A faint, cruel smile played on Ling Feng's lips. To the onlookers, he looked like a young noble lounging at a teahouse, not a man surrounded by wolves.
He held the ancient tile between his fingers, flipping it back and forth with a rhythmic clack-clack that grated on the nerves of the elders present.
"You all were very eager just now," Ling Feng said, his voice dropping an octave, smooth yet laced with danger. "Since you're already here, don't rush to leave. The party's just starting."
He held the tile up to the sunlight. The ancient artifact hummed, emitting ripples of Dao rhythm that distorted the space around his hand. It was a key, a treasure that could drive the Nine Worlds into a frenzy.
"This little thing," he mused, spinning it on his thumb like a coin. "In my hands, it's a gateway to infinite possibilities. Secret scriptures, Immortal Emperor pathways, things your little brains can't even process. If I wanted, I could use this to raise a hundred Immortal Emperor seeds, factory-line style."
He flicked his wrist. The tile spun into the air, tracing a perfect arc of golden light before landing obediently back in his palm with a heavy thud.
Ling Feng looked at the crowd, his eyes bored. "But in your hands? It's just a paperweight. Trash."
The silence shattered. The insult was a physical slap to the face of every Saint Child and Royal Noble present.
"You speak with a sharp tongue for a dead man!" a cultivator growled from the crowd. "If you fear losing the treasure, just say so. Why humiliate the heroes of the world?"
The crowd parted as a figure surged forward, radiating a golden aura. It was Saint Child Qishan.
His handsome face was currently a mask of twisted rage. He had already suffered a loss of face earlier, and now, seeing Ling Feng posturing so arrogantly—with the goddess Chen Baojiao standing obediently at his side—his jealousy had fermented into killing intent.
"Ling Feng," Qishan said, his voice vibrating with the power of his Dao voice. "You killed Young King Nantian. You humiliated the Heavenly God Sect. Do you truly believe the heavens are blind? There is a price for arrogance."
Ling Feng blinked, looking Qishan up and down with genuine confusion.
"Oh? You're still breathing?" Ling Feng chuckled, scratching his ear. "My bad. I honestly forgot you existed. You NPCs all look the same after a while."
Saint Child Qishan didn't understand the term "NPC," but the dismissive tone was universal. Blood rushed to his face, his aura flaring until the stones beneath his feet cracked.
Around him, the dam broke. Envoys from the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom, disciples from Mysterious Bamboo Mountain, and various "Young Kings" who had been suppressed by Li Qiye in other timelines stepped forward. Their greed for the tile and their hatred for Ling Feng's attitude united them.
"Everyone has seen it!" one genius shouted, pointing a trembling finger. "He calls us trash? Let's see if his bones are as hard as his mouth!"
"He relied on external items at the Burial Ground! Without those tricks, he is nothing but a junior from the declining Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect!"
"Declining?"
The temperature on the street plummeted instantly.
Chen Baojiao stepped forward. Her beauty was usually enough to topple cities, but now, her expression was glacial. The supreme Tyrannical Valley Immortal Spring Physique hummed beneath her skin, creating a heavy, distorted field of gravity around her.
"He revived that 'declining sect' with his own two hands," Baojiao said, her voice cutting through the noise like a saber. "While you lot were busy lighting incense and crying to your ancestors' tablets for protection, he was forging a path. You are not qualified to speak his name."
"Baojiao," Ling Feng interrupted softly.
He didn't shout, but his voice instantly commanded her attention. The ice in her eyes melted the moment she looked at him.
"Don't dirty your mouth with them, my dear," Ling Feng said, giving her a reassuring wink. "They're just excited. Let them cling to their last bit of dignity before reality hits."
He shifted his gaze to the three women standing behind him.
"Shuangyan, Baojiao, Xu Pei."
The three straightened, their auras resonating in harmony.
Ling Feng's smile softened, becoming that genuine, warm expression reserved only for his people.
"Clear out the trash. The noise is ruining the vibe."
Five simple words. A death sentence.
Every genius present felt a chill crawl up their spine, but pride kept them rooted.
Li Shuangyan moved first.
She did not draw a weapon. As the bearer of the Pure Jade Physique, her body was the ultimate weapon. Enhanced by the Chaos Force, her physique didn't just channel energy; it became a superconductor for the Grand Dao.
Dao lines, tempered by the alien energy of the Chaos Emeralds, lit up within her Fate Palaces. Her cultivation, now standing firmly at the early Ancient Saint level, erupted without warning.
"Saint Child Qishan," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "I will take your life in the Young Noble's stead."
