The dark purple light of the ten-thousand-fold gravity array did not simply fade. It was violently, forcefully dragged into the soles of Yan Shuo’s white boots like a river swirling down a bottomless drain.
The jade tiles of the grand plaza, which had been infused with centuries of spiritual energy to sustain the formation, rapidly turned dull, cracked, and crumbled into fine gray sand.
Yan Shuo stood perfectly still in the center of the decaying array. He let out a slow, deeply satisfied exhale. The incredibly dense, kinetic energy of the formation had been swallowed completely by the Abyssal Star-Core in his dantian, leaving him feeling pleasantly full, like he had just finished a rich, heavy banquet.
"Delicious," Yan Shuo murmured, casually dusting off his sleeves. "But the spiritual circulation was a bit sloppy. The array master who designed this clearly favored raw power over efficiency."
He looked up at the Patriarch of the Righteous Alliance.
The most powerful man in the Central Continent was currently trembling so violently that his golden dragon robes were shaking. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and completely devoid of their previous majestic arrogance.
He had just witnessed a fifteen-year-old Foundation Establishment youth devour a supreme inner-palace suppression array. It completely defied the natural laws of the Heavenly Dao. It was not a technique of the righteous path. It was an impossibility.
"W-What are you?" the Patriarch choked out, stumbling backward. He pointed a trembling finger at Yan Shuo. "That was the Earth-Binding Hex! It was designed to crush the meridians of Grandmasters! How did you swallow it?!"
Yan Shuo smiled warmly. It was the charming, polite smile of a well-bred young noble.
"I have a very fast cultivation method, Patriarch," Yan Shuo answered mildly. "Now, I believe we were discussing your apology. The jade tiles are currently turning to dust, so I suggest you drop to your knees quickly before the ground gives way completely."
The Patriarch’s face flushed with a mixture of absolute terror and violently wounded pride. He was the sovereign of the Alliance! He commanded thousands of sects! If he knelt to a youth in his own front courtyard, his Dao heart would shatter, and his authority would be erased from history.
"You dare mock me?!" the Patriarch roared, desperation fueling his rage. He turned to the twelve Late Nascent Soul Grandmasters and the hundreds of elite Enforcers surrounding the plaza. "What are you staring at?! He is a demonic anomaly! A trickster! He absorbed the array, but his Qi must be chaotic! Kill him! Slay the Saintess! Protect the Heavenly Dao!"
The twelve Grandmasters hesitated for a fraction of a second, but their loyalty to the Alliance ran deep. They roared in unison, drawing their supreme-tier spiritual weapons. Twelve massive, radiant pillars of Nascent Soul Qi erupted into the sky, tearing the clouds apart.
They prepared to launch a synchronized, apocalyptic strike that would level the entire palace just to ensure the boy and the Saintess were eradicated.
Yan Shuo didn’t reach for the heavy iron sword at his waist. He simply sighed.
"Zhi’er," Yan Shuo said softly.
Tantai Zhi had been standing slightly behind him, her hands clasped obediently, waiting for his command. The moment he spoke her name, a brilliant, adoring smile blossomed on her flawless face.
"Yes, Husband," she replied, her voice sweet and melodic.
She didn’t draw her crimson sword. She merely took a single, elegant step forward, placing herself between Yan Shuo and the charging Grandmasters.
She raised her pale right hand and gently tapped her index finger against the empty air.
Ping.
The sound was as light as a crystal glass clinking, but the effect was catastrophic.
The absolute peak of the mortal realm did not need flashy sword techniques or roaring elemental dragons. Tantai Zhi simply unfurled her spiritual domain.
A wave of crystallized, suffocating killing intent exploded outward in a perfect, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree dome. It didn’t just suppress the surrounding Qi; it completely froze the flow of time and spiritual energy within the plaza.
The twelve radiant pillars of Nascent Soul Qi were snuffed out instantly, like candles in a hurricane.
"GACK!"
The twelve Grandmasters didn’t even have time to swing their weapons. The sheer, physical weight of Tantai Zhi’s domain slammed into them like a falling sky. They were violently driven into the ground, their faces smashing against the cracked jade tiles. The hundreds of silver-armored Enforcers collapsed simultaneously, pinned flat to the plaza, their armor groaning under the impossible pressure.
In a single heartbeat, the entire military might of the Righteous Alliance Headquarters was brought to its hands and knees.
Tantai Zhi lowered her hand, her golden eyes completely dead and devoid of light as she looked at the groveling masses.
"My husband is speaking to your master," she stated, her voice a chilling, demonic whisper that made the blood in their veins freeze. "Did I give you permission to stand?"
The Patriarch was the only one left standing, and only because Tantai Zhi had specifically excluded him from the crushing gravity so Yan Shuo could talk to him.
The old man stared at his defeated army. Twelve Nascent Soul Grandmasters. Defeated by a single tap of a finger. The rumors of the Saintess’s power had not been exaggerated; they had been severely understated.
