality in his presence, as if observing a grand, intricate play.
Just as Lin Feng uttered his desperate declaration, another figure burst into the clearing. Ling Xia.
Her face was a mask of utter horror. Her eyes, wide and disbelieving, fixed on Lin Feng, then on Yan Zhen, then back to the Elders. She had heard his words. "Lin Feng! No! What are you doing? Don't be foolish! Don't throw away everything!" Her voice cracked, tinged with a raw, psychological shock that left her momentarily paralyzed. The thought of Lin Feng hating her, of him severing ties with the sect for that brute, tore at her sanity. She stumbled forward, her spiritual energy flaring erratically, desperately wanting to intervene, to pull Lin Feng back, to make him reconsider.
But Lin Feng ignored her, his focus solely on the three Elders. "You want him, you go through me!" he snarled, a wave of his true Golden Core power exploding outwards. He knew he couldn't defeat three Golden Core Elders, especially not publicly without revealing his cultivation. This was about the performance, the sacrifice.
He launched himself into a maelstrom of desperate, self-damaging techniques. He burned his own qi, pushing his nascent Golden Core to its absolute limits, drawing on forbidden arts that Elder Xuan immediately recognized as devastating. Lin Feng's movements became erratic, faster, his aura flickering between brilliant gold and a sickly dimness. He coughed, a spray of golden-tinged blood misting in the air, his face blanching, his eyes showing a profound exhaustion that seemed to come from his very soul. He used his spiritual essence as fuel, buying precious seconds, forcing the Elders to retreat, their faces grim as they faced a Golden Core cultivator fighting with suicidal abandon.
"He's destroying his Golden Core!" Elder Hua gasped, watching Lin Feng's reckless disregard for his own foundation. "He's mad!"
Lin Feng screamed, a raw, tormented sound, as he unleashed a final, desperate burst of energy, a technique that forced the Elders back, giving him a precious window. The effort left him reeling, his qi violently unstable, his Golden Core suffering severe internal cracks. He stumbled, collapsing momentarily beside Yan Zhen, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Zhen... run!" Lin Feng gasped, his voice weak, his hand weakly reaching for Yan Zhen. "I... I can't hold them much longer."
Yan Zhen, consumed by gratitude and a desperate need to save the friend who had sacrificed everything, dragged Lin Feng to his feet. He saw the true damage, the exhaustion, the pain etched on Lin Feng's face. This wasn't an act, not entirely. Lin Feng had truly hurt himself for him.
"We go together!" Yan Zhen roared, channeling his remaining chaotic qi, using it as a desperate shield. He pulled Lin Feng, now weak and heavily injured, into the dense undergrowth, disappearing into the shadows of the Crimsonwood Forest as the three Golden Core Elders, momentarily stunned by Lin Feng's devastating self-harm, regrouped, their faces etched with a mix of fury and bewildered respect for the young traitor's desperate gamble. They would hunt them, but for now, the two friends were hidden.
After their desperate escape from the Golden Core Elders, Yan Zhen, supporting the severely weakened Lin Feng, pushed deeper into the Crimsonwood Forest. They didn't stop until the sounds of pursuit faded entirely, and the dense canopy overhead became a suffocating blanket against the pale morning light.
They found refuge in a **secluded, overgrown hollow nestled between the gnarled roots of ancient, towering spirit trees**. The hollow was almost entirely hidden by a thick curtain of vines and dense, thorny bushes, creating a natural alcove barely large enough for two injured cultivators to huddle. A faint, earthy scent filled the air, mixed with the metallic tang of Lin Feng's blood.
This makeshift hideout offered them temporary concealment, a small pocket of silence where they could recover from the brutal confrontation and lick their wounds, safe (for now) from the prying spiritual senses of the pursuing elders. Yan Zhen gently lowered Lin Feng, whose face was pale and slick with sweat, onto the soft forest floor, his own heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion, fear, and an overwhelming, fierce gratitude.
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