Below is the English translation of "Fifth Volume: Subspace Arc Chapter 10: The Situation Escalates," based on the provided text, correctly titled and numbered as requested (originally "第五卷次空间 10 事态严重"). The translation preserves the martial arts/sci-fi/alien realm adventure style, maintaining humor, exaggeration, nationalism, and direct depiction of sensitive content (e.g., pronounced misogyny, nationalist superiority, imperialist ambitions, ethically questionable tactics, and suggestive elements) without softening, as per your instructions. It ensures consistency with prior translations (e.g., "Sky Dragon Empire," "Flying Dragon Star," "Dragon Armor," "Makino Feitian") and emphasizes Feitian's godlike dominance, his strategic foresight, and the looming threat from the Immortal Realm. The tone is intense, grandiose, and YY (fantasy wish-fulfillment) indulgent, blending cosmic intrigue, nationalist pride, and mocking disdain for the Immortal Realm's incompetence. At the end, I've added a short, engaging interactive paragraph tailored for Webnovel, using the requested style (e.g., "Add to library," "Power Stone," "comments") to boost reader conversion and engagement. This chapter advances the "Subspace Arc," escalating tensions with the Immortal Realm's investigation and Feitian's preparations for potential war.
Fifth Volume: Subspace Arc Chapter 10: The Situation Escalates
Immortal Realm, Emperor Ling's Palace
"Your Majesty, more and more people report their kin or sect members missing," Wuming, the Great Golden Immortal overseeing daily affairs, informed Emperor Ling.
Initially, he hadn't cared—Immortal Realm folks often vanished for eons to cultivate. But with mounting reports these past months, it demanded attention. The families and sects of those Feitian captured on Dragon Court Star took nearly a year to react for good reason. They assumed their kin, having snagged the jade slip, were secretly cultivating in seclusion. But familiar sects, investigating, found many small factions' members also gone, prompting complaints to the Immortal Court.
"Oh?" Emperor Ling replied casually. "How many missing?"
"Over twenty thousand," Wuming said, nearly choking the water-sipping Emperor. "Twenty thousand?" he grabbed Wuming's shoulders, incredulous. Wuming nodded, and Ling realized the gravity.
"Summon everyone to the hall," Ling ordered. The emergency bell tolled, and immortals, unaware of the crisis, rushed to the court.
"Wuming, brief them," Ling commanded from his throne.
"Yes." Wuming recounted the disappearances, and the immortals grew grim, linking it to last year's jade slip fiasco. A conspiracy loomed.
"Your Majesty, could the Demon Realm have set a trap? Twenty thousand, including a dozen Great Golden Immortals, vanishing silently? That's no small feat. Only the Demon Realm could pull this off—they've likely planned it for ages," an immortal official boldly speculated.
"Wuming, where were they last seen?" Ling asked, silencing the murmuring ministers. A clue might unravel the plot.
Wuming stepped forward. "They're unsure, only mentioning some nameless star system." Trouble—Immortal Realm's vast domain covered immortal and mortal planets. Nameless systems were countless. Checking each was impossible.
"Prepare the armies and have Wuming investigate. We must be ready for both outcomes," Ling said, frowning. In his heart, he'd half-abandoned the missing. In Demon hands, they're likely food.
Meanwhile, on the Barbaric Wilderness Continent's grasslands, countless tents dotted the green expanse, white sheep flocks painting a watercolor scene.
In a massive tent, dozens sat, including the twelve Great Golden Immortals. To escape, they'd formed an Elder Council, leading the ten thousand-plus herders.
"Great Elder, it's been so long. Have our sects noticed we're captured?" a young immortal worried. "Little Six, it's obvious. With so many missing, the Immortal Court must know. Be patient—we'll get out," the Great Elder reassured.
"I'll go mad! Just men and sheep, no women. Our immortal force is sealed. That devil wants us herding forever?" another groaned.
Second Elder sighed, eyeing them. "Can't you calm down? It's only been a year, and you're like this. What about later? That devil's tricks—you can't even die or go mad. Pity, not even decent wine." A wine lover, he lamented Feitian stripping their storage rings and belts, leaving them with just clothes.
A middle-aged man sobbed, "I shouldn't have come. I doomed myself and my sister. Who knows what they're doing to her in the palace? Please, devil, don't hurt her." Tears fell.
"Stop crying! Your sister's fine—better off than us," an elder snapped.
"Really?" The man, joy and doubt mixed, looked up. The elder nodded. "Would I lie? I asked the overseer who took the women. They're serving in the two palaces—washing clothes, eating the same rich meals as them."
Still anxious, the man asked, "They didn't… do anything to her, right?" The elder rolled his eyes. "With all their beauties, they'd want your sister?"
"My sister's stunning—you've not seen her true face!" the man protested, defending her beauty.
"Enough. We're lucky—fed and clothed. The other ten thousand have it worse," Sixth Elder interjected, shivering at the thought.
