On the vast, windswept courtyard of the Huo Clan, the air was still charged with the residual hum of ancient formations.
Huo Yue stood alone, her neck craned back, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the colossal Profound Ark was becoming nothing more than a shimmering speck.
In a sudden, violent streak of light, it tore through the clouds and vanished, leaving behind only a fading trail of white mist and a hollow silence in her chest.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since they had met. By all logic, he should have been a stranger—a distant memory of a brief contract.
Yet, as she stood there, she felt a profound, aching longing blossoming in her heart, a sensation as sharp as a blade and as warm as a hearth.
Her hand went instinctively to her lips, still feeling the phantom heat of his kiss.
'I won't let you wait forever,' she vowed silently.
Then, the softness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, burning resolve. She didn't just want to be his fiancée in name; she wanted to be a woman who could stand in the eye of the storm beside him, a woman whose name would carry as much weight as his.
Closing her eyes, she initiated the Imperial Flame Transformation.
Deep within her dantian, a spark ignited.
The blackened, ancient Qi, blood-red and searing, began to circulate through her meridians.
For three years, these pathways had been parched, a desert devoid of life. Now, they screamed in a mixture of pain and ecstasy as the domineering Qi flooded them, reclaiming the territory that had been lost.
A faint, crimson aura flickered around her skin.
It was the unmistakable signature of the 1st Stage of Qi Gathering!
"Teacher… I want to get stronger. Whatever it takes, even if I have to burn my soul for it." she whispered into her soul.
Inside the black ring, Fairy Liu felt the sheer intensity of her disciple's will. She smiled, a glimmer of pride reflecting in her blue eyes.
"Do not worry, dear disciple. With your determination and my guidance, the 'peak' isn't just a goal, it is your destiny. But prepare yourself; the path of the Imperial Flame is paved with agony. Moreover, I can promise you this, with Imperial Flame Transformation, those so-called geniuses won't even be worthy of watching your back."
While Huo Yue began her descent into the hell of her training, the Profound Ark cut through the sky like a divine blade.
Inside the master cabin, the atmosphere was one of quiet, suffocating luxury.
Shen Haoran sat upon a throne of dragon-bone wood, his expression unreadable.
Qing'er stood behind him, her slender, calloused fingers working with practiced precision to massage the tension from his shoulders.
On the low table before him lay a stack of scrolls—intelligence reports gathered by his shadow guards, they were not his ARC's, but his mother's carefully cultivated subordinates.
At this moment, he was reviewing the details of the Regional Youth Combat Tournament.
This event was a tradition that had stood for ten thousand years, birthed by the Spirit Hall, the undisputed hegemon of the Eastern Region.
Originally a simple recruitment drive to find fresh blood, it had evolved into a massive, geopolitical meat grinder.
Every five years, the 3,000 kingdoms of the Desolate Eastern Region would compete to determine the allocation of spirit veins, cultivation resources, and political standing.
The process was grueling. Each kingdom would first hold a local "qualifying" tournament to select their five most talented youths.
These winners would then journey to the Spirit Kingdom—the holy land of the Spirit Hall—to compete on the grand stage.
Haoran flicked through the scrolls, his lips curling in disdain. As expected, the "top talents" of these kingdoms were often considered geniuses if they reached the Foundation Establishment realm by twenty.
"Foundation Establishment," Haoran muttered, his voice dripping with boredom. "You know, I have never once thought that I would hear 'genius' and 'Foundation Establishment' in the same sentence."
Is this truly the level of the 'geniuses' of this region? If so, what about those people from the Lower Worlds then?
"Young Master, we have arrived above the capital of the Cao Yin Kingdom," Qing'er informed him softly.
Haoran stood and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the ark.
Below them sprawled a city of grey stone and winding streets, centered around a fortress-like castle.
To the locals, it was a majestic capital of power and history. To Haoran, who had grown up among the floating palaces and jade towers of the Central Region, it looked... mediocre.
It looked like a cluster of mud huts built by ambitious ants.
He searched for a place to land, and eventually pointed a solitary finger toward a verdant, meticulously kept field within the royal castle's inner sanctum, probably the King's private garden.
"Land there."
Qing'er nodded, her Qi flowing into the ark's control array.
The massive vessel descended with a deafening roar, the air pressure alone shattering the windows of the nearby guard towers.
The ark's landing struts crunched down into the soft earth, obliterating rare spirit flowers and crushing exotic medicinal trees that the royal family had likely spent decades cultivating.
Neither Haoran nor Qing'er spared a glance at the destruction.
In their eyes, the King's prize garden was no different than the common weeds on a roadside.
As the heavy silver ramp hissed open, Haoran stepped out into the crisp air.
And immediately, he was met by a sea of bowed heads from a group of men and women dressed in opulent, heavy robes, likely the royalty and high ministers of Cao Yin, who were lined up in a trembling row.
At the front stood a middle-aged man with a crown of gold and emeralds, his face pale and his hands shaking as he clasped them in a respectful salute.
"G-Greetings, esteemed guest," the man stammered, his voice cracking with nerves. "I am Cao Meng, the King of this humble Cao Yin Kingdom. May I ask... are you indeed the Young Master Shen from the Central Region?"
The news had traveled faster than the ark.
Though the Eastern Region was isolated, the arrival of a "Profound Ark" and a youth of such terrifying background had sent shockwaves through the local power structures.
To a small-time king like Cao Meng, Shen Haoran wasn't just a guest; he was a walking natural disaster that could erase his bloodline with a casual nod.
But eager to build connections, Cao Meng contacted the city lord of Tan Wu to invite Haoran to watch the tournament in his kingdom.
Shen Haoran looked down at the King, his eyes cold and indifferent as he gave a single, curt nod.
Cao Meng let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a lifetime, a bright, desperate smile breaking across his face.
"We are beyond honored! We welcome you to our kingdom, Young Master. Your presence at our tournament will be a blessing that will be remembered for generations. Please, allow us to escort you to the royal palace!"
Haoran walked past the King without a word, his steps echoing on the stone path.
He wasn't interested in the King's hospitality or his desperate attempts to build a connection.
Instead, he was thinking if he can find some 'anomalies' in this tournament.
Surely, such a large tournament would be a perfect place for an anomaly to show off and slap people's faces, as they seem to enjoy doing.
Shen Haoran can never imagine doing that. After all, he isn't a masochistic who enjoyed getting verbally abused.
There might even be several heroines...hmm, if he collected the heroines in his ARC Foundation, would they also attract those anomalies?
After all, from the memories of his cousin, whenever there are heroines, there are anomalies.
"Well then, show me what you've got, little ants," Haoran whispered to the wind. "Don't let me die of boredom."