Saint Child Qishan sneered, summoning a massive golden shield. "Li Shuangyan, do you think being a consort makes you untouchable? I am the Saint Child! When I—"
He never finished the sentence.
Li Shuangyan didn't use a grand technique. She simply stepped forward and kicked.
It was a motion of terrifying simplicity. Her leg became a blur of jade light, compressing the weight of a mountain range into a single point of impact.
BOOM!
The laws of physics screamed. The air in front of her kick compressed so violently it liquefied.
The golden shield shattered like cheap glass. Saint Child Qishan's treasured armor wailed—a sound like tearing metal—before disintegrating. The kick connected with his chest.
There was no resistance. The Chaos-enhanced Pure Jade Physique ignored the concept of defense.
Qishan didn't even have time to regret his words. His chest cavity collapsed, his bones turned to powder, and his body was blasted backward with such force that he painted the street in a gruesome streak of crimson mist.
One kick. One Saint Child dead.
Silence descended, heavy and terrified.
Across the street, a Royal Noble from the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom roared to break the fear, charging toward Chen Baojiao with an imperial spear. "Die, witch!"
Baojiao's lips peeled back in a feral, beautiful grin.
"Come!"
Her Immortal Springs erupted. Unlike the pure solidity of Shuangyan, Baojiao was a vortex.
When the Royal Noble's spear—carrying the force to pierce a mountain—slammed into her, it didn't pierce. It sank. It felt like striking a bottomless ocean.
The kinetic energy of the attack was instantly absorbed by her physique, cycled through her Chaos Springs, multiplied, and then reversed.
"Return to sender!" Baojiao laughed.
She slammed her palm forward.
A dragon-shaped blast of raw, chaotic vitality surged out. It wasn't just force; it was a physical rejection of the enemy's existence. The Royal Noble's spear shattered, splinters flying like shrapnel. The backlash hit him an instant later, turning his internal organs to mush.
Baojiao grabbed his limp body by the ankle and swung him like a flail, smashing him into a group of approaching disciples.
"Too weak! Is this the best the Great Powers have to offer?"
On the flank, Xu Pei moved with the grace of a storm.
She was no longer the timid disciple. Under Ling Feng's guidance, her Violent Cloud Chant had been revolutionized. Thunderclouds, dark and heavy with Chaos lightning, swirled around her.
A group of younger geniuses, thinking her the "soft target," tried to surround her.
Xu Pei bowed slightly, her demeanor polite, almost apologetic.
"Excuse me," she whispered.
She raised a delicate hand and clenched it.
"Break."
The clouds descended instantly. It wasn't a chaotic explosion, but a precision grinder. A cylinder of wind, rain, and lightning enclosed the group. Inside, wind blades invisible to the naked eye spun at supersonic speeds.
The screams lasted less than a second before being drowned out by the thunder. When the clouds lifted, only shredded robes and blood remained.
The Elders watching from the rooftops could no longer sit still.
"This junior is too vicious!" one Elder screamed, his beard trembling. "If we let them live, they will become a scourge! Kill them!"
Several Enlightened Beings and older experts unleashed their Life Wheels, their blood energy flooding the sky as they prepared to crush the three women with superior cultivation age.
It was then that Bai Jianzhen moved.
She had been a statue until this moment, watching the slaughter with a complex gaze. But seeing the older generation shamelessly intervene, her eyes sharpened.
She stepped forward. Her sword left its sheath.
There was no name for the technique. No shout. No flash of light.
Just a sudden, absolute silence.
A single line of sword intent manifested behind the attacking Elders.
The Elders froze mid-air. Their defensive treasures, their protective Dao laws, their toughened bodies—all were rendered meaningless.
A heartbeat later, a thin red line appeared on their necks.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heads separated from bodies, sliding off with terrifying smoothness. Blood sprayed into the air like blooming plum blossoms.
Bai Jianzhen flicked her blade, shaking off the blood, and sheathed it without looking back.
"You attacked his women while he did not move," she stated, her voice flat. "Unworthy of the title 'Senior'."
The street was now a slaughterhouse. Four women—a jade goddess, a tyrannical storm, a lightning controller, and a sword fanatic—stood amidst the carnage, untouched.
Ling Feng watched it all, clapping slowly.
"Not bad," he murmured, nodding approvingly. "The team synergy is leveling up. That combo was clean."
He raised his voice slightly. "Alright, ladies. Pause game. That's enough warm-up. Leave some dog lives for later; it gets boring if they all die too fast."
