Free Web NovelChapter 110: Chapter 110: The Face-Slapping Feast
The Great Feast Hall of the Leopard Sect was an ancient, sprawling chamber built from heavy dark blocks of spiritual ironwood that had been polished until they shone like mirrors.
Dozens of long banquet tables were arranged in a wide horseshoe pattern, loaded with rare spirit fruits, roasted mountain beasts, and jars of burning, high-grade spiritual wine.
Yet, despite the abundance of food, not a single person inside the hall had touched their chopsticks. The atmosphere was completely frozen, thick with an aggressive, silent confrontation.
The Roc Clan delegation occupied the left side of the hall. Blue Sky sat prominently at the head of his table, his posture completely relaxed, leaning back against his silk cushions with a cup of wine dangling lazily from his fingers.
The two Roc elders sat behind him, their sharp eyes scanning the room with obvious contempt, their high-grade spiritual pressure continuously leaking into the air to suffocate the younger leopard disciples sitting opposite them.
"Chief Leader Bai Feng," Blue Sky said, his voice smooth and dripping with artificial warmth as he set his wine cup down with a sharp ’clack’ against the table. "The feast is truly magnificent, but the main seat at the center of the high dais remains completely empty. We have been sitting here for nearly an hour, yet your supposed newly awakened powerhouse has still refused to show his face. Is this the traditional hospitality of the leopard tribe, or is your young master simply too terrified to face senior cultivators from the high ridges?"
One of the Roc elders let out a loud, deeply condescending snort, swirling his wine with a sharp sneer. "Young Master Blue Sky speaks the absolute truth. In our Roc Clan, any youth who achieves a breakthrough must immediately bow before their seniors to receive judgment. For your sect’s genius to hide in the back rooms like a frightened maidservant is a supreme embarrassment to the feline lineage."
The kneeling leopard elders felt their faces burn with a mixture of intense rage and suffocating humiliation.
They wanted to bark back, but under the heavy, crushing pressure of the two Roc seniors, their vocal cords felt completely paralyzed.
Elder Shen sat near the middle line, his face a smooth, unreadable mask as he took a slow sip of his wine.
Beside him, Shen Mao adjusted her lavender silk skirts, her sharp eyes fixed on the empty high throne with a look of pure, vindictive anticipation.
She couldn’t wait to see the cold, arrogant Wang get thoroughly dragged down from his high horse by the powerful Roc masters. freeweɓnovel.cøm
Before the Roc elder could throw another insult, the massive, three-ton ironwood doors at the back of the high dais smoothly, silently glided open.
A sudden, absolute silence fell over the entire grand hall. The air inside the room didn’t just turn cold; it felt as though an invisible, solid block of glacial ice had instantly dropped from the ceiling, completely freezing the spiritual oceans of every single person in the room within a fraction of a second.
Wang walked through the threshold.
He didn’t wear magnificent golden robes or carry a glittering spiritual weapon.
He wore a simple, sweeping black robe that flowed loosely around his broad, sculpted shoulders, his long dark hair cascading down his back like a river of silk.
His feet touched the polished ironwood floor with slow, perfectly measured steps that did not emit a single sound.
His face was a mask of absolute, timeless indifference, and his piercing crimson eyes were fixed straight ahead, completely ignoring the rows of tables.
As Wang approached the central high throne, the power dynamic in the room shattered.
Clan Leader Bai Feng, who had been sitting at the highest side seat, immediately stood up, tucking his long golden sleeves into his belt as he bowed his head slightly, willingly stepping down to stand at the right side of the dais.
The four old sages suddenly materialized from the shadows behind the throne, their ancient grey robes smelling of dust as they stood like silent, lethal statues behind their leader.
Wang casually sat down on the massive stone throne, resting one broad elbow on the carved armrest as he leaned his jaw against his knuckles.
His posture was the ultimate definition of lazy, low-effort superiority. He looked down at the Roc delegation as if he were looking at a swarm of common mountain dust.
Blue Sky’s hawkish eyes narrowed, a sudden spike of irritation rising in his chest at Wang’s complete lack of acknowledgment. He stood up from his cushions, his navy-blue robes rustling loudly as he stepped into the center of the hall, his aura flaring with intense pride.