Yan Shuo walked forward, his boots crunching softly on the ruined jade tiles. He stopped right in front of the Patriarch.
"You see, Patriarch," Yan Shuo said, snapping his paper fan open and casually fanning himself. "You rely too much on numbers. But in the cultivation world, a thousand sheep cannot stop a dragon."
Yan Shuo reached out and gently tapped the Patriarch’s chest with the tip of his closed fan.
The Patriarch flinched, his legs finally giving out. The sheer psychological terror broke his remaining pride. He collapsed to his knees, his golden robes spilling over the dust.
"P-Please," the Patriarch choked out, his voice hoarse, his head bowed. "I... I surrender. The Alliance yields. Name your price. What karmic compensation do you demand?"
Yan Shuo smiled, crouching down so he was eye-to-eye with the broken leader.
"Now we are speaking the same language," Yan Shuo murmured softly. "My wife’s hand was scratched by your envoy’s supreme artifact. Healing such a wound requires vast amounts of spiritual energy. I think... the token to the Alliance’s central treasury should cover the medical expenses."
The Patriarch’s breath hitched. The central treasury held the accumulated wealth of a thousand sects over three millennia!
But as he looked up and saw Tantai Zhi’s golden eyes promising him an eternity of soul-rending torture, the Patriarch didn’t dare refuse. With a trembling hand, he unclasped a glowing, intricately carved jade token from his belt and offered it to the youth.
Yan Shuo took the token, smoothly sliding it into his sleeve. The soft rice was truly bountiful today.
"Very good," Yan Shuo praised him mildly. "Now, for the second matter. That heavy suppression array you just tried to use on me. It was quite unique. Who designed it?"
The Patriarch swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his wrinkled face. "I... I do not know his true name. He is an Honored Guest. He arrived three years ago. He wears a mask of weeping silver."
Yan Shuo’s eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of dark suspicion igniting in his chest. A stranger showing up out of nowhere, gifting the Alliance with an array specifically designed to counter heavy, gravitational energy.
A weeping silver mask, Yan Shuo memorized the detail. This Guest was dangerous. He was actively preparing for a threat the Alliance didn’t even know existed.
"Where is he?" Yan Shuo asked.
"The Star-Gazing Pavilion," the Patriarch stammered quickly, eager to direct the monster’s attention elsewhere. "In the deepest sector of the inner palace. He rarely leaves it. He gave me the array blueprints in exchange for access to our ancient celestial records!"
Yan Shuo stood up. He had the treasury key, he had humiliated the Alliance, and he knew exactly where the spider was hiding.
"You have been very cooperative, Patriarch," Yan Shuo said, turning his back on the kneeling man. "Stay here and reflect on your Dao heart. If any of your elders try to follow us into the inner palace..."
Yan Shuo didn’t finish the threat. He just glanced at his wife.
Tantai Zhi beamed, stepping up to wrap her arm tightly around Yan Shuo’s waist. She looked down at the Patriarch with a sweet, terrifyingly cheerful smile. "I will turn your soul into a lantern and hang it over my husband’s reading chair."
"We will not move! We swear it on the Heavenly Dao!" the Patriarch wept, pressing his forehead against the dust.
Yan Shuo nodded, letting his fiercely devoted wife lead him toward the towering, majestic gates of the inner palace.
High above the ruined plaza, hidden within the towering spire of the Star-Gazing Pavilion, a figure stood by a massive crystal window.
He wore flowing robes as white as funeral silk. His face was entirely concealed behind a smooth, featureless mask of silver, save for two intricate carvings beneath the eyes that looked like frozen, weeping tears.
The Faceless Scholar looked down at the plaza. Through the scrying arrays built into the window, he had watched the entire confrontation. He had watched the golden dome fall. He had watched the Saintess freeze twelve Grandmasters.
But what captured his absolute, undivided attention was the fifteen-year-old youth standing in the center of the decaying array.
The Scholar’s pale, slender hands gripped the windowsill.
"Fascinating," the Scholar whispered to the empty room. His voice was incredibly smooth, yet laced with a deep, paranoid chill. "A mere Foundation Establishment youth, swallowing the kinetic force of an Earth-Binding Hex without shattering his meridians. Such a heavy foundation... I have not seen its like in a century."
The Scholar tilted his head, his silver mask catching the afternoon sun. He didn’t know who the youth was, nor why the untouchable Saintess obeyed his every word. But an anomaly of this magnitude, possessing a cultivation art so similar to a ghost from the past, could not be ignored.
The Scholar turned away from the window, his white robes sweeping across the floor.
He walked toward a massive, glowing array table in the center of the pavilion. If the youth and the Saintess were coming to the inner palace, the Scholar needed to test the limits of this anomaly.
"You humbled the Patriarch, little anomaly," the Scholar said softly, picking up a black jade brush. "But let us see if you can survive the true depths of the Central Continent."
The Scholar began to rapidly paint new, complex runes onto the array table, preparing a dark welcome for the approaching couple.