The three women and Bai Jianzhen immediately returned to his side. Li Shuangyan's jade light receded, though her eyes remained vigilant. Baojiao looked exhilarated, wiping a speck of blood from her cheek.
"Ling Feng!"
A roar, filled with humiliation and ancient anger, crashed down the street.
Leng Chengfeng strode forward. His handsome face was contorted, his eyes burning with a poisonous mix of jealousy and hatred. Behind him walked Lei She—the Supreme Elder of the Nine Saint Demon Gate.
Lei She's presence was terrifying. He was an Ancient Saint. In this era, where the Dao was difficult, an Ancient Saint was a giant, a being capable of suppressing nations with a thought. The air around him grew heavy, gravity bending to his will.
"Junior," Lei She said, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "Even if the younger generation fights, was it necessary to be so ruthless? Are you trying to declare war on the entire world?"
But Leng Chengfeng didn't care about the politics. His eyes were fixed solely on Li Shuangyan.
"Shuangyan," he rasped, his voice trembling. "You… have you truly fallen so low? Standing with this… this demon? Slaughtering fellow Daoists for a mere tile?"
Li Shuangyan looked at him. Her gaze was indifferent, as if looking at a stranger.
"My path is my own," she said calmly. "Leng Chengfeng, you have no right to question who I follow."
Leng Chengfeng's face twisted. The rejection, public and cold, shattered his pride.
"If you had chosen me back then," he spat, pointing at Ling Feng, "the Nine Saint Demon Gate would have united! We would be unstoppable! Instead, you follow a mad dog and drag our sect's reputation through the mud!"
Ling Feng finally turned to look at Leng Chengfeng. He sighed, shaking his head with exaggerated pity.
"Man, you just radiate 'Loser Energy,' don't you?" Ling Feng said, his tone casual but piercing.
"What…?" Leng Chengfeng froze.
"I'm talking about you, Simp King," Ling Feng continued, leaning back. "You talk a lot for someone who hasn't done anything but whine. Are you here to fight, or are you here to read your diary entries? If you want to fight, throw hands. If not, then—how do the kids say it—fuck off."
Gasps erupted from the surviving onlookers. Profanity wasn't rare in the cultivation world; such blatant disrespect was unheard of.
Leng Chengfeng trembled, veins bulging on his forehead. "You—!"
Lei She stepped forward, his aura flaring. "Mind your tongue, junior—"
Ling Feng waved a hand dismissively, not even looking at the Ancient Saint. "Relax, old man. Take a number. I'll get to you in a minute. No cutting in line."
He focused back on Leng Chengfeng, his eyes suddenly sharp, stripping away the man's secrets.
"You got your hands on something spicy from the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom, didn't you?" Ling Feng grinned, showing teeth. "The Nine Sun Locking Heaven Law. Top five offensive technique in the world. Pretty impressive."
Leng Chengfeng's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He hadn't told a soul.
"How do you know—"
"Because you're predictable," Ling Feng interrupted, yawning. "Old crush issues, massive jealousy, zero self-awareness, and a burning desire to prove you're the 'Main Character.' Someone waves a shiny, broken Imperial manual in front of you, and you grab it, hoping it'll make you strong enough to steal the girl back. Classic desperate behavior."
"Presumptuous!" Lei She bellowed. "The Nine Sun Locking Heaven Law is the supreme art!"
"It's an incomplete beta version," Ling Feng corrected lazily. "You know it. I know it. The Heavens know it. Azure Mysterious Kingdom played you. They gave you a version that burns your life force instead of the sun's energy."
He beckoned with his finger.
"But hey, I'm feeling generous today. Go ahead. Activate it. Let's see how much of the original flavor is left. Once you've nearly killed yourself using it, I'll… recycle the good parts. Consider it environmental protection."
"Enough!" Leng Chengfeng roared, his sanity snapping.
"OM—!"
The space behind Leng Chengfeng ignited.
A blazing sun rose, then a second, a third… Nine massive, searing suns burst into existence behind him. The temperature in the city skyrocketed instantly, stone turning to magma beneath his feet.
This was the Nine Sun Locking Heaven Law. By borrowing the True Fire of the Sun, one could suppress the heavens themselves.
"See?!" Leng Chengfeng shouted, half-mad, his skin glowing red like hot iron. "Even if it is incomplete, it is invincible! Die, Ling Feng!"
The nine suns aligned, channeling a torrent of apocalyptic fire into Leng Chengfeng's body. His power soared, breaking through the barriers of his realm.
But then, the glitch happened.
The True Fire pouring down from the sky didn't stop.
