The atmosphere at three thousand meters was a chaotic, freezing vacuum, fractured by the violent descent of the Celestial Vanguard. The three Silver-Winged vessels hung in the indigo sky like predatory birds of white light, their resonance arrays creating a high-frequency thrum that made the air itself vibrate with a painful, sharp-edged tension.
Lin Feng plummeted through the void, his body a dark, silent silhouette against the radiant white flame of the vessels.
As he fell, the internal dual-loop circuit within his
Dantian
accelerated to a blistering, rhythmic peak. The
Stage 2 Meridian Foundation
within his skeletal framework began to glow with a brilliant, silver-white pearlescence that defied the laws of atmospheric drag. He didn't just fall; he anchored himself into the very spatial geometry of the upper atmosphere, his body becoming a conduit for the earth's geocentric weight.
Target locked. Resonance frequency: Celestial Sector 4,
Lin Feng calculated, his mind cool and detached, viewing the ethereal beings below not as gods, but as variables in a ledger he had already balanced.
Inside the flagship, the Celestial Vanguard stood in a rigid formation, their burning white wings flickering as they sensed the sudden, crushing shift in the atmosphere. Their leader, a being with eyes of burning molten silver, raised a crystalline staff, preparing to release a [Void-Grade Resonance Burst] meant to scour the entire Jiangnan airspace of "low-born" spiritual interference.
Suddenly, the leaderās staff went dead. The starlight flowing through its wings sputtered and turned to gray ash.
Lin Feng didn't land on the deck with the weight of a man. He landed with the weight of the mountain fault line he had just absorbed.
CRASH.
The lead flagshipās deck platesāforged from metal designed to withstand the crushing pressure of the celestial voidāgroaned and instantly crumpled. The impact wasn't a physical strike; it was a total energetic inversion. Lin Fengās presence on the ship instantly overloaded their resonance arrays, the silver-white light of his dual-loop circuit flooding their delicate vessels like acid through parchment.
The Celestial Vanguard didn't have time to summon their powers. Their glowing robes dissolved into wisps of smoke, and their burning wings dimmed to nothing as the absolute geocentric pressure of the earth crushed their artificial immortality.
Lin Feng stood amid the ruin of the flagshipās deck, his sneakers resting on a floor that had been turned into common, dead slag. He looked up at the two remaining vessels, which were already banking hard to escape the localized gravity well he had created.
"The audit is over," Lin Feng whispered, his voice resonating through the air of the celestial boundary with a terrifying, final weight.
He didn't chase them. He simply tapped the air with his right index finger.
The two vessels were ripped from the sky, their light-arc hulls folding inward under the pressure of a localized tectonic collapse. As they descended toward the Jiangnan coast in a hail of burning, broken starlight, Lin Feng watched with vacant, golden-flecked eyes.
The Celestial Sects had tried to judge the world, but they had found only the regressor who had already written the conclusion to their era. The sky over New Huaxia was finally, permanently, clear.