The Western Region became a playground for a storm it could not comprehend. Yan Wuhe, now radiating the terrifying pressure of an Immortal Emperor,
swept through the lands like a celestial gale. His divine sense, sharpened by the primal instincts of the Immortal Wolf, blanketed every city, every valley, and every hidden grotto of the Solaris Kingdom.
Yet, ironically, his very obsession became his blindfold. Because Huai had previously used his primordial authority to weave a "Void " around the Nine Immortal Peaks, the Eternal Sect did not merely look hidden,
it ceased to exist in Wuhe's spatial perception. Frustrated, his obsidian eyes burning with a mix of longing and rage, Wuhe concluded that the "Veiled Sovereign" must have already left this backwater region for the more prosperous Central or Northern Star Fields.
With a roar that shattered the clouds, Wuhe vanished into the upper atmosphere, his pursuit taking him far beyond the horizon just as the person he sought was settling back into his throne.
Back within the silent grandeur of the Eternal Hall, Huai stood alone. The cosmic nebulae beneath the obsidian floor swirled lazily, mirroring his calm state of mind.
He was aware of the "storm" that had just passed over his mountains, but he didn't even look up.
"System," he whispered, his voice resonating with a frequency that made the very air hum,
"Release the reward. And this time, block the commotion. I've had enough galactic drama for one day."
The System, usually prone to back-talk, remained uncharacteristically silent—acting more like a loyal steward fulfilling the command of its true master. A barrier of absolute "Nothingness" descended over the Eternal Peak,
isolating it from the laws of the universe, ensuring that the impending breakthrough would not alert the 13 Sovereigns or the prying eyes of the Federation.
Then, the reward hit. It wasn't an explosion of power, but a silent, total restructuring of his existence. As his cultivation base surged back to the Divine Sovereign Peak, Huai's physical form underwent a hallowing refinement. His long, raven-black hair took on a deep,
divine luster, shimmering as if woven from the silk of a newborn galaxy. His skin, already like white jade, became so smooth and translucent it seemed to be made of solidified moonlight. Most strikingly, his light brown eyes flared into a brilliant,
molten gold for a fraction of a second ,a flash of the Primordial Origin, before settling back into their gentle, deceptive brown. He stood there, no longer just a man or even a cultivator, but an ethereal manifestation of nature's peak beauty.
Every breath he took drew in the laws of the world, and every movement left a faint trail of stardust in the air, marking his return to his true, undisputed height.
With a lazy flick of his wrist, Huai finalized the sect's new status. A shimmering, invisible veil, woven from the same "Primordial Origin" essence that birthed the universe, settled over the entire Nine Immortal Peaks.
This was not a mere formation; it was a conceptual boundary. To the rest of the galaxy, the mountain range was now a blank spot in reality. Only Goddess Nexus, by virtue of Huai's specific permission, could bypass this veil, and even then, she would only see the "illusion" Huai designed for her.
an image of a modest, 8th-tier sect slowly growing in the frontier. Satisfied with the silence, Huai sat back on his throne and picked up his tea, the "Universal Forbidden Secret" now perfectly tucked away behind a curtain of his own making.
Deep within the heart of the Eternal Hall, the void itself seemed to ripple as the final part of the system's reward manifested. A pillar of pure, pearlescent light descended,
and from its center, the Eternal Sword drifted into Huai's reach. The blade was a masterwork of celestial craftsmanship that left even the Divine Sovereign momentarily breathless. Its sheath was carved from a single piece of prehistoric white jade,
intricately inlaid with golden filigree that pulsed like the veins of a living god. As Huai's slender fingers closed around the hilt, he felt a connection that transcended space and time, as if the weapon had been waiting for his touch since the dawn of the first era.
He slowly unsheathed the blade, revealing a length of pure "Origin Metal" that shimmered like liquid silver. It was so impossibly sharp that the mere reflection of the edge seemed to slice through the surrounding light,
yet it radiated a sturdy, eternal presence that felt as though it could anchor the entire galaxy.
Huai held the silver blade aloft, watching the cosmic nebulae of the hall dance across its mirror-like surface. With a graceful turn of his wrist, he executed a few testing moves;
the sword didn't just move through the air it sang, leaving behind delicate trails of white starlight that lingered in the void. There was a haunting,
ethereal beauty to the way the white jade hilt contrasted with his own translucent skin. After a moment of quiet admiration, a soft, knowing smile graced his lips.
"From this day forth," he murmured, his golden eyes reflecting the blade's brilliance, "you shall be known as Taichu Baihua—the Primordial White Radiance."
The instant the name left his lips, the sword erupted in a high-pitched, melodic hum, a joyful sword-cry that vibrated through the very foundations of the nine peaks.
It wasn't just a weapon anymore; it was the legendary partner of a Divine Sovereign, its spirit awakened and bound forever to the one who created the very origin it was forged from.
