Free Web NovelChapter 28: 28. The Ancient Ruin
The heavy, silencing wards of the staging tent hummed faintly in the background, isolating the two of us from the entire encampment.
Down on the obsidian floor, Su Rulan remained on her knees right beside my boots, her breathing still light and erratic. The pristine, dignified posture she usually maintained in front of the Inner Court disciples was completely shattered.
Her violet silk robes were heavily disheveled, the collar stained a deep, damp white, and her flushed face bore the unmistakable, messy marks of my recent release.
I looked down at her from my seat, my expression as unyielding and cold as carved stone. I reached out, my long fingers wrapping firmly around her chin to tilt her head upward, forcing her to face my gaze directly.
Pant... pant...
"You took quite a risk tonight, Rulan," I said smoothly, my voice echoing with absolute, quiet authority.
"If Qingxue had looked down, or if Mo had decided to breach the wards to present his final array charts, your entire reputation in the sect would have burned to ash."
Rulan leaned her cheek heavily into the palm of my hand, a shiver of pure ecstasy running down her spine at the harsh firmness of my grip.
Her wide, brilliant eyes looked up at me with an expression of total, unadulterated worship, entirely devoid of any shame or regret.
"Let it burn, my husband," she murmured, her voice a breathless, submissive purr, testing the forbidden title with a wicked thrill. "Hearing Qingxue preach about her lingering anger while I was beneath the table, completely consuming the very essence she denies you... it was the most intoxicating moment of my life.
Let Mo stare at the ice pavilion all day. Let my pathetic excuse for a spouse harbor his pathetic, secret obsession with your wife. It only makes this sweeter. He dreams of a single glance from Qingxue, while I willingly kneel in the shadows to serve my true master."
Rustle...
She shifted closer, resting her hands against my knees as she looked at the heavy, damp stains on her own silk robes. A brilliant, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a stark contrast to the ruined state of her face.
"You are the only one for me in this sect, Jianxiao," she whispered reverently.
RUUUMBLE... KRA-KOOOM!
Before I could issue another command, a massive, deafening explosion of spiritual energy shattered the quiet of the night. The obsidian floor beneath my boots heaved violently.
The silencing wards of the tent flickered and died as a terrifying column of crimson light pierced the sky directly above the canyon.
The spatial gateway to the ancient ruins had forcibly torn itself open hours before dawn.
Swish... hummm...
Instantly, the survival instincts of an Inner Court Elder overrode Rulan’s daze. She scrambled backward, her hands flashing through a rapid series of cleansing seals.
The pearlescent stains vanished from her skin and violet silk robes in a burst of purifying light. By the time she stood up, her flushed face had cooled into a mask of dignified, aristocratic alarm. The depraved, submissive woman was gone, perfectly replaced by the authoritative Elder Su.
We stepped out of the tent simultaneously. Outside, the staging ground was in absolute chaos, illuminated by the blood-red glow of the ruptured spatial gate.
Clank... clatter... shing!
Cutting through the panic, the sharp, disciplined sound of heavy armor echoed across the perimeter. Lu Mushuang, our daughter and the Vanguard Commander, strode rapidly toward the central command point.
Her pristine silver breastplate caught the crimson light, and her long, dark hair whipped wildly in the unnatural wind generated by the portal.
She stopped in front of Qingxue, who had just emerged from the adjacent pavilion, her ice-white hair glowing faintly with active cultivation arrays.
"Mother," Mushuang reported, her voice sharp and commanding, carrying the same unyielding authority I possessed. "The guardian arrays collapsed prematurely. The spatial vortex is stabilizing, but it will not hold for the planned duration. The vanguard must enter immediately to secure the bridgehead."
Qingxue looked at our daughter, her crystalline eyes softening just a fraction. She reached out, her pale hand resting gently on Mushuang’s silver-clad shoulder.
"The starting point will be incredibly volatile, Mushuang," Qingxue said, her voice carrying a mother’s tight, controlled worry.
"The spatial tear means the Great Three Sects and the smaller opportunistic factions have likely already rushed the entry zone. Do not let them bait you into early skirmishes. Wait for your father to establish absolute dominance before you advance the frontline."
"Understood, Mother," Mushuang nodded sharply, her hand resting on the hilt of her heavy broadsword. She turned her gaze toward me, offering a crisp, respectful salute.
"Father, the vanguard awaits your lead."
I walked past Qingxue, the heavy aura of my supreme authority effortlessly parting the crowd of panicking disciples. I paused just beside my wife, looking down at her perfect, frosty features.
"Secure the outer perimeter, Qingxue," I commanded smoothly, my voice steady over the roaring wind of the portal. "Do not let anyone follow until I send the signal."
Qingxue met my gaze, the bitter resentment from her earlier speech completely buried beneath her duty to the sect. She gave a single, rigid nod. "Return safely, Jianxiao."
Step...
As I moved toward the massive, swirling vortex of the ruins, my eyes swept across the gathered elders. Mo stood near the rear, frantically adjusting his array compasses while sneaking nervous, longing glances toward my wife. He was pathetic.
My gaze shifted smoothly to his right, landing directly on Su Rulan.
She stood tall and elegant in her violet robes, barking orders to the Inner Court disciples. Yet, the moment my eyes locked onto hers, her commanding facade briefly slipped.
