The Kunlun Conference Opens, Gathering the World

The smoke had yet to clear from the arena in Kunlun Reception City, but another, even greater storm was already brewing.

The news of Wang Hao suppressing thirty-seven Holy Sons and Holy Maidens with just three palm strikes crashed into the lake of the Central Continent like a meteorite. The resulting massive waves centered around the Reception City and swept across the entire world. The Sixteen Holy Lands of the Central Continent fell collectively silent for three whole days—not because they did not want to speak, but because they did not know what to say.

Say Wang Hao bullied the weak? He was at the peak of the Void-Riding Realm, and Jiang Taixuan was at the third level of the Void-Riding Realm; the gap was far from bullying. Say Wang Hao won unfairly? He openly and honorably struck everyone down with three palms, without any sneak attacks or underhanded tricks. Say he rigged the bets? He openly placed bets on himself winning before the match; who could say a word against that?

The most fatal issue was the gambling debt of 1.5 billion spirit stones. The owners of the thirteen major casinos in the Central Continent turned white-haired overnight. Even if they dug up their ancestors' graves, they could not scrape together this sum. In the end, Wang Hao sent someone to deliver a message: No rush, take your time paying it back. I will wait for you in the Eastern Wasteland. The interest will be calculated at an annual rate of ten percent.

It was as gentle as catching up with old friends.

But everyone knew that from now on, these thirteen casinos would be Wang Hao's intelligence stations and coin purses in the Central Continent. Their branches scattered in every corner of the Central Continent, every ledger, and every channel of information would become the tentacles this Emperor of the Eastern Wasteland extended into the Central Continent.

When the sect masters of the Sixteen Holy Lands realized this, they ground their teeth in hatred, but they were utterly helpless.

And just as the major factions of the Central Continent were overwhelmed with anxiety, the formal agenda of the Kunlun Assembly finally began.

The main peak of the Kunlun Mountains, Tianxu Peak.

Tianxu Peak was the highest peak in the Kunlun Mountain Range. The summit had been flattened by someone using great divine abilities, forming a white jade square spanning ten thousand feet. In the center of the square stood a ninety-nine-foot-tall stone stele, carved with four ancient and vigorous words: Kunlun Dao Discussion.

It was said that this stele was personally erected by the founding patriarch of the Kunlun Sect ten thousand years ago. The stele itself was a highly ranked anomaly artifact, capable of suppressing eerie auras within a thousand miles and ensuring the peace of Kunlun Mountain for ten thousand years.

At this moment, circular seating arrangements were laid out on the white jade square.

The seats were divided into five tiers, arranged according to the power structure of the world. The innermost tier belonged to the Sixteen Holy Lands of the Central Continent. Sixteen tall white jade platforms were arranged in a half-moon shape, each engraved with the emblem of its respective Holy Land.

The Azure Dragon Coiling the Sun crest of the Tianque Holy Land, the Bathing Fire Phoenix crest of the Chixiao Holy Land, the Big Dipper crest of the Xingyun Holy Land, the Karma Wheel crest of the Luoyun Holy Land... The sixteen high platforms were magnificent and imposing, looking down from above like sixteen judges.

The second tier was for the representatives of the other sects, ancient clans, and rogue cultivator factions of the Central Continent, totaling over two hundred people.

The third tier was for the representatives of the Eastern Wasteland, Southern Borders, Western Regions, and Northern Reaches. The seats were three feet lower than those of the Central Continent's Holy Lands, and the material was downgraded from white jade to cyan jade.

The fourth tier was for the Dao Protectors and accompanying true disciples of the various factions.

The fifth tier was the spectator gallery, densely packed with thirty thousand people.

Wang Hao sat in the Eastern Wasteland representative seats on the third tier. Beside him were Wang Wudi, Wei Zhongxian, the Ten Great Geniuses, and the heads of other Eastern Wasteland factions. His gaze swept across the sixteen high platforms on the first tier, then over his own cyan jade seat, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Old Wei, he lowered his voice.

Your Majesty.

What do you think this seating arrangement looks like?

Wei Zhongxian answered honestly: Like interrogating prisoners in a magistrate's court. The first row is the presiding judges, and we are the prisoners awaiting trial.

Wang Hao laughed: Well said. They really are treating us like prisoners.

He turned to look at the other areas of the third tier. The representatives of the Thirty-Six Nations of the Southern Borders sat to the left of the Eastern Wasteland. Their leader was an old man draped in a multicolored brocade robe—Wu Gu, the Supreme Elder of the Southern Borders' Ten Thousand Gu Sect. His face was covered in wrinkles like withered tree bark, and his hands were as thin as chicken claws, with nails black as ink. It was said that he raised thirty-six types of exotic Gu in his body, the strongest of which could poison even a Void-Riding Realm cultivator to death.

