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?
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
