Crimson Asura Secret Realm – Layer 8, Asura Emperor's Vault
The vault doors cracked open with a thunderous groan, revealing rivers of immortal blood and shelves of divine weapons glowing like captured stars.
147 geniuses from every path flooded in, eyes wide, hearts pounding.
Aurora Luminous, Cassandra Yue, and Seraphiel "Sera" Luminous stood at the front, the "trusted guardians" of the expedition.
Cassandra's sword flashed first.
One swing.
Ten elf archers from the Heaven Path fell, throats slit before they could nock arrows. Blood sprayed across the vault walls like abstract art.
Sera's holy bow sang next.
Light arrows pierced three dragon princes mid-transformation, pinning their scales to the stone floor. They gurgled, wings twitching, as their cores shattered.
Aurora adjusted her glasses, utterly calm.
She rang the Celestial Execution Bell once.
DONG.
The suppression wave hit like a divine hammer.
Every genius below Nascent Soul dropped to their knees, techniques sealed, bloodlines locked. Screams echoed as meridians burst from the backlash.
The three women moved like reapers.
Cassandra's blade danced through the crowd—limbs severed, heads rolling, golden-core shields popping like soap bubbles.
Sera's arrows claimed the stragglers, holy light burning through demon hides and human flesh alike.
Aurora directed it all with cold efficiency, herding the survivors into a corner like sheep.
In under five minutes: 127 dead.
20 left alive, trembling on the floor.
Aurora knelt before the trembling sect elder who'd lent her the bell.
"Sorry, Uncle. The treasures are too good to share."
She drove a dagger through his heart, twisted, and watched the light fade from his eyes.
Cassandra looted the divine weapons, stuffing them into her spatial ring.
Sera drained the immortal blood into vials.
Aurora claimed the Asura Emperor's core crystal—the single most valuable item in nine realms.
Sera wiped blood from her bowstring.
"Blame it on Ace?"
Aurora smiled, glasses glinting in the vault's crimson light.
"Already done. I planted the hypnosis traces on the bodies. When they find this… House Lust becomes enemy number one."
The three women stepped over the corpse mountain, loaded with 70% of the realm's treasures, and vanished through a pre-planted escape gate.
Behind them, the vault doors sealed forever.
The 20 survivors crawled to the nearest communication jade, gasping out the message to the outside world:
"Ace… Ace of House Lust… he betrayed us all…"
News spread like hellfire.
Bounty issued within the hour:
**Ace Lusteria – Demonic Calamity #1**
**Reward: One complete immortal inheritance**
The nine realms went to war.
Three days later – outside the Crimson Asura Realm
The floating continent was a war zone.
Heaven Path fleets blockaded the skies.
Dragon Clan warships prowled the voids.
Neutral path mercenaries turned the ground into a tent city of bounty hunters.
Every jade screen, every communication array, blasted the same image:
My face, rendered in glowing runes, with "WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE" stamped across it.
Comment sections across the realms:
"Finally, someone gutsy enough to take down House Lust's little monster."
"Ace hypnotized the guardians? Classic demon trick."
"Bounty is a full inheritance? I'm in."
Inside our flying palace (now cloaked in spatial camouflage), I lounged on a throne of shadow silk, flipping through the bounty posters like they were takeout menus.
Kai chuckled from his seat, disguised as a harmless mortal scholar.
"They're calling you 'The Hypnotic Tyrant.' Sexy."
Riven sipped tea, water tendrils swirling around his fingers.
"Bet they think we massacred the vault too. Idiots."
Azrath cracked his knuckles, the sound like distant thunder.
"When do we drop the hammer?"
I smiled, tracing a finger over the poster's reward text.
"Soon. Let them dig their graves first."
Tamamo and Seraphine burst into the throne room, arms full of auction-house shopping bags (because why not multitask apocalypse with retail therapy).
Tamamo dropped a bag of cursed jewelry on the table.
"Grandpa says hello. And that the bounty pissed him off more than the assassination attempt."
Seraphine tossed me a new spatial ring.
"Inside: 2,000 fresh servants, fully equipped. Plus, Lian's been… productive."
As if summoned, Lian stumbled in, disheveled, lipstick smeared, carrying a half-eaten plate of demonic pastries.
"Sorry… mommy needed a snack break."
Everyone stared.
Azrath sighed. "Kid, therapy. After we win."
