Ryuzaki Haruto stood at the threshold of the swirling gray vortex, his eyes fixed on a figure in the distance. He wasn't glaring with animosity or sizing up an opponent. Instead, his gaze was tranquil, analytical, and unnerving.
He looked at Fujiwara Gen—the Little Saint with the golden right arm—the exact same way a master chef inspects a slab of premium Wagyu beef on a chopping block.
'A Saint King's Hand Bone,' Haruto mused internally. 'A decent appetizer before the main course of the Secret Realm.'
Across the clearing, Gen felt a sudden, inexplicable chill run down his spine. He glanced toward Haruto. The Divine Son was shrouded in a hazy, ethereal mist of Dao Rhymes, making it impossible to gauge his true cultivation base or read his expression. It was that very indistinct, untouchable aura that made Gen's instincts scream in warning.
Deciding not to provoke the anomaly directly, Gen's gaze shifted to the young man standing dutifully behind Haruto.
A playful, mocking smile curled Gen's lips. He locked eyes with Ryuzaki Kenji and lazily tapped his own golden arm, a silent reminder of the humiliating three-move defeat he had handed the Ryuzaki Sequence a year ago.
Kenji's face darkened instantly. His knuckles popped as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
"I really want to drag that smug face across the dirt," Kenji hissed through gritted teeth. Gen didn't dare provoke Haruto directly, so he chose the soft target instead to stroke his own ego.
"Patience," Haruto said calmly, not even turning his head. His voice was a cool breeze that immediately extinguished Kenji's hot temper. "A dog barking behind a fence is not worth your anger. Let him walk into the slaughterhouse first. We will discuss his punishment when we reach the core of the Supreme Treasure Trove."
If Gen had kept his head down and acted obediently, Haruto might have only stolen his fortuitous encounters and spared his life. But since the Little Saint insisted on flaunting his arrogance, Haruto had no choice but to teach him the fundamental laws of the food chain.
"Let us proceed," Haruto commanded.
The Slaughter in the Gray Fog
The elite geniuses of the Immortal Lineages were the first to cross into the Great Desolate Forest. Following closely behind them were the prodigies of the top-tier sects, trying to ride their coattails.
The Chief Disciple of the Way of the Void Sect led his juniors right behind the Ryuzaki delegation. The Grand Elder had warned them strictly: The safest place in this hellhole is right behind the Ryuzaki Divine Son's shadow.
They quickly realized the wisdom of those words.
ROAR!
The gray fog parted violently. A colossal Masked Bear, driven utterly mad by the alien mist, charged out of the shadows. Standing over thirty feet tall, it looked like a moving mountain of black muscle and bristling fur. Its eyes wept black blood, and its aura reeked of rotting spiritual energy.
"Watch out!" a rogue cultivator screamed.
The bear swung a massive paw. The air shrieked as the claws tore through the space, instantly pureeing three disciples of a first-rate sect who were at the Divine Bridge Stage. They didn't even have time to scream before they were reduced to a rain of blood and meat.
The Chief Disciple of the Void Sect froze in terror as the bear pivoted, its crimson eyes locking onto the Ryuzaki group.
Haruto didn't break his stride.
He casually raised his right hand and pushed it forward. He didn't use any named technique or channel elemental Mana. It was just a burst of pure, unadulterated physical force driven by the Ancient Sacred Body.
A magnificent, golden palm print manifested in the air, glowing like a miniature sun in the dreary fog.
BOOM!
With a deafening explosion that rattled the teeth of everyone present, the golden palm struck the Masked Bear. The thirty-foot-tall monster didn't just die; it detonated. Its reinforced bones and thick hide were vaporized, leaving behind nothing but a fine red mist settling into the dirt.
Haruto calmly lowered his hand, his white robes completely untouched by the carnage. "Continue forward."
Kenji, Ryuzaki Yukino, and Minamoto Sayaka barely blinked. They were already desensitized to his overwhelming power. But the Void Sect disciples following them swallowed hard, their legs trembling.
"He killed a mutated Masked Bear with a casual wave..." the Chief Disciple muttered in awe. "That thing would have required a team of our Elders to subdue!"
The Little Saint and the Cloaked Dark Horse
Of course, Haruto wasn't the only one displaying overwhelming efficiency.
A mile to the east, Fujiwara Gen was carving his own path. He walked with his hands behind his back, looking bored. Whenever a beast lunged from the fog, the golden runes on his exposed right arm flared to life.
With a mere flick of his finger, a beam of concentrated holy light would pierce the fog, effortlessly bifurcating any monster in its path.
"The Little Saint of the Fujiwara Clan truly has the posture of an Emperor!" a spectator from a vassal sect praised loudly. "He suppresses the horde without even breaking a sweat."
"It's the power of the Saint King's Bone," another whispered enviously. "He doesn't even need to use martial skills. The bone itself possesses earth-shattering power."
While the prodigies of the Immortal Lineages flaunted their heritage, a surprising dark horse emerged from the ranks of the rogue cultivators.
"Huh? Who is that guy in the cloak?"
Several cultivators noticed a lone figure wrapped in a tattered gray cloak. He moved like a phantom. When a pack of mutated dire wolves surrounded him, he didn't panic. He threw a simple punch, and a burst of roaring Azure Dragon Qi exploded from his fist, shattering the wolves into pieces.
"What terrifying physical power! Is he a hidden genius from a reclusive sect?"
