At the absolute zenith of the Eternal Sun Mountain stood the Hall of Supreme Radiance. It was a structure built to mock the sun itself, with pillars of solid spirit gold and floors paved with white jade. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of divine incense—a fragrance worth a thousand gold coins per stick—and a blinding golden light radiated from every corner, a desperate, almost insecure attempt to showcase just how "holy" and untouchable this sanctuary was.
"We must immediately dispatch high-ranking envoys to the Nine Heavens!" The voice of a middle-aged man clad in magnificent Sun-Dragon Robes boomed across the vast hall. He was Sect Master Yang, the supreme ruler of this domain, a man whose mere sneeze could usually determine the fate of kingdoms. But today, he was sweating.
"Dragon Abyss City was annihilated in the blink of an eye. Not a single soul remains. The defensive formations were not just broken; they were erased!" Sect Master Yang paced back and forth, his aura unstable. "This is not merely a disaster; it is an open declaration of war against the order of this world!"
"But, Sect Master... who could possibly possess such cataclysmic power?" a pale-faced Elder asked, his voice trembling so much his beard shook. "The Dragon Abyss barrier was Earth-grade..."
"Who else but that monster? Only He has the audacity, the madness to—"
"To do what?"
A calm, velvety voice sliced through their frantic conversation. It wasn't loud. In fact, it was spoken almost in a whisper. Yet, it possessed a weight so crushing that it instantly froze the flow of Qi within the meridians of every powerhouse in the hall.
The Elders snapped their heads toward the source of the sound—the high platform at the end of the hall. Their eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
There, perched upon the Throne of the Eternal Sun—a seat that only the Sect Master was permitted to occupy by divine law—sat a youth with hair as black as the primordial void.
He leaned back with absolute nonchalance, one leg crossed over the other, looking as comfortable as if he were lounging in his own bedroom. In his hand, he casually twirled a small, ornate golden cup that radiated a timeless, ancient aura.
It was the Eternal Chalice—the sect's most sacred, most guarded relic, rumored to contain the blessing of immortality.
"H-HAO TIAN?!" Sect Master Yang's knees buckled. He shook violently, his cultivation base nearly collapsing from shock. He hadn't even sensed when the youth had entered. There had been no warning. No sound of shattering doors. No alarm from the sect's god-tier protective formations. It was as if this man had simply manifested out of thin air.
"Ah, so this is the so-called Eternal Chalice?" Hao Tian ignored their shock completely. He brought the cup to his eye level, blowing a speck of imaginary dust off the rim. "The design is a bit tacky, isn't it? Too much gold, too little substance. But I suppose for now, it's barely worthy enough to hold my tea."
"IMPUDENT DEVIL! DESCEND FROM THAT THRONE AT ONCE!"
A hot-tempered Elder, unable to process the fear, let his rage take over. He lunged forward, his hand forming a flaming claw capable of melting mystical steel. "Die!!"
Hao Tian didn't even spare him a glance. He didn't lift a hand. He merely flicked his index finger against the side of the golden cup.
TING!
A crisp, clear sound rang out—like a bell chiming in a silent valley.
A thin, invisible ripple of sound traveled through the air. A split second later, the lunging Elder froze mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. His eyes widened in realization, but it was too late.
BOOM!
There was no scream. The Elder simply detonated. He exploded into a fine mist of blood and bone shards directly in front of Sect Master Yang. Fresh, warm blood splattered across the leader's golden robes, staining the "purity" he so proudly cherished with the crimson paint of death.
"So noisy," Hao Tian said softly, finally looking down at the trembling figures below. "I hate noise when I'm thirsty."
He locked eyes with Sect Master Yang, who had collapsed onto the floor, paralyzed by the sheer gap in power.
"Hey, Sect Master... you are the host here, aren't you? Why hasn't the tea been served?" Hao Tian smiled—a thin, predatory curve of his lips that made the aura of death in the hall grow suffocatingly dense. "Do I need to kill ten more Elders before you remember your manners?"
"Y-you... what do you want from us?!" Sect Master Yang asked hoarsely. His spirit was crushed. The man before him wasn't a cultivator; he was a calamity in human skin.
"I told you, I'm just thirsty," Hao Tian replied, his tone bored. "Now, bring me your finest tea. Brew it with the water from that sacred Heavenly Dew spring you keep hidden in the back mountain. And pour it into this chalice... with your own hands."
Hao Tian casually tossed the Eternal Chalice toward Sect Master Yang.
Clang.
The sacred relic skittered across the marble floor, stopping right at the knees of the "grand" Sect Leader.
"If even a single drop spills..." Hao Tian tilted his head, his eyes flashing a deep, malevolent red. "...I will ensure every single disciple on this mountain becomes fertilizer for the blood lotuses in my Thousand Realm. Understood?"