I stood, stretching.
"Alright, family meeting over. Time to remind the realms who really owns this inheritance."
I crushed the bounty poster in my fist. Black flames ate it away.
Outside, the fleets tightened their blockade.
They had no idea we were already inside… and the real massacre was just beginning.
Crimson Asura Secret Realm – Layer 9, The Corpse Fields
The final layer was a graveyard of ancient wars: 90,000 Asura skeletons from the last cataclysm, bleached white under crimson skies.
But not for long.
We'd been farming it for days—monsters, traps, rival squads who'd slipped in through cracks. Bodies piled up like cordwood.
Now, the harvest.
I stood at the center of the fields, black robes billowing in the blood wind.
Kai and Riven flanked me, eyes glowing with suppressed power.
"Begin," I said.
90,000 corpses ignited in unison.
Not fire—blood. Rivers of it surged from every wound, every pore, converging on the massive circle I'd carved into the ground with my own hands.
Runes the size of mountains pulsed.
The air screamed as souls were ripped free and funneled into the Asura Sacrifice Array—the forbidden ritual that turned death into divine ascension.
Azrath guarded the perimeter, his Nascent-Soul aura a wall of flame no one could breach.
Tamamo's tails wove illusion veils, hiding the light show from prying eyes.
Seraphine froze the edges, preventing any blood from spilling wastefully.
Lian… well, he was on "mommy duty" back at base.
The circle completed.
Three pillars of blood erupted—one for each of us.
Kai's disguise shattered as golden-core essence flooded his veins. His body twisted, reformed, breakthrough complete in seconds. Late Golden Core. Master of shadows.
Riven's water laws boiled into steam, then condensed into crystalline perfection. Waves of pressurized ocean crashed through him. Late Golden Core. Lord of tides.
Mine hit last—and hardest.
Hypnosis intent amplified a thousandfold. The air warped around me, reality bending to my gaze. Every soul in the realm felt it: a whisper in their minds, promising obedience or oblivion.
Late Golden Core. The unchained tyrant.
The ritual ended.
The fields were ash.
We stood reborn, power crackling like bottled thunder.
Then the survivors arrived—47 geniuses who'd clawed through the layers, led by Aurora, Cassandra, and Sera.
They froze at the sight of the desolation.
Aurora's glasses slipped down her nose.
"You… you did this?"
I smiled, stepping forward.
"No. You did."
Before they could react, I blurred.
Cassandra's sword came up—too slow. I sidestepped, snatched the Celestial Execution Bell from Aurora's belt mid-motion, and rang it once.
DONG.
The suppression wave hit.
47 geniuses dropped like puppets with cut strings. Cultivation sealed. Techniques null. Bloodlines chained.
Aurora hit her knees first, staring at her empty waist.
"My… bell…"
I spun it on one finger, casual as a coin.
"Thanks for keeping it warm, glasses girl."
The 47 survivors knelt in the ash, trembling, stripped of everything but their lives.
I walked the line like a king inspecting trash.
Kai looted their rings, whistling at the haul.
"Divine swords, immortal pills… oh, and Cassandra's favorite thigh-highs. Keeping these."
Riven summoned water serpents to bind their wrists.
"Comfy?"
Tamamo laughed, tails swishing.
"Pose for the family portrait, darlings."
Azrath just stood there, arms crossed, making grown golden-cores wet themselves.
Aurora glared up at me, glasses crooked, dignity in tatters.
"You… you'll never get away with this. The realms will—"
I rang the bell again. Soft chime, just for her.
DONG.
Her words died in her throat. Eyes glazed. Mouth slack.
"Tell the realms," I said softly, leaning down to her level, "that the Hypnotic Tyrant sends his regards."
I straightened, spun the bell one last time, and tucked it into my robe.
"Leave them alive. Let them crawl back and spread the word."
The bindings snapped. Water serpents dissolved.
The 47 scrambled to their feet—or what was left of them—and fled into the realm's depths, sobbing, naked, broken.
Cassandra paused at the exit, sword gone, pride shattered.
"Why… spare us?"
I smiled.
"Because dead men tell no tales. But you? You'll make me a legend."
The vault's true heart opened behind us—the Asura Emperor's throne, untouched.
We stepped inside.
Outside, the nine realms prepared for holy war.
Inside, I claimed my inheritance.
And somewhere, Lian sneezed again.