A Palm Strike Sends the Holy Land's Clouds Crashing Down

In front of the capital gates, the atmosphere instantly shifted from a joyous celebration of the masses to the freezing depths of winter.

Eighteen pillars of light from the Sacred Lands hung in the sky, their brilliance cascading down like eighteen heaven-supporting pillars, crushing the entire capital beneath their shadows. Those eighteen peak Sky-Soaring Realm envoys wore indifferent expressions, each bearing the crest of a Sacred Land on their robes.

One with a floating great sun came from the Great Sun Sacred Land.

One with sword qi swirling around their body came from the Supreme Profound Sword Palace.

One stepping on a green lotus came from the Green Lotus Sacred Land.

One with a flame burning between their brows came from the Heaven-Burning Valley.

One carrying a star compass on their back came from the Star River Sacred Land.

And one wearing ancient bronze armor, with vitality surging like a dragon, came from the Undying Mountain.

The eighteen Great Sacred Lands of the Central Province had unexpectedly all arrived at the capital of the Eastern Wasteland today.

This was no visit.

This was a demonstration of power.

The expressions of the civil and military officials were ugly.

They had just welcomed back their Emperor, who had destroyed the Nightmares, pacified the Western Regions, and suppressed the Heavenly Secret Pavilion. This should have been the proudest day for the Great Zhou Dynasty. Yet, this group of people chose this exact moment to descend, trampling on the momentum of Great Zhou's triumphant return and suppressing the jubilation of the nation's destiny.

This was even more disgusting than a slap in the face.

A slap in the face was at least direct.

They were shoving their feet into your face and asking why you weren't kneeling to wipe them clean.

Wang Hao looked at the sky, his eyes growing colder by the second.

A white-robed Quasi-Martial God stood with his hands behind his back and said indifferently, "I am Xuanxiao, the Holy Envoy of Kunlun, here by the decree of the eighteen Sacred Lands. The once-in-a-decade Kunlun Assembly will begin in three months. The Eastern Wasteland's participation quotas have always been managed by the Great Zhou royal family, and this iteration is no exception."

Saying this, he waved his sleeve.

A golden scroll descended from the sky, floating thirty feet in front of Wang Hao.

The scroll did not touch the ground.

Because it was waiting for Wang Hao to reach out and take it.

More accurately, it was waiting for Wang Hao to bow his head and receive it.

Xuanxiao continued, "Wang Hao, receive the Kunlun Decree."

The capital fell into a dead silence.

The Duke of Ying clenched his fists.

Xiao Chen's brows furrowed sharply.

Ye Guyun gripped the hilt of his sword.

Wanyan Gu had already started looking around for his spiked club, muttering, "How is this guy even better at acting arrogant than me?"

Old Master Ren's eyelids twitched wildly as he whispered, "Do not be impulsive. The Sacred Lands of the Central Province are different from the sects of the Eastern Wasteland. All eighteen Sacred Lands have old Martial God monsters presiding over them. Their legacies are ancient, and their foundations are unfathomably deep. Although this Xuanxiao is only a Quasi-Martial God, he has the entire order of the Central Province standing behind him."

Wang Hao said nothing.

Xuanxiao, however, acted as if he didn't see the expressions of the Great Zhou crowd. Looking down, he continued, "I am aware that Great Zhou has recently pacified the Western Regions, eradicated the Nightmares, and destroyed the Heavenly Secret Pavilion, causing its destiny to surge. For such a situation to arise in a barren land like the Eastern Wasteland is indeed rare."

At first glance, these words sounded like praise.

But the phrase barren land fell upon everyone's ears like a sharp thorn.

Xuanxiao said indifferently, "However, the Kunlun Assembly is not like the petty squabbles of the Eastern Wasteland. At that time, the chosen geniuses from the five regions of the Central Province, Southern Ridge, Northern Plains, Western Desert, and Eastern Wasteland will gather. The various Sacred Lands will discuss the Dao, and the decrees of Martial Gods will descend upon the world. You must remember your boundaries and not forget the vastness of heaven and earth just because of a momentary victory."

Wang Hao suddenly smiled.

When he smiled, Wei Zhongxian's heart skipped a beat.

It's over.

Xuanxiao had not yet realized the severity of the situation and continued, "According to past precedents, for this iteration, the Eastern Wasteland must hand over a seventy percent share of newly opened spirit mines, three hundred spirit herbs of the seventh grade or higher, and three eighth-realm anomaly artifacts as an entry tribute for the Kunlun Assembly. Furthermore, since the Western Regions have just been pacified, the gateway leading to the Central Province in the Tianque Province must be temporarily managed by the Kunlun Law Enforcement Hall for ten years, to prevent any residual anomalies from spilling over."