From a distance, Haruto paused. His golden eyes flicked toward the cloaked figure through the dense fog. The corners of his lips curled upward into a smile that was equal parts amused and sinister.
'Ah. The crop is growing beautifully,' Haruto thought, recognizing the familiar aura of the Azure Dragon.
It was Prince Seiryu.
Haruto knew exactly what Seiryu was doing. The fallen prince was hiding his identity, playing the role of the underdog, waiting to strike it rich in the Secret Realm so he could dramatically reveal his identity and crush the arrogant Divine Son. It was a classic, almost painfully predictable script.
'He thinks he is a hunter hiding in the brush,' Haruto chuckled internally. 'He believes he is playing a game of 4D chess on the second floor, while I am oblivious on the ground floor. He doesn't realize I own the entire building.'
Haruto intentionally looked away, deciding not to swat the fly just yet.
"Seiryu," Haruto murmured under his breath. "I will give you one last chance to dream. Fatten yourself up on the treasures of this realm. When it comes time for the harvest, do not blame me for being thorough."
Beneath his hood, Seiryu felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. He shattered another beast, his eyes locked on the deepest part of the forest.
'My chance is coming,' Seiryu thought, his heart pounding with excitement. 'Haruto... once I fuse with the Ancient Dragon Bone and master the Fifth Stage of the Azure Dragon Transformation, I will step on your face in front of the entire world!'
The Chasm and the Ancient Remnant
As the expedition pressed deeper, the casualty rate skyrocketed.
For the rogue cultivators and minor sect disciples, the Great Desolate Forest was a meat grinder. Unless they were following an Immortal Lineage, they were torn apart by the relentless, fog-crazed beasts.
"We are simply not playing the same game as the Supreme Clans," a surviving rogue cultivator wept, looking at the distant, glowing figure of Haruto. "He walks through hell like it's his private garden."
Before long, the Ryuzaki group broke through the outer perimeter and arrived at the core of the Secret Realm.
The terrain ended abruptly. Stretching out before them was a massive, pitch-black chasm—a jagged wound in the earth that looked like it had been carved by a god's sword.
The eerie Gray Fog was billowing up from the depths of this chasm like steam from a boiling kettle.
Kenji, Yukino, and the others immediately activated their Mana shields, creating luminous barriers to repel the encroaching mist. The fog hissed as it made contact with their shields, corroding the Mana rapidly.
"This fog... it's draining my spiritual reserves just by touching my shield," Kenji grunted, his face paling slightly.
Beside them, Sayaka utilized her Dao Embryo, wrapping herself in a cocoon of azure nature energy that neutralized the corruption.
Haruto, however, did absolutely nothing.
He stood at the edge of the chasm with no shield, no aura flare, and no defensive artifacts. The Gray Fog swirled around him, but the moment it touched his white robes, it evaporated with a sharp sizzle.
His Ancient Sacred Body was the pinnacle of Yang energy. His golden blood was anathema to all things evil, Yin, and corrupt. The dark matter fragment didn't just fail to harm him; it actively retreated from his skin like a frightened animal.
"The treasure is down there," Haruto looked into the abyss. "But it seems the environment has bred some nasty gatekeepers."
THUD... THUD... THUD...
The ground shook violently.
From the shadows of the chasm wall, a monstrous silhouette leaped into the air. It crashed onto the cliff edge, shattering the rock and sending boulders tumbling into the void.
It was a nightmare given flesh. A gargantuan ape with jet-black fur that seemed to absorb the light. It had a single, jagged horn protruding from its skull, and two leathery, bat-like wings folded against its back.
"An Ancient Remnant!" Kenji shouted, drawing his sword. "The Horned Demon Ape!"
The rogue cultivators who had just caught up screamed and scrambled backward.
Ancient Remnants were beasts that carried a trace of the primordial bloodlines from the dawn of the world. They were exponentially stronger, faster, and more durable than modern spirit beasts.
This Demon Ape radiated an oppressive pressure that suffocated the air. It was at the Unity Stage—a full major realm above Haruto, who was currently at the Divine Bridge Stage. In the cultivation world, a beast at the Unity Stage was already a nightmare. An Ancient Remnant at the Unity Stage was a natural disaster.
ROAR!
The Demon Ape beat its chest, the sound like war drums. The Gray Fog had seeped into its brain, turning its eyes into glowing red orbs of pure malice. It locked its gaze on the brightest source of energy in the area: Haruto.
With a flap of its fleshy wings, the Ape launched itself like a black meteor straight at the Divine Son, its massive fists raised to crush him into paste.
Outside the Secret Realm.
High above the forest, the Elders watched the broadcast on the Mirror of Heaven.
Seeing the terrifying Demon Ape charge at Haruto, the Elders of the other factions reacted differently.
Fujiwara Kage, the protector of the Little Saint, stroked his beard and smiled smoothly.
"Ah. An Ancient Remnant at the Unity Stage," Elder Fujiwara said, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "It seems the Ryuzaki Clan's precious Divine Son has run into a wall. What a pity if the pride of your clan falls at the very first hurdle."
Ryuzaki Kenshin didn't even look at the Fujiwara Elder. He kept his eyes on the mirror, a faint, almost pitying smirk on his own face.
"A wall?" Kenshin chuckled softly. "Elder Fujiwara, you should worry less about my grandson, and more about whether that ape will leave enough pieces for us to study."