White River City. The ruins of the Ye Clan Estate.
The dust had settled, but the terror remained. The once-majestic gates were rubble. The main hall was missing a roof. In the center of the courtyard, Ye Kai sat on the patriarch's throne. It was too small for his Titan frame, so the wood creaked under his weight.
Kneeling before him were the surviving Elders of the Ye Clan. To the side, lying on a stretcher, was Ye Tian (the former Patriarch). His arms were shattered, his cultivation destabilized. He looked old. The arrogance that defined him for fifty years had been punched out of his body. His son, Ye Long, was sobbing quietly in the corner, his legs twisted at unnatural angles.
"I will not kill you," Ye Kai rumbled. His voice was calm, devoid of the anger he used to feel. "Killing you is too easy. And Master says dead people can't pay taxes."
He threw a scroll onto the ground. [Divine Dragon Protectorate Agreement.]
"From today," Ye Kai announced, "The Ye Clan is a subsidiary of the Divine Dragon Sect. You will manage the businesses. You will run the mines." "But 70% of the net profit goes to us."
"70%?!" An Elder gasped. "Young Master... that will leave us with barely enough to survive!"
Ye Kai leaned forward. The golden runes on his skin glowed. "Would you prefer 100% of zero?"
The Elder shut his mouth and slammed his head on the floor. "We accept! We accept!"
Ye Kai stood up. He looked at his father one last time. Ye Tian refused to meet his eyes. "You called me trash," Ye Kai whispered. "Remember this feeling, Father. The 'Trash' now owns the roof over your head."
Ye Kai turned to the Violet Mist Elder, who was shivering in the corner. "And you. Go tell Grandma Venom that my Master expects a 'Bonus Payment' for not destroying her alliance partner. She has 24 hours."
The Gathering at Twin Peaks
Two days later. The entrance to the Divine Dragon Realm at Twin Peaks Valley was crowded. But it wasn't an army. It was a line.
Sect Leader Jian (Heavenly Sword Sect). Grandma Venom (Violet Mist Pavilion). The City Lord of White River City. Every major power in the Southern Region had gathered. They brought chests of Spirit Stones, rare herbs, and artifacts.
They weren't here to fight. They were here to submit. The news had spread: Ye Kai one-shot a Golden Core. Su Ling bankrupt the Blood Soul Sect. Wei Wu crippled an army. The Divine Dragon Sect was no longer a rising star. It was the sun, and if they didn't bow, they would burn.
"The tribute is prepared," Sect Leader Jian whispered, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Hopefully, this appeases the Monster."
The massive jade gates of the Realm groaned open. Old Sky (The Butler) floated out. He didn't look at the Sect Leaders. He looked at the chests. "Line up," Old Sky rasped. "No pushing. Have your inventory lists ready. Master hates messy paperwork."
The Sovereigns of the South lined up like commoners, handing over their treasures to a ghost butler.
The Sky Cracks
Just as Grandma Venom was handing over a box of Poison Dragon Grass, the sky darkened. It wasn't a cloud. The air pressure dropped so low that the weaker disciples in the valley fainted instantly.
CRACK.
High above, the blue sky tore open like a piece of paper. But this wasn't the gentle opening of a portal. This was a violent breach. Purple lightning danced around the tear. Through the crack, a massive object descended.
It was a ship. But unlike the wooden flying boats of the Southern Region, this ship was made of Star-Steel. It was enormous—blocking out the sun. Its sails were made of energy, catching the cosmic wind. On the side of the ship, a flag waved. It bore the symbol of a Silver Thunderbolt.
[System Warning: Regional Barrier Breached.] [Intruder Detected: Central Continent Vessel.]
The ship descended, hovering arrogantly above the Divine Dragon Realm's entrance. A ramp extended. A young man walked out. He wore robes woven from lightning. His aura was terrifying—he was only twenty years old, yet his fluctuation was Peak Golden Core. Behind him stood two guards who radiated Nascent Soul pressure.
