"The Dry Sea really isn't simple. Just wandering into a random village and I've already run into a false imperial."
Tô Mạc Tà checked her condition and found ten of her Chi Pearls cracked - clearly damaged by that final punch from the village chief.
She had refined a total of 505 Chi Pearls. If those ten were further damaged and shattered, her cultivation would fall from the Awaken Realm back to Master level.
"Kneel. That's a proper manner when in the present of an Imperial."
The village chief's cold bark slammed down like thunder, the pressure doubling around them in an instant. For someone of his level, it was hardly glorious to be stalled out so long by a girl nearly two hundred Chi Pearls beneath him.
Tô Mạc Tà lifted one leg, planted the other, and spun gracefully in place. The sea of flowers around her surged in motion, twisting into a violent storm.
Thousands of petals danced like blades.
Against someone her age, this would have been a killing field. But today's opponent was the chief of Phù Trúc village - one foot already in the Imperial Realm. When the flower-blades struck him, they sparked in crimson bursts, the sound of clashing metal ringing sharply through the air.
Then the chief spoke.
"Give me those two bells, and I'll let you leave alive."
He'd already sensed it during their exchanges. Sometimes Tô Mạc Tà's strikes hit hard enough to chill the soul, and other times they couldn't even scratch his Crowned Sovereign-level body. When he noticed the twin bells on her wrists had dulled, the truth became clear.
Those bells were no ordinary ornaments. They must be some mystical treasure, capable of briefly boosting her attack to rival even the Crowned Sovereign level.
The first time she rang them, she knocked the Crown of the Sovereign off the top of his head. The second time, her blow carved into his arm deep to the bone, overcoming even the physique of a pseudo Imperial.
If he could seize those bells, he might truly unlock the power of the Imperial Realm.
Yet, treasures of such calibre normally couldn't be taken away from their master by force. It was in his best intention that he negotiated with her first. If she willingly gave up those bells, all the better. If not, then letting a genius with such artifacts survived would be dangerous.
Worse case, he would have to gamble taking the bells off her corpse.
"Idiots! If you want to live, move now!"
Tô Mạc Tà roared.
Her body exploded into countless petals.
The village chief sneered and swept his arm. A massive column of chi - several meters wide - tore up from the earth and surged into the distance. He'd already seen through her illusion. She was trying to slip away to cure her wounds, and maybe even planning a counter attack.
Behind him, the silver horn Taoist, Ngân Giác Tử, suddenly shivered. A screaming intuition rang in his mind. A warning. He looked up - and saw Tô Mạc Tà drifting past, her eyes like calm lakes, glinting with mischief.
Then the chi column came crashing down on him.
"Shit!"
Ngân Giác Tử cursed aloud, frantically pulling out his banana leave fan and waving it with force.
At once, the massive chi column - dense and solid - ignited into ghostly flames, burning like a colossal torch.
This fire had no heat, and it bloomed from thin air. Wherever it touched, whether chi or matter, it left only pitch-black ash. Silent. Unnatural.
"Die."
Kim Giác Tử moved. His right hand extended, two fingers pointed directly at the village chief. A wound on his forehead still dripped blood.
The blade of light forming at the tip of his Golden Coin Sword, now tainted with blood, had lost its golden glow and turned crimson. It darted through the air like lightning, completely unbothered by the oppressive aura the pseudo Imperial was emitting.
The chief smirked. Segments of bamboo snapped together, forming the Armour of the Awakened around him.
The sword struck - and went dim on contact. Its blade of light crumbled into fragments, while the bamboo armor didn't even show a scratch.
Ngân Giác Tử soared into the sky, flinging the ghostly fire toward the chief with his fan. The strange flames crawled over the armor, but still it didn't budge, unaffected.
Then the swirling petals reformed into Tô Mạc Tà, suspended in midair. Her palms faced each other.
Both bells on her wrists flickered to life.