Behind him sat over twenty leaders of the various Southern Borders tribes, all with gloomy expressions.

The representatives of the Twenty-Six Buddhist Kingdoms of the Western Regions sat to the right of the Eastern Wasteland. Unlike the gloominess of the Southern Borders, the monks of the Western Regions all had kind and benevolent faces. Their leader was an old monk draped in a golden-red cassock—Zen Master Du'e, the Head Monk of the Great Thunderclap Temple.

He pressed his palms together, his expression solemn and majestic, but Wang Hao noticed that an extra layer of golden silk cushion had been added to his cyan jade seat, padding his status slightly. Behind Du'e sat over twenty representatives of the Buddhist Kingdoms; some were tonsured and ordained, while others kept their hair as laymen, but without exception, they were all as silent as stones.

The representatives of the snowfield tribes of the Northern Reaches sat at the very edge. The Northern Reaches had vast lands but a sparse population and poor resources, making them the weakest faction. Only the chieftains of a dozen or so tribes came. Their leader was a middle-aged man wearing a white bear skin—Tuoba Xiong, the Chief of the Snow Wolf Tribe. He was as burly as an iron tower, with a full beard, sitting on the cyan jade seat like a silent iceberg.

Wang Hao swept his gaze over everyone, already forming a plan in his mind.

Just then, a distant bell toll echoed from the summit of Tianxu Peak.

Dong—

The bell chime rippled outward, and the clamor of thirty thousand people instantly subsided.

Light shone simultaneously on the high platforms of the Sixteen Holy Lands. Sixteen figures stepped out from the light and took their seats in the main positions of the high platforms.

They were the sect masters of the Sixteen Holy Lands, or the fully authorized representatives personally dispatched by the sect masters. Every single one of them was at the peak of the Void-Riding Realm, or even a half-step Martial God.

Jiang Tianchen, the Sect Master of the Tianque Holy Land, sat in the center main seat. He was Jiang Taixuan's father, and his facial features were seventy percent similar to Jiang Taixuan's, but with an added majesty born from long-term authority. He did not exude any imposing aura, yet when his gaze swept across the venue, everyone subconsciously lowered their heads.

Everyone, Jiang Tianchen spoke. His voice was not loud, but it clearly entered the ears of all thirty thousand people. The Kunlun Assembly is held once every century. This assembly coincides with drastic changes in the world. The trend of eerie revival is growing ever more intense, and the destiny of the world is turbulent and uneasy. Therefore, there are three topics for this assembly: First, the response to the eerie revival; Second, the distribution of the world's destiny; Third, the exploration of the Martial God Realm.

He paused, his gaze falling on the representatives of the four major domains on the third tier. His tone was as flat as if he were stating an unquestionable fact.

According to convention, the resolutions of the assembly will be jointly decided by the Sixteen Holy Lands. The other factions may attend as observers. Those with objections may submit a written petition to the Kunlun Law Enforcement Hall after the assembly.

As soon as these words were spoken, a commotion instantly broke out among the seats on the third tier.

Elder Wu Gu of the Southern Borders gave a dry chuckle, the sound like the cry of a night owl: Sect Master Jiang's words are truly beautiful. We rushed here from thousands of miles away, yet we don't even have the right to speak? So this Kunlun Assembly is just the sixteen families of the Central Continent closing their doors to divide the spoils?

Zen Master Du'e of the Western Regions pressed his hands together and chanted a Buddhist proclamation: Amitabha. Sect Master Jiang, this poor monk believes that since this is an assembly of the whole world, the avenues of speech should be opened wide. Although the Western Regions are remote, we are also deeply harmed by the eerie anomalies. We came this time to seek a solution, not to listen to someone pronounce a verdict.

Tuoba Xiong of the Northern Reaches did not speak, but merely gave a heavy snort, the sound resembling a bear roaring in its throat.

Jiang Tianchen's expression remained unchanged, as if he had long anticipated this reaction. He spoke faintly, "This is the convention. Since its inception ten thousand years ago, the Kunlun Assembly has always been hosted by the Sixteen Sacred Grounds of the Central Province. If any of you are dissatisfied, you may appeal to the Kunlun Law Enforcement Hall."

These words were airtight, but their true meaning was clear: We make the rules, and you have to obey whether you like it or not.

Elder Wu Gu's face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water. Behind him, a leader from the Southern Frontier whispered, "Elder, why must we swallow this anger? At worst, we just leave!"