"So, you are finally willing to crawl out of the back room," Blue Sky sneered, lifting his chin as he pointed a silver-trimmed finger directly at the throne. "I am Blue Sky, the Young Master of the Divine Azure Roc Clan. My speed is unmatched in the eastern ridges, and my bloodline has already achieved the triple-feather stabilization. I came today to personally test if your lower-realm awakening is actually. . . "
"A noisy bird," Wang spoke, his voice smooth, low, and perfectly calm.
The words were simple, but the moment they left his lips, Wang opened his eyes fully, his crimson irises flaring with a sudden, unyielding primordial light.
An absolute, terrifying wave of ancient Patriarch pressure erupted from his body like a volcanic explosion. The sheer weight of the aura didn’t just fill the hall—it shattered every single piece of spiritual glassware on the tables into absolute dust within a single millisecond.
The heavy ironwood support pillars of the hall groaned loudly, several deep cracks snaking up the stone walls as the world itself seemed to bend beneath his authority.
The two arrogant Roc elders didn’t even have the time to raise their hands to defend themselves.
Their eyes went completely wide with raw, primal terror as the invisible pressure slammed down on their shoulders like a falling mountain range.
With a series of sharp, bone-cracking thuds, both old men were instantly blasted out of their ironwood chairs, their knees slamming into the hard floor so hard the stone tiles shattered into dust beneath them.
Their faces turned an ash-grey, and they were forced flat onto their stomachs, their foreheads pinned to the dirt by a weight they couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
In the center of the hall, Blue Sky’s arrogant speech cut off into a suffocating, strangled gasp.
His knees buckled instantly, the sheer velocity of the pressure driving him down until his hands slammed into the broken tiles to support his weight.
His chest heaved frantically as he tried to draw a single breath of air, but the atmosphere inside the hall had become completely solid, pressing against his ribs until his vision began to turn black at the edges. His proud, silver-feathered clothes were instantly soaked through with a cold, frantic sweat.
"This... this isn’t a young master’s power..." one of the Roc elders wailed from the floor, his voice a trembling, broken squeak as he struggled to lift his head even a millimeter. "This... this is an ancient ancestor... A primordial king!"
Every single person on the leopard tribe’s side was frozen in pure, fanatical worship.
The lower disciples who had been suffocated by the Roc elders just minutes ago were now staring at the throne with wide, glistening eyes, their hearts bursting with a supreme, intoxicating pride.
Elder Shen’s hand shook so violently that he dropped his wooden wine cup, his heart sinking into a completely bottomless abyss of fear. Beside him, Shen Mao’s face had gone utterly, completely pale.
The greedy, ambitious smile she had been holding vanished, replaced by a cold, paralyzing dread that made her whole body shiver.
She realized that the man sitting on that throne was not a genius who could be seduced or manipulated—he was a merciless, godlike monster who could crush her entire existence with a single blink of his eye.
Wang remained perfectly still on the high throne, his chin still resting casually on his knuckles as he looked down at the three trembling birds pinning themselves to the floor in his courtyard.
His face did not carry a single trace of anger or excitement; it was entirely, terrifyingly indifferent.
"You came to offer guidance to my tribe?" Wang murmured smoothly, his voice dropping into a flat, deadly whisper that echoed through the shattered silence of the hall. "A single scratch from your feathered mounts will turn your entire eastern ridge into a graveyard. Take your trash, leave my mountain boundaries within ten breaths, or your blood will be the primary dish for my disciples’ lunch tomorrow."
The moment the pressure eased by a fraction, the two Roc elders didn’t even bother to look at Blue Sky.
They scrambled off the floor like frightened mice, grabbing their young master by his navy-blue sleeves as they frantically dragged his trembling, thoroughly humiliated body toward the exit.
Within three seconds, the deafening, panicked screeches of their azure rocs echoed from the plaza outside as they fled into the clouds at their absolute maximum speed.
Wang slowly closed his eyes, his crimson energy humming softly as the hall fell into absolute, reverent silence.
The face-slapping of the Roc Clan was complete, but as he sat beneath the fanatical worship of his tribe, that massive, familiar ache inside his chest rose once again, louder and more painful than before.
He looked down at his palms, his thoughts drifting far past the high peaks of the Upper Realm, driven by that silent, magnetic pull toward the missing piece of his soul down below.