As his voice fell.

The eyes of all the Great Zhou soldiers before the capital gates turned red.

Seventy percent of the spirit mines.

Three hundred high-grade spirit herbs.

Three eighth-realm anomaly artifacts.

And temporarily managing the Tianque Province for ten years?

How was this an invitation to an assembly?

This was a robbery.

Zhang Jing, Duke of Ying, was so furious that his beard trembled.

The Western Regions were conquered by the soldiers of Great Zhou with every slash of their blades and thrust of their spears. The Heaven-Severing Ridge was filled with the blood of Great Zhou. So many soldiers had lost their arms and legs, and so many ancestors had nearly been swallowed by the Nightmares until their souls scattered. Now, the great army had just returned to the capital, and the wounded hadn't even had time to remove their bandages, yet the Sacred Lands of the Central Province had sent people to reap the spoils.

And they were doing so with such self-righteous arrogance.

Seeing that Wang Hao did not receive the decree, Xuanxiao frowned slightly.

"Wang Hao, why are you not receiving it?"

His voice sank slightly.

The coercion of a Quasi-Martial God descended with it.

Boom!

The floor tiles in front of the capital gates cracked inch by inch. Many civil officials fell to their knees on the spot; it wasn't that they wanted to kneel, but their knees couldn't withstand the crushing pressure. The soldiers on the city walls groaned, their armor emitting sounds of being overwhelmed.

The eighteen peak Sky-Soaring envoys released their auras simultaneously.

At this moment, it felt as if half the sky had collapsed.

They didn't want to kill anyone.

They just wanted to remind the Eastern Wasteland why the Sacred Lands of the Central Province stood so high above them.

However, Wang Hao stood in place, completely unmoving.

His black dragon robe fluttered wildly. The black dragon of national destiny slowly raised its head from behind him, its dragon eyes icy cold as it stared at the nineteen people in the sky.

Wang Hao raised his hand and gently pressed down on the golden scroll floating in front of him.

Xuanxiao's expression softened slightly.

He thought Wang Hao had finally learned his place.

In the next moment, Wang Hao clenched his five fingers.

Crack.

The Kunlun Decree shattered.

It shattered crisply.

Golden fragments drifted down from between his fingers, and before they could even hit the ground, they were incinerated into nothingness by a wisp of white lightning.

Heaven and earth fell silent.

The expressions of the eighteen Sacred Land envoys changed simultaneously.

Xuanxiao's eyes finally turned cold.

"You dare to destroy the Kunlun Decree?"

Wang Hao shook his hand, as if what he had just crushed wasn't a decree from a Sacred Land, but an expired IOU.

"What did you just say?" Wang Hao asked.

Xuanxiao narrowed his eyes. "I said, you dare to destroy the Kunlun Decree?"

"No, the sentence before that."

"Wang Hao, do not bring ruin upon yourself."

"The sentence before that."

Xuanxiao's face darkened. "The Eastern Wasteland must pay the tribute, and the Tianque Province will be temporarily managed by the Kunlun Law Enforcement Hall..."

"Stop."

Wang Hao looked up, his smile gentle.

"That is exactly the problem."

He took a step forward.

As this step landed, the earth of the capital trembled violently.

"The Western Regions were conquered by Us."

Second step.

The black dragon of national destiny roared, and golden light shot into the sky.

"The Nightmares were slain by Us."

Third step.

White lightning lit up from deep within Wang Hao's pupils, and an extremely fine lightning pattern crawled up his fingertips.

"The Heavenly Secret Pavilion was destroyed by Us."

Fourth step.

His figure suddenly disappeared.

Xuanxiao's pupils contracted sharply.

Too fast.

It wasn't the speed of an ordinary Sky-Soaring Realm cultivator; rather, it was like a bolt of white lightning tearing through space. One moment Wang Hao was still in front of the capital gates, and the next, he had already appeared right in front of Xuanxiao.

Xuanxiao shouted furiously, "Insolent!"

The aura of a Quasi-Martial God fully erupted. A blurry dharma idol appeared behind him, resembling both a mountain and an ocean, crushing the clouds. He struck out with a palm, and within his palm lay the phantom of the Kunlun Snow Mountain, its chilling intent sealing the heavens.

However, Wang Hao was faster than him.

"Heaven-Imprisoning Earth-Overturning Palm."

"First Palm."

"Suppress the Mountains and Rivers."

Wang Hao raised his left hand. A golden palm print condensed, but a wisp of white lightning coiled around the center of his palm.

Xuanxiao sneered.

A mere Sky-Soaring Realm dares to clash head-on with a Quasi-Martial God?