Wu Gu shook his head. "Leave? If you leave, the Southern Frontier will have no share in the distribution of the world's karmic luck. Without the blessing of karmic luck, the Southern Frontier's barrier against the anomalies won't last three years. The Central Province knows exactly this, which is why they dare to be so arrogant."

Similar conversations were taking place in the seating areas of the Western Realm and the Northern Region. Everyone was indignant, yet utterly helpless. The nexus of the world's karmic luck was at Mount Kunlun, and the actual masters of Mount Kunlun were the Sixteen Sacred Grounds. This was a power structure formed over ten thousand years; it could not be changed overnight.

Only one person showed no resentment, voiced no complaints, and did not even furrow his brow.

He leaned back in his sapphire-jade chair with his legs crossed, peeling a Kunlun Fire Spirit Fruit in his hands, looking as leisurely as if he were basking in the sun in his own imperial garden.

Elder Wu Gu noticed him and turned his head over. "Are you Wang Hao, the Emperor of the Great Zhou of the Eastern Wastelands?"

Wang Hao smiled and cupped his hands. "That is indeed me. What advice does Elder Wu Gu have?"

Wu Gu stared at him for a moment before suddenly lowering his voice. "This old man has heard of how Your Majesty defeated thirty-seven holy sons and holy maidens with just three palm strikes. Truly satisfying. But I wonder, what are Your Majesty's thoughts on today's situation?"

Wang Hao popped the Fire Spirit Fruit into his mouth and mumbled indistinctly, "Thoughts? I have no thoughts. The Sixteen Sacred Grounds of the Central Province sit high and mighty above us. How could we border barbarians dare to have any thoughts?"

A trace of disappointment flashed through Wu Gu's eyes. He had originally thought that this Emperor of the Eastern Wastelands, who dared to personally lead a seven-hundred-thousand-strong army against the Central Province, would be a man of courage. He didn't expect him to be a coward too.

But Wang Hao's next words made his eyes light up.

"However—" Wang Hao slowly wiped his hands, "I have a bad habit. The more others try to silence me, the more I want to speak. The more others try to keep me down, the more I want to jump up."

He winked at Wu Gu.

"Elder Wu Gu, I can see that you're also someone who refuses to swallow insults. How about the two of us cooperate a little?"

Wu Gu's heart stirred. "Cooperate how?"

Wang Hao leaned closer and whispered a few sentences.

Wu Gu's expression shifted from disdain to surprise, from surprise to excitement, and finally settled into the smile of a sly old fox.

"Your Majesty truly lives up to your reputation," Wu Gu said, giving a thumbs up. "Wicked. Truly wicked."

Wang Hao waved his hand modestly. "You flatter me. I just have a few more little tricks up my sleeve."

Wu Gu burst into hearty laughter, his booming voice drawing the sidelong glances of the surrounding crowd. Jiang Tianchen frowned, his gaze sweeping over like lightning, but he only saw Elder Wu Gu sitting upright with a solemn expression, while Wang Hao was holding a jade slip, pretending to read it earnestly. The two were separated by a full ten feet, appearing to have no interaction whatsoever.

The Southern Frontier leaders behind Wu Gu exchanged bewildered looks. They knew their Grand Elder well; the sheer joy in that laughter was definitely not because they were about to be bullied by the Central Province.

"The Grand Elder seems very happy?"

"No, it seems the Grand Elder has found a kindred spirit."

"What kind of kindred spirit?"

"Look at the way he looks at the Emperor of the Eastern Wastelands—that's the look of an old fox looking at a young fox."

Up on the high platform, Jiang Tianchen continued to preside over the assembly's agenda. The first topic—the response to the resurgence of anomalies—was presented by a Supreme Elder from the Tianque Sacred Ground.

This Supreme Elder was named Jiang Cang, one of the three surviving Martial God Realm experts of the Tianque Sacred Ground. The aura surrounding him was as deep as the ocean, and every step he took caused the spiritual energy of the entire Tianxu Peak to tremble slightly. Standing before the stone stele, his voice rang like a massive bell as he recounted the achievements and experiences of the major sacred grounds of the Central Province in combating the anomalies over the past century. His tone was flat and the content was detailed, sounding seemingly impeccable.

But as Wang Hao listened, the smile on his lips grew cold.

Because every event, every case study, and every successful suppression that Jiang Cang mentioned had taken place within the borders of the Central Province. He didn't mention a single word about the anomalous disasters plaguing the Eastern Wastelands, the Southern Frontier, the Western Realm, or the Northern Region.

It was as if only the Central Province in this world was worth protecting, while the life and death of the other four regions were completely excluded from their considerations.