The night sky above the Celestial Sect was calm—too calm. Not a single breeze stirred the ancient pine trees lining the mountain paths, and not a single beast howled in the surrounding forests. It was the kind of silence that came before a storm, pregnant with invisible pressure.
Yet, within the heart of this silence, chaos raged elsewhere.
The ten battlefields surrounding the Celestial Sect had finally quieted. Every elder of the Celestial Sect had returned victorious, leaving behind trails of annihilated invaders. But amidst this calculated slaughter, the disciples of the sect remained untouched, untainted by the carnage.
Elder Yun Yi stood atop the central peak, eyes closed, palms pressed together in an ancient mudra. His formation—Sky-Covering Dream Veil—had successfully cast all the disciples into a deep, illusory slumber, transferring them into an independent spatial domain hidden beyond the reach of gods.
Even Lin Hai, the enigmatic youth with dormant potential, was deep in sleep. Yet within his dantian, the cluster of radiant pearl-like chips flickered. These mysterious fragments observed everything—the battles, the strategies, the flow of spiritual laws. They were more than tools; they were sentient archives, watchers in the void.
And they were not alone.
From a forgotten fissure in space, an invisible eye peered into the battlefield. Not divine, not demonic—merely curious. It saw every swing, every incantation, and every burst of elemental law from the Celestial Sect elders. It recorded their flaws, their moments of brilliance, their grasp over the Dao.
The last elder to complete his duty arrived at the main hall with a storm behind his steps—Elder Yao Jin. Known for his obsession with wealth, he stormed into the chamber like a merchant whose vault had just been looted.
"MY HALL!" he shrieked.
The other elders floated in silence, forming a circle around the ongoing battle. In the center, the Sect Leader Yuan Xian clashed violently against Chen Hai, the Half-God of the Sky Serpent Palace. Blades of divine wind tore through marble columns. Lightning screamed against protective seals. Flames curled against celestial arrays.
But Elder Yao Jin was blind to the cosmic duel. His eyes darted around the ruined hall.
"Do you see this? Cracked jade pillars. A shattered starmap ceiling! Priceless formations destroyed! I will sell that bastard's bones! I will grind his teeth into spirit dust and sell them as talismans for profit!"
He screeched for twenty whole minutes, listing every item damaged in the attack, estimating their cost, and angrily writing invisible tally marks in the air.
Finally, Chen Hai had enough.
With a roar that shattered clouds above, he raised his spear high and channeled his half-god might. The heavens trembled as a beam of spiritual destruction hurled toward Elder Yao Jin.
The beam never landed.
With a casual flick of his sleeve, Elder Yao Jin swatted the attack like one would swat a fly.
BOOM! The floor cracked beneath Chen Hai's feet.
A heavy silence descended upon the hall—thicker than the starlit sky, heavier than spiritual suppression. Chen Hai's eyes widened. Not because of the deflection, but because of what he saw next.
Nine elders hovered in silence. They didn't flinch, didn't even blink. Their eyes were locked on him—not with fury or hatred, but calm inevitability.
Chen Hai turned slowly. To his horror, the Sect Leader Yuan Xian was untouched, still standing tall in pristine white robes, not a speck of blood on his face. In contrast, the Sky Serpent Palace's heavenly fire ally, Hua Liang, lay broken in a corner—dragged in unconscious by Elder Qin Lei.
And still, one elder had yet to arrive.
Chen Hai's breath caught. His knees weakened.
The one who had just repelled his full-powered strike was a man obsessed with coin. A man who screamed about accounting errors and formation stones. A man who dealt in spirit crystal trading routes and slave market investments.
If that man could crush a half-god attack so easily—what about the other eight?
His eyes met Elder Mei Lan's—cold and calm.
Then Elder Wu Jian—grinning like death himself.
Then Elder Long Chi—holding a hammer dripping with molten metal.
Then Elder Xue Tong—her fingers oozing green poison.
Then Elder Fang Yue—feeding her panther a spirit core.
Then Elder Bai Qie—chanting softly, eyes glowing within a labyrinth of formation patterns.
Then Elder Hei Zhen—who wasn't even visible, yet whose presence hung like a dagger against his throat.
Then Elder Qin Lei—arms crossed, gaze like a thundercloud.
And at the center, Sect Leader Yuan Xian.
Chen Hai shuddered.
The air grew still as death.
From somewhere unseen, another eye watched. Not divine, not mortal. Curious. Calculating. Amused.
The Celestial Sect was no ordinary power. It was a sealed empire of monsters dressed in robes.
And now, the invaders had awakened it.