Martial Arts Alliance Headquarters.
Grand Conference Hall.
Buzz—!
As the attendees filed in, the nine thousand star-illuminating stones embedded in the dome ceiling lit up simultaneously, bathing the Alliance's assembly hall in a brilliance akin to daylight.
Seated on the circular jade tiers were the seventy-two sect leaders of the Xuantian Realm, their robes shimmering with spiritual light that cast shifting, iridescent shadows upon the dark golden floor.
Some sat with eyes closed in meditation, while others idly tapped the smart desks placed before them.
This time, the Alliance had summoned all seventy-two upper-tier sect leaders of the Xuantian Realm—each of whom commanded countless subordinate branches beneath them.
Yet, one question lingered in everyone’s mind: Why had the Alliance called them here?
[Beep~ Please enjoy some tea~]
Translucent humanoid figures seeped from the walls, morphing into chibi shark forms that floated beside each sect leader.
Balancing trays on their heads, they offered steaming cups of premium tea.
So...
Why sharks?
Feng Yutian, the leader of the Taichu Sacred Land, was naturally present.
Silently accepting the tea, he took a sip, savoring the fragrant leaves as they blossomed across his palate.
His eyes brightened. "Excellent tea."
No sooner had he spoken than—
"Brother Feng~~"
A woman in crimson robes cooed as she leaned toward him. "Fancy seeing you at this Alliance meeting! And what a coincidence—I’m seated right next to you~"
Feng Yutian responded with a cold snort. Spiritual energy erupted around him, forming an invisible barrier that shoved the woman back forcefully.
Stumbling, she barely caught herself from falling. Shooting him a wounded look, she pouted, "Brother Feng, how cruel! I was just showing concern, and this is how you treat me?"
A chuckle sounded nearby. "Hong Ji, after all these years, you still refuse to give up?"
"If your sect members knew their esteemed leader of the Hehuan Sect was pining chastely over a man, they’d probably—"
Before the speaker could finish, Hong Ji’s flirtatious demeanor vanished. She whirled around, snarling, "Shut your mouth, Mo Yuan, you old fossil! One more word, and I’ll drain every drop of your essence!"
"Fine, fine, I’ll stop."
Mo Yuan, leader of the Taixuan Demon Sect, shook his head with a wry smile. Glancing at Feng Yutian seated beside Hong Ji, he mused, "The three of us together like this… it takes me back to when we first embarked on the path of cultivation."
Indeed.
Who would have guessed?
Feng Yutian of the Taichu Sacred Land, Mo Yuan of the Taixuan Demon Sect, and Hong Ji of the Hehuan Sect—these three had once fought side by side, comrades who had faced life and death together.
Alas, differing ideals had eventually driven them apart.
Feng Yutian nodded, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. "How time flies. Our era has long passed."
Now, as spiritual energy resurged, so too had emerged advanced technologies beyond their comprehension.
His expression sobered as he turned to Mo Yuan. "Earlier, your sect was infiltrated by a practitioner of the Devouring Spirit Demonic Art. Did you manage to identify any distinguishing traits?"
Mo Yuan’s face darkened. "A single individual overpowered me and several elders, wielding our sect’s most advanced techniques with terrifying mastery."
He hesitated. "And… I can’t shake the feeling they’re connected to that newly emerged faction—the Shadow Garden."
Feng Yutian’s gaze grew heavy.
An enemy lurking in the shadows, formidable and unseen—it was a blade perpetually suspended above their heads.
Hong Ji, however, remained fixated on Feng Yutian. "Brother Feng, why dwell on such grim matters? Aren’t we here for this Alliance meeting?"
Her voice turned coy. "You’re close with Qin Luo from the Alliance, aren’t you? Any hints about today’s agenda?"
Feng Yutian shook his head. "No details. Only that it concerns the survival of our world, and attendance was mandatory."
Hong Ji scoffed. "Survival of the world? How dramatic. Just a bunch of ants inflating their importance."
Her eyes swept the room, lips curling. "I wonder what that young Alliance representative plans to announce."
Yet...
One hour passed.
The sect leaders sipped tea calmly, assuming the Alliance was merely delayed.
Two hours passed.
They continued drinking, though impatience began to crease their brows.
Three hours later...
Still, no host had appeared.
"What kind of joke is this?!"
The leader of the Blazing Heaven Sect shot to his feet, seizing the chibi shark attendant that had refilled his cup dozens of times. "Has the Alliance forgotten us?! Where’s the announcement?!"
They had waited for hours with no explanation.
Feng Yutian frowned, considering whether to message Qin Luo for clarification.