While the Nine Immortal Peaks of the Eternal Sect basked in a sacred,
golden silence protected by a veil that turned the entire mountain range into a phantom in the eyes of the universe the world outside was descending into absolute chaos.
Within the sect, the air had become so saturated with divine Qi that even the flowers in the valleys began to bloom with spiritual intelligence, and the disciples felt their foundations harden into diamond-like perfection.
Huai sat atop his throne, the Taichu Baihua resting across his knees, its white-jade hilt glowing softly as it pulsed in synchronization with his Divine Sovereign heartbeat.
To those inside, it was the birth of a paradise; to the rest of the galaxy, it was a terrifying void where a power beyond comprehension was quietly sharpening its edge.
Far across the regions, the atmosphere was anything but serene. Yan Wuhe, the Immortal Emperor whose shadow could darken entire star systems, was on the verge of a spiritual collapse.
His obsidian eyes were bloodshot, and his roar of frustration leveled a mountain range in the Northern reaches as his divine sense failed for the thousandth time to find even a trace of the sky-blue robes. "Where are you?!"
he hissed, his voice trembling with a desperation that bordered on madness. His inner wolf let out a continuous, mournful howl that echoed through his soul, a primal grief that no amount of power could soothe. For the first time in two lives,
the Great Divine Emperor felt small, realizing that the one person he truly desired was a ghost he didn't have the authority to even name.
Inside the gold-leafed council chambers of the Great Solaris Kingdom, the atmosphere was suffocating, thick with the scent of burnt spiritual incense and the frantic energy of men who realized their world had changed overnight.
King Zhao Feng, a man whose Void Refinement Level 3 aura usually commanded absolute obedience, sat atop his sun-etched throne, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests. Before him,
the holographic display of the Nexus Net glowed a warning crimson, flashing the words: [ACCESS DENIED: 7th-Tier Federal Immunity Protocol Active].
"It is a death sentence! Silence is a death sentence!" barked Elder Mo Kun, the eldest member of the Council,
his long white beard trembling with every word.
"We are sitting in the shadow of a 7th-tier Citizen, a rank reserved for the progenitors of 7th-tier sects in the Central Star Field! If this person felt the need to vaporize the Zhao family like a common nuisance, what makes you think they won't do the same to this palace if we step out of line?"
Elder Han, the Royal Strategic Advisor, adjusted his silk robes with shaking hands, his voice thin and sharp.
"Mo Kun is right. But the terror isn't just in their power—it's in the anonymity. We don't even know which mountain they claim! Our scouts returned from the Emerald Mist Valley reporting nothing but fog and empty air.
How can a powerhouse that commands the attention of Goddess Nexus herself simply... vanish? It's as if the Western Region has given birth to a ghost that can swallow kingdoms."
"Enough of your cowardice!" countered General Iron-Clad, the kingdom's highest military commander, though his own eyes betrayed his unease. "If they are a 7th-tier citizen, they are bound by Federal Law. They cannot simply slaughter us without cause."
"Cause?" Elder Bi, the Keeper of Records, let out a dry, hysterical laugh.
"General, did you not read the encrypted footnote? The Zhao family was linked to the Nether Bat race. The 'cause' was treason against humanity. If this unknown titan decides that our Kingdom was 'negligent' in allowing such a cancer to grow under our noses, Goddess Nexus won't just stand by,
she will provide the executioner's blade! We aren't debating politics anymore; we are debating how to beg for our lives from a neighbor we cannot even see."
King Zhao Feng finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that silenced the bickering.
"The Princess reports the youth was in white... elegant, cold, and possessing wealth that shames our national treasury. If he is but a disciple, then the master behind him is someone we cannot afford to offend, nor can we afford to ignore. We will not send the army. We will not send scouts.
I will prepare a gift the 'Heart of the Sun' jade and we will wait for them to reveal themselves. Until then, Solar City is under a state of absolute martial law. Any noble caught breathing too loudly near the ruins of the Zhao estate will be executed by my own hand. We will not be the reason this Kingdom falls."
While the highest towers of Solar City vibrated with the panicked shouts of kings and the frantic calculations of elders, the "culprit" they sought was a world away in spirit.
Lin Feng stood upon a weathered stone balcony overlooking the silent, silver-drenched valley, his white robes catching the ethereal glow of a midnight moon. To the Great Solaris Kingdom, he was a terrifying enigma, a 7th-tier reaper who had erased a lineage without a second thought; but here, in the solitude of the night,
the sharpness of his sword intent had softened into a poignant, aching vulnerability. He drew the silver butterfly pendant from his robes, its polished surface reflecting the lunar light like a teardrop of the stars.
As his thumb traced the delicate carvings, the faces of trembling kings and the screams of traitors faded into insignificance, replaced by the hauntingly beautiful memory of a single smile that had anchored his soul through the darkest years of his training.