She offered me a deep, formal bow that appeared entirely respectful to the rest of the sect. But in the dark depths of her eyes, I saw the lingering, desperate hunger of a woman completely bound to my will, silently promising to serve her true husband the moment the shadows fell again.
Vooosh... Kraka-thooom!
Without a backward glance, I stepped directly into the crimson portal, my daughter and the heavy infantry of the vanguard marching closely behind me.
The spatial vortex swallowed us whole, spitting us out seconds later with a violent crack of displaced air. We landed smoothly on the sprawling, cracked stone plateau that served as the ancient realm’s starting point.
The dense, primordial miasma hung heavy in the air, a thick, spiritual fog that limited vision, but it was entirely eclipsed by the staggering volume of cultivators already filling the massive underground cavern.
Clash... shout... clatter!
Thousands of figures were gathered in tense, heavily armed clusters. The grand, imposing banners of the Great Three Sects billowed arrogantly in the stale wind, surrounded by a chaotic sea of smaller sects and unaffiliated rogue cultivators greedily eyeing the sealed inner gates.
The deafening din of shouting voices, drawn weapons, and shifting formations echoed loudly off the towering cavern walls, promising immediate bloodshed over the prime staging positions.
I did not release a single ounce of my spiritual pressure. I simply stood at the edge of the plateau, my hands resting lightly behind my back, my face an unreadable mask of supreme, aristocratic calm.
I observed the chaotic masses like a scholar studying a colony of frantic, insignificant insects.
Through the shifting miasma, the pinnacle talents of the younger generation were clearly making their presence known, aggressively asserting their dominance over the starting zone.
Shiiing...
Directly beneath the azure banner of the Severing Heavens Sect, their celebrated Sword Son, Ling Bai, stood with his weapon half-drawn.
His body radiated an unyielding, arrogant sword intent that kept a dozen rogue cultivators backed against a stone pillar. He carried himself with the absolute certainty of a predator, his sharp eyes dismissing anyone who did not wear a sect uniform.
Fwshh... crackle...
A few dozen paces away, beneath the crimson flags of the Scorching Sun Pavilion, the violent, explosive flames of their Crown Prince illuminated the dark stone.
Yan Lie was a legendary hothead, loudly berating a smaller faction’s elder, his fiery cultivation rings hovering aggressively behind his back to emphasize his every word.
Hummm...
And hovering just above the fray was the untouchable Holy Maiden of the Ethereal Lotus Palace. Hua Muxi, a peerless beauty surrounded by floating, illusory silk ribbons, watched the squabbling masses with deep disdain.
The ethereal fog masking her features gave her an aura of divine superiority, completely detached from the dirt and grime of the common cultivators below.
These three were the absolute apex of the new era, prodigies who commanded the worship of millions. In any other domain, they were untouchable dragons.
Rustle... whisper...
It started near the portal. A few rogue cultivators turned their heads, their eyes widening as they recognized the heavy silver armor of my vanguard and the pristine, imposing figure leading them.
The whispers spread through the crowd like a virulent plague. They did not need to feel my spiritual pressure to know exactly who had just stepped onto the plateau. The sheer, terrifying weight of my reputation alone was enough.
Hush...
The chaotic shouting began to die out in cascading waves. The ringing of drawn steel ceased entirely.
Ling Bai paused mid-sentence. His sharp eyes darted toward the portal, and the moment he saw me, his arrogant posture instantly vanished.
He slid his sword back into its scabbard with a sharp click, taking a rapid, nervous step back into the shadow of his sect’s banner.
Yan Lie’s loud boasting died in his throat. The fiery rings behind his back flickered and dimmed to a dull ember as he recognized the man who had once slaughtered an entire demon sect without breaking a sweat. He lowered his head, completely stripping himself of his usual blazing pride.
Even the graceful Hua Muxi lost her ethereal composure. She drifted quickly down to the cracked floor, her floating ribbons going entirely still as she bowed her head respectfully, desperate not to draw my attention.
Clank...
Beside me, Lu Mushuang let out a soft, mocking scoff. Her heavy silver boots struck the stone as she stepped forward, her hand resting lazily on the pommel of her broadsword.
She looked at Ling Bai, Yan Lie, and Hua Muxi with eyes as cold and aristocratic as my own, her lips curling into a haughty, victorious smirk.
"Pathetic," Mushuang stated quietly, though her voice carried easily in the sudden, suffocating silence.
"They squabble over scraps of stone before the gate is even open."
I did not offer the trembling prodigies a second glance. My gaze remained fixed solely on the massive, rune-covered bronze gates looming in the dark distance.
"The path is clear," I stated smoothly, my tone completely devoid of any interest in the masses flanking our route.
Shuffle... scrape...
Without a single command given, the wave of absolute panic finally broke the gathered crowd. Like a sea parting before a descending god, the thousands of cultivators frantically scrambled out of the way.
The Great Three Sects rapidly pulled their disciples back, clearing the central pathway purely out of psychological dread. Within mere seconds, a perfectly straight, wide avenue opened up through the sea of people.
"Advance the vanguard, Mushuang," I ordered calmly. "It is time to shatter the ancient seal."