Tens of thousands of flower petals swarmed between her palms. Slowly, they coalesced into a single bloom - a rainbow-colored flower of ten thousand petals, its core gleaming like molten gold.
Its petals fluttered like a beating heart. Every turn of the flower sent ripples through space. Cracks appeared in the air, and a destructive force swept outward. Homes, trees, villagers - everything caught in its breath was ground to dust.
Tô Mạc Tà said nothing. She simply hurled the flower at the village chief.
He shouted.
The Crown of the Sovereign on his head flew into the air, spinning above him. At once, a ten-meter radius around him lost all color. Space thickened like sap, and time itself slowed.
No spiritual energy could enter. No chi could flow.
The rainbow flower froze midair - a breathtaking masterpiece, suspended in crystal.
This was King's Domain.
The unique art of the Crown of the Sovereign.
There's a saying in Jambudvīpa: "Under heaven, all land is the king's." Within a Sovereign's Domain, even nature bows. All who enter must yield.
The chief touched the suspended flower with a single finger. dissolving it into a blizzard of petals. Its golden core shattered, turned into thousands of glowing sparks, scattered down the now empty village streets.
Each petal, a blade. Each spark, an arrow.
He nodded, impressed.
"Tsk. If that had blown up in my face, it might have spelled trouble. But such a flashy move... takes too long. Too loud. Too obvious."
He grinned smugly at Tô Mạc Tà, who could only shake her head and give a bitter smile.
She had lost.
If she'd injured him further earlier, back when he was holding back and only using Awaken Realm power, she might've stood a chance.
But now - not even a draw was possible.
It was rare for a Master to defeat a Venerated, but not unheard of. Every era birthed its share of prodigies, those "spoiled children of heaven" who defied fate and overturned the natural order. For them, striking beyond their rank was difficult, yes, but not impossible.
But for tens of thousands of years, not a single one had ever defeated a Crowned Sovereign while still in the Awakened Realm. That feat lay beyond even the most gifted, those towering figures who stood head and shoulders above their entire generation.
King's Domain was an absolute rule. For anyone below Sovereign, it was unbreakable.
Kim Giác Tử and Ngân Giác Tử also put away their treasures.
There was no point in continuing.
The three were prodigies, handpicked and heavily invested in by one of either the Four Great Sects or Eight Grand Schools. In all of Aparagodānī, even Crowned Sovereigns thought twice before crossing them, unless they were prepared to provoke the wrath of those monstrous factions.
Pride came naturally.
Though they'd heard the saying, "Without a Crown, one is no true powerhouse," a part of them resisted the idea. That's why even when Tô Mạc Tà learned the chief was a peak Crowned Sovereign, she remained calm.
After all, she had artifacts that could strike at Sovereign-level power. If she struck first, using the element of surprise to her advantage, maybe she could win.
But now, after her ultimate move was effortlessly unraveled by the King's Domain, Tô Mạc Tà finally grasped the sheer distance between her and a Sovereign. It wasn't just a matter of chi quantity, but something deeper, woven into the very fabric of the world's laws.
The village chief sat proudly atop his Imperial Throne, laughing heartily.
He relished that look - the helplessness, the reluctance, the bitter submission. Especially from these spoiled prodigies, born with silver spoons and praised since youth.
All his focus was on these three, savoring their despair.
To him, their shattered pride was sweeter than any nectar, stronger than any liquor, utterly intoxicating
That's when the two Taoists screamed in unison:
"Lạc Trần! Are you fu**ing insane?!"
They always spoke in tandem. This time, they screamed in unison. Clearly, the brothers had seen something terrifying.
The chief snapped his gaze behind.
And there was Lạc Trần.
At some point, he'd approached the bamboo tree.
His iron heart had been pierced once more, and from the wound, two celestial fires erupted, latching onto the sacred stalk.
No one had noticed.The cripple dismissed by the chief as a stray piece, a sacrificial lamb...Had upended the entire board.Now, not just the pieces, but the player himself was about to burn.
In the dark, the fire flared bright.