Centennial Period

For the next few days, Yi Feng drowned his sorrows in alcohol.

One evening, he drank with a few companions, his face etched with melancholy and helplessness.

Lost in thought, he casually probed them with a question.

“Tell me, are there any terrifyingly powerful experts on Black Island?”

The moment his soft words fell,

the drunken men exchanged furtive glances before bowing and responding with flattery.

“None, absolutely none!”

“You jest, sir…”

“Though I hail from an outer island, having come here myself, I can say Black Island is nothing special. Who could possibly be called an expert in your presence, sir?”

“In this humble one’s opinion, as you’ve said, you could crush the entire island with a flick of your hand!”

“Exactly, exactly!”

Sa Donglai and the others flushed red with fervor, their eyes brimming with reverence.

These old foxes were eager to seize any chance to curry favor with Yi Feng. Faced with such an obvious question, how could they dare say otherwise?

Yi Feng was momentarily stunned, finding the situation both amusing and exasperating.

Indeed.

Given the level of power he had displayed, it was no surprise they wouldn’t dare claim there were other experts around him.

Truth be told, even he didn’t know just how strong he was.

While immense power wasn’t a bad thing—giving him an extra layer of protection—he should have been thrilled. But with such strength, where could he possibly go to find death?

Unconsciously, the men’s drunken snores soon filled the air.

“Haa… haa…”

Yi Feng shook his head with a wry smile.

Rising, he stood alone by the carved railings, lost in contemplation.

From now on,

he needed to thoroughly study just what tier his strength belonged to.

Only by understanding his own level could he accurately seek out worthy opponents. Otherwise, he’d just be wasting time, at best bullying a few weaklings.

Only by facing truly terrifying beings could he gauge his own cultivation level—and perhaps even succeed in finding death, completing this cursed system mission…

But where could such beings be found?

Gazing at the sprawling, opulent palaces in the distance, Yi Feng was overcome with melancholy. The bittersweet frustration of an invincible expert weighed heavily on his heart, lingering like an unshakable shadow.

Before long,

soft footsteps approached.

Yi Feng turned his head.

Lu Xinlan had ascended the pavilion, her graceful figure drawing near.

Her simple yet elegant dress carried a noble air, subtly accentuating her status without being ostentatious. She already exuded the bearing of a true leader.

Before he could speak, she stepped forward with a respectful bow and a warm smile.

“Forgive my intrusion, sir.”

“Having just succeeded as the Tower Master, I’ve been swamped with affairs. If I’ve neglected you, I hope you’ll pardon me.”

Her words and demeanor remained as courteous as ever.

Despite her elevated status, their friendship remained unchanged—a rare and precious bond.

Seeing her sincerity, Yi Feng smiled warmly and clasped his hands in return.

“No need for apologies.”

But upon closer inspection,

he noticed a faint worry between her brows, and her smile lacked its usual ease.

“Lady Xinlan,”

“You seem troubled. Is something on your mind?” Yi Feng couldn’t help but ask.

Lu Xinlan paused, then let out a bitter chuckle.

“Your insight is peerless, sir. I can hide nothing from you.”

She continued solemnly, “I do carry a heavy concern, all due to a grave matter that just arose. My composure faltered—please forgive me.”

A grave matter?

Yi Feng’s eyes flickered with surprise.

“You’re the Tower Master of Ten Thousand Treasures now. What could possibly unsettle you so?”

Lu Xinlan leaned in slightly, her voice hushed.

“Sir, you may not know this…”

“Though I’ve ascended to this position with your aid, not everything is within my control.”

“The East Sea may seem like a refuge, harboring many wandering cultivators, but its power is illusory. We survive only by clinging to the sea’s factions—living under another’s roof.”

“The true rulers of the East Sea are the Heavenly Dragon Merfolk of the Misty Abyss. They have dwelled here for generations, ruling over this domain. Black Island and the other seventy-two islands are all their vassal territories.”

“Every century, we must pay them a tribute.”

The infamous islands of the East Sea… mere tenants?

Yi Feng was mildly astonished.

“So that’s how it is…”

“This ‘tribute’ must be extraordinary, for even you to be so troubled.”

Lu Xinlan nodded with admiration.

“Your wisdom is unmatched, sir.”

“Indeed, the cost is steep. But we islanders are not mere tenants—we are subjects under the Heavenly Dragon Merfolk’s rule. What we offer is not wealth… but sacrifices.”

“Every hundred years, the major factions must present a peerless genius—one of exceptional talent and beauty. Black Island then hosts the Celestial Sea Sacrifice, offering this female cultivator as tribute to the Merfolk.”

What the—

He’d assumed it was about money, but they were demanding people?

And not just anyone—a supreme genius every century? As if such talents grew on trees! This was outright colonial exploitation, skimming the cream of the crop!

Even capitalists would weep at this!

Yi Feng’s eyes widened in shock.

“These Merfolk… they eat people?!”

Lu Xinlan sighed, her expression grim.

“Ah…”

“You misunderstand, sir.”

“The Heavenly Dragon Merfolk demand these geniuses not for consumption, but as playthings—enslaved and subjected to endless torment. Death would be a mercy compared to their fate.”

They specifically targeted elite cultivators as slaves?

What kind of twisted superiority complex was this? Damn feudal overlords!

Yi Feng’s shock deepened.

Seeing Lu Xinlan’s suppressed anguish, a terrible suspicion arose.

“Don’t tell me…”

“The chosen sacrifice this time… is you?”