But in the next instant, his smile froze on his face.

As Wang Hao's palm fell, it wasn't just pure true essence, but an overlapping combination of national destiny, white lightning, and a divine-tier martial skill. Before the palm print even reached him, the dharma idol behind Xuanxiao began to tremble violently, like a paper mountain encountering a flood.

Boom!

The two palms collided.

The phantom of the Kunlun Snow Mountain shattered on the spot.

Xuanxiao's entire right arm was torn open, its flesh mangled. White lightning drilled into his body along his meridians, acting like millions of red-hot fine needles frantically biting into his true essence.

He let out a muffled groan and his figure violently retreated hundreds of feet.

But Wang Hao did not give him a chance to breathe at all.

"Second Palm."

"Overturn the Rivers and Seas."

The golden palm print transformed into a monstrous wave, smashing against Xuanxiao's protective divine light and shattering it layer by layer.

"The third palm."

"Star Shatterer."

Xuanxiao's expression finally changed. He summoned a jade talisman. The aura of a Martial God awakened within it, forming a protective shield.

Wang Hao's eyes grew even colder.

"Trying to scare me with a turtle shell given by some old monster?"

He brought the fingers of his right hand together. The new Son of Heaven Sword at his waist unsheathed itself with excitement, sending a black-gold sword light soaring into the sky.

"Nine Swords of Heaven Cleaving."

"The third sword."

"Void Severing."

The sword light was silent, yet it struck the weakest point of the jade talisman's shield with absolute precision.

Crack.

The jade talisman fractured.

Xuanxiao looked as if he had been struck by lightning. A mist of blood exploded from his chest, instantly dyeing his white robes red.

The eighteen envoys from the Sacred Grounds were greatly alarmed and attacked simultaneously.

"Stop!"

"Emperor of Great Zhou, you dare injure a Kunlun Sacred Envoy!"

"A petty kingdom of the Eastern Wastelands, how dare you rebel against your superiors!"

Eighteen divine abilities blasted toward Wang Hao from all directions.

The crowd in the capital cried out in shock.

Wang Hao didn't even turn his head. He simply said indifferently, "Old Wei."

Wei Zhongxian took a step into the sky. His chilling true essence transformed into a massive curtain of ice.

"This old servant is here."

The ice curtain blocked half of the divine abilities.

Ye Guyun drew his sword, and the Pavilion Master of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion attacked at the same time. Two streams of sword qi pierced through the sea of clouds, blocking three more attacks.

Xiao Chen let out a long howl, his fist intent like a dragon.

Qin Hongye's blade light shone blood-red.

Wanyan Gu finally found his spiked club. Laughing wildly, he smashed it toward one of the Sacred Ground envoys. "Come, come, come! Let me see if the heads of those from the Central State are harder than those from the Eastern Wastelands!"

The ancestors of the Ren and Li families ascended into the sky simultaneously.

Of the Great Zhou experts who had just returned in triumph, not a single one retreated.

They knew perfectly well that these people were backed by the Sacred Grounds and Martial Gods.

But at this moment, they only knew one thing—His Majesty had made a move.

So they would fight.

They didn't care if it was a Sacred Ground or a burial ground.

The sky instantly exploded into utter chaos.

The eighteen envoys had assumed that their peak Sky Realm cultivation would be enough to suppress the Eastern Wastelands. But the moment they exchanged blows, they realized that these Eastern Wastelanders had just fought their way out of the bellies of Nightmares. Their bodies were still reeking of bloodlust, and their fighting styles were absurdly suicidal.

Especially Wanyan Gu.

His shoulder was pierced by a divine light from one of the envoys, but instead of retreating, he grabbed the opponent's wrist and laughed heartily. "Caught you!"

Then, he slammed his head right into the envoy's face.

Bang!

The envoy's nose bridge caved in on the spot.

Wanyan Gu was still quite dissatisfied. "The skulls of the Central State aren't that great either!" This was a true prodigy slapping a face above his level.

On the other side, Wang Hao had already caught up to Xuanxiao.

Xuanxiao was both shocked and furious.

He was a Quasi-Martial God.

An absolute peak figure outside the younger generation of the Central State.

Even within the Sacred Grounds, he was the Deputy Envoy of the Law Enforcement Hall. Ordinary Sky Realm experts had to bow their heads when they saw him. Yet today, he was actually being completely suppressed and beaten by an Emperor of the Eastern Wastelands.

What was even more terrifying was the wisp of white lightning on Wang Hao's body.

That lightning was no ordinary thunder.

Every time it entered his body, it felt like fragments of the Heavenly Dao were scraping against his bones. Xuanxiao even felt that if it weren't for his foundation as a Quasi-Martial God, he would have been blown to pieces by that very first palm strike.