Sect Master Yang—a man worshipped by thousands, a man who dined with Emperors—began to crawl.
His golden robes dragged across the cold floor, mopping up the blood of his fallen comrade. His hands, which had once split mountains, trembled uncontrollably as he reached for the chalice. Tears of humiliation welled in his eyes.
"Don't shake so much, Yang. The tea will taste bitter if you marinate it in your fear," Hao Tian taunted from the throne, kicking a sacred scroll off the platform. "Hurry up. I don't have all day to watch you crawl like a snail."
Sect Master Yang forced himself to stand on wobble legs. He moved to the side altar, summoning the Spirit Sun Flame to boil the water.
"Everyone... leave..." Sect Master Yang whispered to the remaining Elders and disciples, trying to save them from witnessing his shame.
"Eh? Why send them away?" Hao Tian cut in, his voice mocking. "Let them stay. I enjoy having an audience when I drink. It feels like a theater performance, don't you think? Except all the actors are waiting for their turn to die. Isn't that poetic?"
Sect Master Yang bit his lip until it bled. He said nothing. He focused on the tea.
After minutes that felt like eons, the tea was ready. The aroma of the Nine-Cloud Spirit Tea filled the hall, a scent so pure it could clear one's mind instantly. But in this hall, it smelled like a funeral offering.
Sect Master Yang approached the throne, holding the chalice with both hands raised high above his head—the posture of a servant offering tribute to a God.
"This... is the Nine-Cloud Spirit Tea... p-please, Lord Hao Tian."
Hao Tian took the cup. He inhaled the aroma, closed his eyes for a second, and took a small sip. The entire hall held its breath.
"Hmm..." Hao Tian swirled the liquid. "Passable. But the water isn't hot enough. It seems your flame was weak because you were too busy crying."
Hao Tian looked at Sect Master Yang with a gentle smile.
"Here, let me return it."
SPLASH!
Without warning, Hao Tian threw the remaining scalding tea directly into Sect Master Yang's face.
"ARGHHHH!"
The Sect Master shrieked. It wasn't just hot water. Hao Tian had infused his chaotic Qi into the liquid. The tea acted like highly corrosive acid. Smoke rose from Sect Master Yang's face as his skin began to blister and melt abnormally.
"Oops. My hand slipped," Hao Tian laughed, a sound devoid of any guilt. He dropped the empty chalice onto the floor. "But no matter. Consider that a blessing from me. A facial treatment to match your ugly soul."
Hao Tian stood up from the throne. He walked past the writhing Sect Master and approached the massive window overlooking the sky. Above, the swirling vortex of black clouds still churned, signaling that the Heavens were watching his every move.
"Hey, Shangdi! Do you see this?!" Hao Tian shouted at the sky, his voice amplified by his Qi, thundering through the dimensional barriers. "Your subordinate here makes terrible tea! Is this the standard of the Heavens these days? How cheap! How pathetic!"
RUMBLE!
Thunder cracked directly outside the window, a roar of divine fury.
"Don't just make noise up there, Old Fossil! Come down!" Hao Tian clenched his fist.
BOOM!
A pillar of pitch-black energy erupted from his body, blasting upwards. It shattered the roof of the Hall of Supreme Radiance, turning the majestic golden ceiling into dust. The sky was revealed—dark, angry, and swirling with lightning.
Hao Tian turned his back on the storm, facing the terrified disciples one last time.
"Listen well, you ants. Today, I leave your sect standing. Not out of mercy, but because I want you to witness how the 'God' you worship trembles in fear when I speak his name."
He paused beside the groaning Sect Master Yang.
"That chalice... keep it safe for now. I will return to collect it when I desire to drink the blood of your Emperors. Make sure that when that time comes, you have washed it clean with the tears of all your followers."
With a snap of his fingers, reality warped. Hao Tian's figure dissolved into shadows, leaving behind a void so cold that the Spirit Sun fires in the hall were instantly extinguished.
The Eternal Sun Sect, once the symbol of hope and light, was left in ruins, darkness, and absolute despair. They knew then that the next thirty days would not be a trial for Hao Tian... it would be an execution for the world.
Far away, on a different peak, Hao Tian reappeared as the sun began to set, painting the horizon in blood-red hues.
"One sect is enough for a warm-up," he muttered, dusting off his sleeves. A cruel glint returned to his eyes. "Tomorrow... perhaps I should pay a visit to the Azure Empire. I hear the Empress possesses a collection of Heavenly Silk that is rumored to be indestructible."
He chuckled, the sound carrying on the wind.
"What a waste. Such fine silk shouldn't be used to cover the bodies of mortals. It would look much better as a carpet for my feet."