The Southern Sect Leaders trembled. "That ship... that pressure... they are from the Outside!" Sect Leader Jian gasped.
The young man looked down at the crowd of "bumpkins" with undisguised disgust. "So this is the Southern Region?" The young man sneered. "What a desolate wasteland. The Qi is so thin I can barely breathe."
He looked at Old Sky. He looked at the jade gates of the Divine Dragon Realm. His eyes lit up with greed. "Oh? A Pocket Dimension in a trash heap like this? And a Remnant Soul acting as a servant?"
The young man laughed. "I am Lei Ming, Core Disciple of the Thunder Pavilion from the Central Continent!" "By the order of the Thunder Lord, this region is now a resource colony."
He pointed at the Divine Dragon Realm. "And I hereby claim this Pocket Dimension as my personal vacation home." "You there, ghost servant. Hand over the control token and kneel."
The Clash of Cultures
Silence fell over the valley. The Southern Sect Leaders held their breath. They knew how scary Jiang Chen was. But the Central Continent was a myth—a place where Gods walked. This Lei Ming was young, but his background was terrifying.
Old Sky blinked. He looked at the arrogant young man. "You want... this realm?" Old Sky asked, his voice dry.
"Did I stutter?" Lei Ming smirked. "Hand it over, and I might let you continue serving as a janitor. Refuse, and my guards will dissipate your soul."
Suddenly, three figures walked out from behind Old Sky. Ye Kai, Su Ling, and Wei Wu. They had just returned from their missions. They were covered in dust and blood.
Ye Kai looked at the flying ship. "Master, we have a noise complaint."
Su Ling tapped her glasses. [Scan Complete.] [Target: Lei Ming.] [Net Worth: High.] [Ship Value: astronomical.]
"He wants to evict us," Su Ling said flatly.
Lei Ming looked at the three disciples. He scoffed. "A giant brute, a girl, and a blind cripple? Is this the best the South has to offer?" He snapped his fingers. "Guards. Clear the trash. Take the realm."
The two Nascent Soul guards on the ship leaped down. "Kneel before the Thunder Pavilion!" they roared, summoning lightning spears.
The Hand of the Patriarch
Before the guards could land. Before Ye Kai could punch. Before Wei Wu could draw his sword.
A voice echoed from deep inside the Divine Dragon Realm. It was calm. Lazy. And utterly indifferent.
"Old Sky."
The voice wasn't loud, but it drowned out the thunder. It drowned out the wind. Jiang Chen's voice.
"Who let a mosquito in?"
HUMMM.
A single beam of white light shot out from the depths of the realm. It wasn't an attack. It looked like a fishing line made of Qi. It moved faster than teleportation.
It wrapped around the massive Star-Steel Ship. "Get down here," Jiang Chen's voice commanded.
YANK.
The fishing line tightened. The massive warship, which weighed thousands of tons, was yanked out of the sky like a toy. "WHAT?!" Lei Ming screamed. "My Ship!"
CRASH. The ship was slammed into the valley floor, right next to the line of tribute chests. The impact shattered the ship's hull and threw Lei Ming and his guards face-first into the dirt.
The dust cleared. Standing at the gate, holding a fishing rod, was Jiang Chen. He looked bored.
He looked at the wrecked ship. "You scratched my pavement," Jiang Chen said, looking at Lei Ming.
Lei Ming coughed blood, trying to stand up. "Do you know who I am?! I am from the Central Continent! My master is a Spirit Severing Expe—"
Jiang Chen interrupted him. "Su Ling."
"Yes, Master?"
"Calculate the cost of the pavement repairs. Add a fine for illegal parking. And add a fee for noise pollution."
Jiang Chen looked at the terrified "Young Master" from the Central Continent. "Welcome to the Divine Dragon Sect," Jiang Chen smiled, but his eyes were cold. "The entrance fee is everything you own."