"Wang Hao!" Xuanxiao shouted sternly. "Do you know what you are doing? You are provoking the Eighteen Sacred Grounds!"

Wang Hao grabbed him by the collar and viciously hurled him from the clouds down to the ground.

Boom!

Xuanxiao crashed outside the capital city, leaving a hundred-foot-deep crater in the ground.

Dust and smoke billowed into the sky.

Wang Hao descended from the heavens and planted a foot firmly on Xuanxiao's chest.

White lightning spread from the sole of his foot. Xuanxiao let out a miserable groan as his protective true essence completely dissipated.

The eighteen envoys all stopped fighting, their expressions ugly to the extreme.

Above the capital, countless people stared with wide eyes.

A Quasi-Martial God.

Was being stepped on by His Majesty.

This scene was even more shocking than their triumphant return from Heaven Severing Ridge.

Blood trickled from the corner of Xuanxiao's mouth, but his gaze remained arrogant. "You wouldn't dare kill me."

Wang Hao looked down at him and thought about it seriously.

"True."

Xuanxiao's sneer had just begun to form.

Wang Hao slapped him across the face.

Slap!

The crisp sound echoed throughout the entire city.

Xuanxiao was stunned.

The eighteen envoys were stunned.

The officials were also stunned.

Wang Hao said indifferently, "Killing you is troublesome, but slapping you is not."

Slap!

Another slap.

Half of Xuanxiao's face swelled up.

"I am very displeased with you high-and-mighty Sacred Grounds."

Slap!

The third slap.

"Especially displeased that you chose to act arrogant right when I returned in triumph."

Slap!

The fourth slap.

"Even more displeased that you opened your mouths and demanded my Western Regions."

Slap!

The fifth slap.

"Are you Sacred Grounds so used to robbing things that you forgot other people can fight back?"

Xuanxiao's eyes practically spewed fire, trembling all over from humiliation and anger.

"Wang Hao—"

Slap!

The sixth slap cut him off.

Wang Hao leaned in. His voice was very soft, but it allowed everyone to hear him clearly.

"Go back and tell your masters."

"I will attend the Kunlun Assembly in three months."

"I will go representing the Eastern Wastelands."

"However, there will be no tribute."

"And I won't hand over Tianque Province either."

"If you insist on having something, I can prepare something else for you."

Xuanxiao gritted his teeth. "What?"

Wang Hao smiled. "Coffins."

The entire venue fell dead silent.

Following that, cheers erupted over the capital city like a tsunami.

"Victory to Great Zhou!"

"Victory to His Majesty!"

"Victory to the Eastern Wastelands!"

The sound wave soared into the sky, forcibly dispersing the pillars of light beneath the feet of the eighteen Sacred Ground envoys.

Xuanxiao was kicked back into the sky by Wang Hao.

By the time he stabilized his posture, his face was so swollen that his original aloof appearance could no longer be seen.

Wang Hao stood with his hands behind his back, his black robes fluttering. A black dragon of national destiny coiled behind him as he said coldly, "Scram."

The eighteen envoys had ashen faces, but none dared to make another move.

They looked at Xuanxiao.

Xuanxiao stared fixedly at Wang Hao, killing intent surging in his eyes like a tide, but ultimately, he gritted his teeth and said, "Let's go."

The pillars of light rolled back.

The nineteen envoys from the Sacred Grounds tore through the void and departed.

Only when they completely disappeared did the oppressive feeling over the capital slowly dissipate.

The officials collapsed to the ground in droves.

Zhang Jing, Duke of Ying let out a long sigh, but his face was filled with worry. "Your Majesty, I'm afraid the Sacred Grounds will not let this matter rest."

Wang Hao said indifferently, "I don't plan on letting it rest either."

He turned and walked into the Imperial City.

Just as he reached the palace gates, an elderly yet vigorous voice rang out from the direction of the Ancestral Temple.

"Nicely fought."

Wang Hao looked up.

Wang Wudi stood atop the palace wall, his white hair flying in the wind, smiling very happily.

"You were just short a couple of slaps."

Wang Hao raised an eyebrow. "Great-grandfather also thinks it wasn't enough?"

Wang Wudi nodded. "With that tone of his just now, if it were me in my younger days, I would have pulled all his teeth out."

Everyone: ...

This Wang family lineage was indeed ancestrally not to be trifled with.

Wang Wudi looked at Wang Hao, his expression gradually turning serious.

"Come to the Ancestral Temple."

"I need to explain the matters of the Kunlun Assembly to you clearly."

Wang Hao's eyes flickered.

He knew that the real trouble had only just begun.