No one among the hundreds of spectating disciples, clan members, or tribunal officials dared to move. The cold mountain breeze whistled softly through the cracked stone pillars, carrying the metallic scent of spilled blood and scorched earth. High on the tribunal platform, the supporting elders stood frozen with their weapons half-sheathed, their eyes filled with a mixture of profound terror and cold realization.
On the judge's dais, Deacon Han remained collapsed on his hands and knees, staring blankly at the brass Shadow Viper token resting on the shattered stone floor. Sweat dripped continuously from his chin, soaking the rich fabric of his official robes. He knew that his career, his standing, and quite possibly his life were completely forfeit.
And in the center of the ruined arena, Second Elder Wu-Guang knelt beside the unconscious, bloody form of his son, Wu-Tian. His hands, stained dark red with Wu-Tian's spilled blood, trembled so violently that he could barely keep the boy's head elevated. The terrifying, authoritative echo of Li-Wen's parting words still reverberated in the deepest recesses of his soul. In a single afternoon, the fifteen-year-old cripple whom he had treated as worthless trash had not only pulverized his son's cultivation core beyond repair, but had also dismantled his decades-long political dominance over the Wu Clan with surgical precision.
Meanwhile, along the quiet, pine-shaded cobblestone pathways of the Wu Estate, Li-Wen maintained a smooth, unhurried pace. His posture was perfectly upright, his arms tucked neatly into the wide sleeves of his dark robes. His eyes, deep and tranquil as a mountain lake, absorbed the surrounding scenery without a hint of the bloodlust he had displayed inside the cage.
FOOTSTEPS.
The heavy, metallic thumping of iron-soled boots sounded rapidly from behind. Clan Head Wu-Wen blurred past the wooden archway, his chest heaving slightly as he caught up to his son. The older man's broad face was a storm of conflicting emotions—relics of lingering anxiety, fatherly concern, and an overwhelming, unutterable awe that he couldn't quite suppress.
"Li-Wen!" Wu-Wen called out, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic tremor as he brought himself to a halt beside the youth.
Li-Wen paused near a quiet, rustling bamboo grove, turning his head slightly. "Father."
Wu-Wen swallowed hard, looking intently at his son's face. He searched for any trace of the sickly, timid boy who had spent the last fifteen years hiding in the shadows of the estate, wasting his days in despair. But he found nothing. The eyes staring back at him possessed an ancient, crushing depth—an aura that made even a veteran Earth-Realm cultivator feel like a child standing before a mountain peak.
"Where... where did you get that token from the Shadow Viper Pavilion?" Wu-Wen asked, his tone laced with genuine confusion. "And your cultivation... the speed at which you struck, the way you handled that energy... How is any of this possible?"
A faint, microscopic smile touched Li-Wen's lips. "A dragon does not remain trapped in a muddy puddle forever, Father. The past fifteen years were merely a period of dormant slumber while this vessel adjusted to its spirit. As for the token... those who dwell in the dark market sell their secrets just as easily as they sell poison. Old Man Chen at the Hundred Herbs Hall was more than willing to facilitate the transaction in exchange for a few pointers."
Wu-Wen blinked, his jaw slackening slightly. "Old Man Chen? That eccentric, retired alchemist from the lower district? He helped you?"
"He understands his place and values his life," Li-Wen replied smoothly. He turned to face his father fully, his expression turning sharp and solemn. "Father, the Wu Clan is far too small, and its waters are far too shallow. Wu-Guang's influence over the council is shattered for today, but a wounded beast backed into a corner will eventually snap back. You must use this momentum immediately. Strip the remaining elders of their military commands, seize the clan's central treasury, and consolidate absolute authority under the Clan Head's seal."
Wu-Wen stared at his son, feeling a profound shift in the air. For the first time in his life, he realized he wasn't giving advice to his child; he was receiving a strategic decree from an absolute sovereign. He slowly nodded, his grip tightening around the hilt of his long sword. "I understand. The clan council has been corrupt for too long. I will clean house tonight. But what about you? What is your next step?"
Li-Wen looked past the high perimeter walls of the estate, his eyes fixing on the jagged, cloud-shrouded peaks of the Cloud-Piercing Mountains rising in the far distance.
"I have reached the absolute limit of what this stagnant environment can offer my current body," Li-Wen said calmly. "To forge my foundation further, I require rare spirit herbs, high-grade spiritual stones, and a place where the environmental Ki is thick and untamed. Tomorrow, I will enter the primeval forest."
Night fell swiftly over Azure Mist City.
A thick, silver fog rolled down from the surrounding mountain ranges, blanketing the winding alleys and wooden rooftops in an eerie, quiet gloom. Inside the Wu Estate, the lights in the main hall burned late into the night as Wu-Wen executed a ruthless political purge of Wu-Guang's remaining loyalists.
At the eastern edge of the estate, far removed from the bustling central pavilions, sat Li-Wen's isolated courtyard.
The small, modest room was silent save for the subtle murmur of the night wind. Li-Wen sat cross-legged on a simple wooden meditation platform in the center of the room. The cool, silvery moonlight poured through the paper-pane window, illuminating his pale face and the smooth, relaxed lines of his frame.
He closed his dark eyes and gently activated the internal breathing channels of the Void Sovereign Technique.
HUMMMM.
The atmospheric Ki floating within a fifty-foot radius of the courtyard trembled faintly. Tiny, visible wisps of pale blue and silver energy began spiraling around his body, drawn toward his pores like iron filings to a powerful magnet.
Inside his body, his five opened meridians glowed like luminous silver threads. The spiritual energy he had refined from the Supreme Grade Body-Cleansing Marrow Pill at Old Man Chen's shop circulated with fluid perfection, washing away the final lingering trace of physical impurities from his bones and blood.