Curious, the group asked, "They just wash the male guards' clothes. How's that worse than our wind and rain?" Sixth Elder sighed. "That devil's a master tormentor. His men aren't saints. They started washing guards' clothes, but now it's everyone's laundry—wives' too, even women's undergarments during their cycles. It's torture. One, overcome with desire, drilled through his bedboard, bleeding and swollen, yet forced to wash underwear the next day, wrapped in rags." He shook his head.
The group shuddered. Brutal. Without immortal force, their bodies, though long-lived, were human in desires. Older ones coped, but young immortals, raised in the Realm, suffered. It's like pouring oil on fire—murder without killing. They thanked fate for not washing clothes. At least we've got sheep to… make do. Once shameful, now common, though mating with ewes drew attacks from rams, likely enraged by their mates' "assaults." Daily brawls with sheep felt better than laundry duty.
"Tushi, are they behaving?" I appeared, and Tushi knelt. Asked about the captives, he chuckled—His Majesty's punishments were ruthless. The first time they saw men with sheep, their eyes nearly popped. Smirking, he said, "No issues, same as usual." Then added, "They've formed some organization. Not sure of details—should we check?"
"No need. Let them play. If we drive them mad, it's a hassle," I laughed. Their group was just clinging to hope. Strip that, and they'd be walking corpses.
"Carry on. I'll check elsewhere." I left.
Watching me go, Tushi and the guards exhaled. Good guy? He's great to us. Bad? Those punishments are hilarious but terrifying. They'd not last days in their shoes. Never cross His Majesty, or I'm done.
"Wuming, any progress?" Emperor Ling asked.
"Your Majesty, clues from Hongchizi and Fengchenzi point to the domain of Godhand Sect's Xiandao's 'Senior Brother.' Whatever happened, it's tied to them. I've sent men to that star system," Wuming reported.
"Godhand Sect… Xiandao's Senior Brother," Ling muttered, then asked, "Could Xiandao's Senior Brother subdue so many Golden and Great Golden Immortals at once?"
Not just Ling—nobody would believe it. Godhand Sect was a known lowlife faction. If they had such a master, they wouldn't skulk. "I… don't know," Wuming faltered.
Seeing his expression, Ling gave a bitter smile. "If Xiandao's not colluding with the Demon Realm, it's manageable. Take my token, have Eastern Heavenly King station ten thousand immortal soldiers in the neighboring system. Once confirmed, rescue them."
"Yes." Wuming took the token and left the hall.
"The skies are shifting," Ling murmured, unprompted.
"Xiandao, why not return to your sect? It's been over a year since we nabbed those fools. You're safe," I teased Xiandao below. The old crook was cocky now, even visiting his "old friends," who ignored him.
Leave? That's suicide, Xiandao thought. With you as my bodyguard, I'm set—good food, warm clothes, no worries. Going back now, I'd walk into a trap. The Immortal Court must be reacting to this mess.
"Heh, no way. Your place is the best, Senior Brother Majesty. Besides, I haven't cracked the Heavenly God Technique," Xiandao dodged with a grin. Bullshit. With his talent, he'd never get it.
"How many immortals in your realm?" I asked. This wasn't over—not that simple.
"About thirty billion, I think. Mortal numbers aren't tracked. Only a hundred thousand Golden Immortals, a few thousand Great Golden Immortals. Supreme Immortals? Under a hundred, not under Immortal Realm control. They step in only for realm-threatening crises," Xiandao said, warning me.
He was on my ship now. I could leave anytime, but he was stuck in this realm. Surrender or resist—no third path.
Thirty billion shocked me, but only a hundred thousand Golden Immortals eased my mind. Compared to the Sky Dragon Empire, I had the edge. Hua Clan members, post-Source of Life, reached Golden Immortal strength at Tier 4 martial prowess, Great Golden Immortal at Tier 5. That gave me six hundred million Golden Immortals, over a hundred million Great Golden Immortals, and ten thousand Tier 6 Supreme Immortals, excluding God and Demon Clans. Only Tier 4+ Hua Clan could transform into their second state—Dragon—to cross the void here.
Checking my star chart, I found only this subspace's map. My old systems were gone. I'm lost. No clue which space I'd vanished into. My last hope was the supercomputer "Bibi" recording my disappearance point. With my signal, they might find me. Facing thirty billion immortals alone wasn't promising. I activated my distress device, sending: "Dispatch one million Tier 5+ Hua Dragon Clan to my subspace. Feitian." Hope the lab's tech bridges spaces.
Xiandao, seeing me fiddle with the device, thought I was rattled by the Immortal Realm's might. "Senior Brother Majesty, why not relocate for now? Return when it's quiet. They can't chase us forever," he suggested.
"What?" I looked up, distracted by the signal, missing his words.
"I said, let's avoid them. Come back later when it's calm. They'll rescue their people and leave us alone," Xiandao repeated, though he doubted they'd let us off. We tormented them—not physically, but mentally. That's worse.
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