Mo Yuan muttered under his breath, "What in the world is going on...?"
No matter the circumstances, this delay was beyond excessive.
Hong Ji was growing drowsy from waiting. She sidled up to Feng Yutian and teased, "Brother Feng, isn’t this perfect? We can stay a little longer..."
Before she could finish, her lingering, seductive tone was abruptly cut off as the starlight gems embedded in the dome flickered out all at once.
!!!!
The atmosphere froze.
Every sect leader’s expression darkened in unison.
The next moment—
Gurgle...
Thick, ink-like shadows seeped from the cracks between the floor tiles, swallowing every source of light in an instant.
"It’s a trap!"
The Beast Mountain Sect Leader tried to rise, but shadowy hands materialized from the darkness, forcing him back into his seat.
"Enough with the theatrics!"
The already irritable Blazing Flame Sect Leader summoned violet flames in his palm—only for them to twist into eerie blue ghostfire within seconds.
Horror dawned on him as he realized his innate life-flame was being corrupted by the darkness, the flickering flames now filled with countless screaming human faces.
Mo Yuan’s heart pounded violently. This malice... it could only be...
He snapped his head up just as a swirling vortex of shadows coalesced at the center of the hall, a black-and-gold throne slowly emerging, borne aloft by skeletal hands.
"The hour has come."
Qin Luo’s voice, reverberating with abyssal echoes, spilled from the shadowy figure seated upon the throne. With every word he spoke, viscous darkness dripped onto the floor, hissing and etching screaming ghostly visages into the stone.
The Mark of the Wailing Specter?!
The sect leaders recoiled in shock.
Since when did the Shadow Garden’s Wailing Specters infiltrate the Alliance headquarters?!
But realization struck swiftly.
Because...
The figure on the throne finally revealed himself fully, clad in a flowing black coat that seemed to ripple like liquid shadow.
It was...
"Qin Luo?!"
Every eye locked onto him in disbelief.
Why did Qin Luo’s aura mirror that of the Shadow Garden?
Could it be...?!
At last, someone pieced it together.
One sect leader bellowed, "We’ve been deceived! This is the Alliance’s scheme!"
"The Shadow Garden and the Alliance are in league!"
"He summoned us here to—"
SMACK!
"Enough chatter."
Before the man could finish, Qin Luo lazily raised his right hand. A crisp slap rang out, and the speaking sect leader was knocked unconscious by a shadowy palm.
Then, Qin Luo swept his gaze across the room, his eyes flickering with ghostly blue flames. "First, let me welcome you all to this meeting."
"Forgive my tardiness."
"After all..."
As he spoke—
RIIIP—
The space behind him tore open like fabric, revealing long, jagged rifts.
One by one, familiar figures stepped into view—every absent minor sect leader who had failed to attend.
"These are—?!"
Feng Yutian’s pupils constricted.
Qin Luo’s calm voice carried through the hall, "It took some time to deal with these weaker sect leaders... discreetly, of course."
"Now, allow me to reintroduce myself."
He snapped his fingers, and a half-masked visage of the Wailing Specter materialized over his face.
"Shadow Garden’s [Wailing Specter]... and leader of the Martial Arts Alliance."
"At your service."
Silence.
So... this had all been a meticulously orchestrated deception?

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."

e vast world of cultivation, where he becomes the master of the Heavenly Ruins Sacred Hall, a dying old man with barely a tenth of his former cultivation remaining. He is immediately confronted with a deadly crisis: his subordinates have rebelled, and his protectors are forcing him to abdicate. At the critical moment, the system descends from the heavens: [Ding! The host has been detected facing a life-or-death crisis. The system is now officially activated!] [As a gift, you have received the Supreme Beginner’s Pack and awakened the ultimate cheat: ten thousand years of pure cultivation essence every second!] Yin Tianjue: “Wait… ten thousand years of cultivation every second? That’s six hundred thousand years a minute, and in one day… I can’t even calculate it. Either way, I’m already invincible!” You’re a peerless prodigy rarely seen in ten thousand years? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. You’re an undying ancestor who has guarded a sacred land for countless ages? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. You’re the strongest chosen one, blessed with heaven-defying destiny? Sorry, I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. From this day forth, I have only one thing to say: “I gain ten thousand years of cultivation every second. Now, how exactly are you supposed to deal with that?”

Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"