Ki-Refine Stage Three.
His current physical strength, bolstered by the newly awakened Abyssal Bone Rune along his spine, was already far superior to a standard cultivator at the Fifth or Sixth Stage of Ki-Refine. He could easily shatter iron and tear through mortal armor with his bare hands.
However, to a former God Emperor who had once commanded celestial legions, this level of power was still laughably weak. Against true masters—such as high-level Earth-Realm warriors or Sky-Realm experts—his current mortal vessel remained far too fragile. A single surprise attack from a high-grade spiritual treasure could still prove troublesome.
"Three days..." Li-Wen murmured, his eyes slowly opening as a sharp, golden glint flashed in the darkness before vanishing. "Old Man Chen should have gathered the Iron-Skin Grass and the fifty-year-old Spirit-Ginseng by now. With those, I can refine the Foundation-Forging Liquid and break directly into the late stages of Ki-Refine."
RUSTLE.
The sound was impossibly subtle—less than the weight of a falling leaf touching the damp soil outside his window. To a normal mortal or even a Third-Stage cultivator, it would have been completely undetectable beneath the sound of the wind.
But to Li-Wen, whose Divine Sense was anchored to an immortal soul, that tiny disturbance resonated inside his mind like a striking bell.
Three distinct breathing signatures. Low, disciplined, and rhythmically controlled. Approaching from three different angles across the courtyard roof.
A cold, mocking sneer curled the corner of Li-Wen's thin lips. He didn't move an inch, nor did he alter the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"So, Wu-Guang couldn't even manage to restrain his desperation until sunrise," Li-Wen whispered softly to himself. "Sending professional rat-catchers from the dark market to clean up his mess."
CLICK.
The wooden latch on the courtyard window slid open without a sound.
Three dark, shadowy figures glided through the opening like spectral phantoms, landing soundlessly on the wooden floorboards. They were dressed from head to toe in tight, night-black leather suits, their faces concealed by dark cloth masks, leaving only cold, lifeless eyes visible.
Each of them held a pair of narrow, jet-black daggers. The polished metal of the blades shimmered with a faint, nauseating green sheen—the unmistakable mark of high-grade, soul-corroding paralyzing poison.
They were professional assassins hired from the underground rings—veterans at the Peak Fourth Stage of Ki-Refine who specialized in silent executions.
The lead assassin took a single step forward, his voice a raspy, dry whisper that barely carried across the room. "Wu Li-Wen. Second Elder sends his final regards. You should have died in the cage."
Without waiting for a response, all three assassins moved simultaneously.
Their speed was execution-level perfection. They blurred across the wooden floor in a lethal triangular formation, their poisoned daggers cutting through the silent air with terrifying precision. One blade aimed directly at Li-Wen's throat, another targeted his heart from the left flank, while the third plunged down toward his crown from above.
They expected panic. They expected a desperate, screaming struggle from a fifteen-year-old boy caught off-guard in the dead of night.
Instead, Li-Wen didn't even bother to open his eyes fully or stand up from his cross-legged position.
"Insignificant, worthless insects," Li-Wen murmured quietly.
BZZZZZT—BOOM!
A blinding, golden aura erupted from Li-Wen's body like a miniature sun igniting inside the dim room.
It was not merely spiritual Ki; it was the microscopic, concentrated release of his Divine Will—the absolute, crushing pressure of a celestial ruler. The atmospheric pressure inside the small room soared to an impossible level in a fraction of a second. The wooden beams groaned under the sudden weight, and the air turned as dense as solid lead.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The three assassins froze mid-air, their bodies slamming into an invisible, impassable wall of pure force. The violent kinetic shockwave shattered their black daggers into hundreds of tiny, metallic splinters that rained onto the floor.
"AAAGHH!"
Tracheas ruptured, and ribs snapped under the invisible, suffocating weight. The three killers crashed heavily onto the wooden floorboards, their dark masks torn away as they vomited torrents of dark, thick blood. Their eyes bulged with sheer, unadulterated horror as they found themselves completely paralyzed, pinned to the floor as if an invisible mountain had been placed upon their chests.
They couldn't breathe. They couldn't circulate their Ki. The entity sitting casually before them felt less like a human cultivator and more like an ancient, primordial demon staring down at them from the clouds.
Li-Wen slowly unfolded his legs and stood up. His dark robes fluttered gently as he stepped off the wooden platform, his leather boots making a slow, rhythmic tapping sound against the floor.
He walked over to the kneeling leader of the assassin squad, looking down at him with an expression of absolute, terrifying indifference.
"You came to take my life," Li-Wen said, his voice smooth and flat. "Tell me... did Wu-Guang truly believe three rats at the Fourth Stage of Ki-Refine could alter his destiny?"
The lead assassin whimpered, his face pale as death, blood leaking continuously from his nose and mouth. "S-Spare... spare..."
"Send a message to your master in the underworld," Li-Wen said softly, placing his right foot lightly onto the center of the assassin's chest.
THUMP.
With a single, effortless flex of his internal Ki, a shockwave passed directly through the assassin's ribcage, bursting his heart instantly. The man's body twitched once before going completely limp, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
The remaining two assassins trembled so violently that their teeth chattered loud enough to fill the quiet room. Tears of pure terror mingled with the blood on their cheeks as they scrambled backward on their elbows, instinctively trying to put distance between themselves and the monster standing before them.
Li-Wen turned his cold, golden-tinged gaze onto the surviving two killers.
"Clean up this filth," Li-Wen commanded, his voice echoing like an absolute decree. "And deliver their heads directly to Wu-Guang's front door before the sun rises.
See you in next chapter...