Han Xu lifted the letter with both hands, trembling faintly.
The blood-ink on the parchment writhed like a living thing before finally congealing into thunderous characters:
"Chu Ning is to be the hall master. Upon seeing this order, treat it as though you were seeing me."
"Absurd!"
A furious roar exploded without warning.
In the hall, a middle-aged man in a green robe sprang to his feet. His sleeves shattered the tea table as he pointed at Chu Ning and shouted, "He hasn't even learned the Seven Forms of the Lightning Prison. What gives him the right to take charge of the secret vault?"
This man was Lin Yue, an instructor of the Jia Court Academy, known for his fierce and stern ways. At that moment, his eyes blazed with fury as he swept his gaze across the elders in the hall and thundered:
"You think a single letter can win everyone over?"
The air abruptly congealed, while thunderlight churned faintly.
Chu Ning did not grow angry. Instead, he slowly surveyed the surroundings, his gaze calm as the deep sea, a faint gleam flickering in his Golden Eyes.
He understood that no one in the martial hall wanted him to return and immediately inherit the position of hall master.
Regardless of whether Lei Wanjun had left a handwritten letter or personally appointed him hall master, they did not want him sitting in that position.
The Thunderclap Martial Hall was not merely a sacred ground of the Martial Path in outsiders' eyes. It was the destination of countless heroes who had plotted and struggled all their lives, bitterly cultivated and fought, carving out a bloody path with blades and swords. It was the shelter they had exhausted their hearts and souls to earn the right to stand within.
Yet now, with