The manual was flawed. The safety valves were missing. Leng Chengfeng's body swelled, his meridians screaming as the solar energy began to cook him from the inside out. Cracks of molten light appeared on his face.
"Senior Lei…!" he gasped, smoke pouring from his mouth.
"Leng!" Lei She panicked, rushing forward to suppress the fire with his own cultivation.
In that chaotic moment, Ling Feng moved.
He didn't charge. He simply lifted his right hand and pointed a single finger toward the nine suns.
The Chaos Force within him—green, alien, and absolute—surged upward like an invisible data stream. It bypassed the laws of the Emperor's Domination universe entirely.
The nine suns flickered. Deep within the inferno, a specific set of Dao Runes glowed—the "Lock" of the technique.
Ling Feng's Chaos Force latched onto that lock.
"Mine now."
He pulled his finger back.
With a sickening tear, the core structure of the Nine Sun Locking Heaven Law was ripped out of Leng Chengfeng's control. It shot down from the sky like a green comet, condensing into a swirling pattern of light that vanished into Ling Feng's Fate Palaces.
Without the core, the technique collapsed.
Leng Chengfeng shrieked as the remaining uncontrolled fire ravaged his body. He fell to his knees, a ruined husk, his foundation shattered.
Ling Feng walked over, his steps casual. He placed a foot on Leng Chengfeng's chest.
Crunch.
The ribs collapsed. Ling Feng looked down, his expression devoid of pity.
"Look at you," Ling Feng said. "You were about to combust. I actually saved you from turning into ash. I'm basically a saint."
Leng Chengfeng's eyes were dimming, fixed on the white hem of Li Shuangyan's dress nearby.
"…Shuang… yan…"
He breathed his last, dying with her name on his lips, a tragic victim of his own obsession.
Li Shuangyan watched him die. She didn't blink.
"Young Master Leng," she said quietly. "In the end, you still couldn't see the vastness of the sky."
"BEAST!"
The roar shook the entire city. Lei She had lost his mind with rage. His prime disciple, dead. The sect's reputation, destroyed.
"You dare kill the future of the Nine Saint Demon Gate?!"
Lei She unleashed everything. The aura of an Ancient Saint erupted like a volcano. Black clouds churned, blotting out the sun. A massive spectral palm, large enough to crush the entire city block, descended. It carried the weight of ten thousand thunderclaps and the suppression of the high Dao.
To the onlookers, this was the end of the world. An Ancient Saint's wrath was inescapable.
Ling Feng looked up at the falling sky, his hands in his pockets.
"Old man," he said, his voice cutting through the thunder effortlessly. "If you wanted to leave this city alive, you shouldn't have raised your hand against me."
Ling Feng removed his right hand from his pocket. He didn't use a flashy technique. He didn't summon a treasure.
He just slapped upward.
It looked ridiculous—a human hand slapping against a spectral giant's palm.
But Ling Feng wasn't using Spirit Energy. He was using Chaos Force—specifically, the Red Chaos Emerald trait: Absolute Force.
When Ling Feng's palm met Lei She's attack, there was no explosion.
There was only a shattering.
The Ancient Saint's spectral palm disintegrated instantly, turning into harmless sparks. But the force of Ling Feng's slap didn't stop there. It traveled up, through the air, ignoring distance and resistance, and slammed directly into Lei She's physical body.
Lei She's eyes went wide.
"How… can a junior…"
He felt a power he couldn't comprehend. It wasn't Dao. It wasn't cultivation. It was raw, unadulterated Force that rejected his very existence.
CRACK.
From the molecular level up, Lei She's body splintered. Like a porcelain vase hit by a sledgehammer, the Ancient Saint cracked into thousands of pieces.
He didn't bleed. He didn't scream. He simply… ceased to be. The Chaos Force erased him, scattering his dust into the wind.
The storm clouds vanished. The sun returned.
The street was utterly, absolutely silent. Not even the wind dared to blow.
Ling Feng shook his hand out, as if he had just slapped a mosquito.
"Ancient Saint and you're only this strong?," he muttered.
He turned his palms upward. A miniature sun, bound by green chains of Chaos energy, hovered there—the core of the Nine Sun Locking Heaven Law.
"Top five offensive technique," he mused, tossing it up and catching it. "Not bad. I'll make this even better and give it to one of you girls. Azure Mysterious Kingdom can keep crappy version for all I care."
He clenched his fist, absorbing the technique.
Only then did he turn back to his group, flashing a dazzling, charming smile that looked entirely out of place on a man who had just erased an Ancient Saint.