"So powerful!!"
Lu Beiyue and Dracula exchanged glances, and in each other's eyes, they saw the same weight of unease—a sense of facing an unstoppable life-and-death threat. The divine radiance exuded light energy and holy power that suppressed them in a way they could hardly resist. It felt like venomous snakes being stared down by a hawk—no telling when they would be seized and devoured.
A suffocating sense of imminent danger crawled across their backs, like a thorn in the throat.
Overwhelming. Incomparably strong.
While light and darkness are inherently opposing forces that balance each other out, in the end, the stronger cultivator holds the natural advantage. Right now, the Son of Light clearly surpassed both Lu Beiyue and Dracula in terms of cultivation and strength. This innate suppression filled them with an intense, lethal threat.
The Light Clan—a race of immense might—was said to carry the blood of the God of Light, a lineage that birthed a powerful species. Born with innate light energy, they possessed formidable restraining power against all that was evil and dark. In some respects, members of the Light Clan were like walking deities on earth—holy and powerful.
Among them, there existed a rare physique known as the Body of Divine Light (光明神体).
Born in harmony with light, once cultivated, one essentially becomes a god of light, shining upon the world and purging all darkness.
Not only did they possess a divine exterior, but their actual combat power was terrifying.
Descending from the heavens, the Son of Light landed atop the Dragon-Suppressing Platform (镇龙台). The suppressive force radiating from the platform had no effect on him whatsoever and was effortlessly neutralized.
The Dragon-Suppressing Platform—the True Dragon Stage—meant that those who could pass it would be recognized as true dragons.
Clearly, it had no effect on the Son of Light. With a single step, his eyes turned directly to the nine thrones arranged at the summit. The central one belonged to Stone Emperor, the host of the Sacred Fruit Banquet, a position no one dared contest. But the other nine thrones represented something else entirely.
They were the seats reserved only for the Kings of Heaven's Chosen (天骄王).
The Son of Light's gaze made his intentions clear: he had come to claim one of those nine thrones under the gaze of all.
Golden divine radiance spread beneath his feet, enveloping his body as he ascended steadily. In a flash, he stood before the thrones.
Without the slightest hesitation, he sat.
As soon as he sat down, golden divine light surged around him like a tidal wave. Within the light, strange chanting began to echo, and one could see countless ethereal figures appearing within it—believers, praying devoutly. These weren't illusions; they were real beings.
It was as though a divine realm had opened up, filled with countless worshippers sending out waves of belief and willpower, flowing endlessly into the Son of Light's divine body.
Shrouded in radiant light, the crushing power from the throne—meant to test one's worth—could not pierce his body. Heaven above, earth below, and the Son of Light seated in between, accompanied by prayers and hymns, created an awe-inspiring divine spectacle that filled all who watched with reverence.
He sat steadily. His body did not tremble in the slightest.
Clearly, his strength was enough to bear the throne's suppression. Regardless of whether others sensed the pressure, there was no denying—he had the power of a true King of Heaven's Chosen.
Even the Stone Emperor opened his eyes and nodded in acknowledgment.
That was the gaze of a peer recognizing another of equal status.
Only someone like the Son of Light could earn such a gesture of respect.
"He actually sat on it! The Son of Light truly held the throne! Compared to Lu Beiyue's earlier failure, this is a complete contrast—two extremes."
"So powerful... I can see believers praying within his divine light! What kind of cultivation is this? According to rumors, the divine path strengthens through faith—he must possess divine arts of conversion! Just how many believers does he have?"
"I saw both human and non-human races among those believers... Could it be that he has a technique to convert beings into followers?"
Spectators around the battlefield stared in shock and suspicion.
"Where did all those believers come from?"
This question surfaced in countless minds.
If they were real, they must have been gathered from the outside world. But how?
"Many of them... are from our Human Race," said Lian Xing, her voice solemn.
To become a believer—especially one as devout as those within the Son of Light's aura—meant giving up one's identity and soul entirely to their god. Such people no longer possessed independent thought or personality. The Son of Light had become their faith, their everything—a living god.
For those believers, it was a tragic fate.
They had completely lost themselves.
"The Fate Map (命图) condensed by the Son of Light must be deeply problematic," Yi Tianxing said coldly, taking a deep breath.
To use human beings as faith vessels—this crossed a hard line in his heart. But before drawing conclusions, he would wait for a confrontation.
"He really did sit on it..."
Lu Beiyue's pupils contracted sharply. He felt a chill in his heart.
This was not a simple matter. He had experienced it firsthand. Though part of his failure had been due to lack of preparation, his own strength was a key factor. That someone else could succeed where he failed meant that person was indeed stronger. That much could not be denied.
He said nothing further and abandoned his battle with Dracula, retreating back to Spirit Mountain, sitting halfway up.
Dracula followed suit.
Though his thoughts were in turmoil after witnessing the Son of Light seated high upon the throne, he said nothing, merely picking a seat slightly higher than Lu Beiyue's—intentionally or not.
Clearly, even now, their rivalry remained unyielding.
Lu Beiyue's eyes grew even colder.
As the Son of Light claimed his seat, it was as though the act triggered a chain reaction. Countless prodigies began arriving from all directions. Each radiated powerful auras and magnificent visions—some riding beasts, others walking on clouds, some wielding divine treasures. These were the elite of every major race, passing the Dragon-Suppressing Platform and ascending Spirit Mountain.
More and more appeared—each seemingly no weaker than the Son of Light.
A dragon clan prodigy, for example, came riding thunderclouds. His arrival brought lightning and rain, and every step in the air radiated dragon might, overwhelming all in his path. The Dragon Clan, sovereigns of all beasts, carried divine lineage and were naturally powerful.
He too claimed one of the nine thrones.
Time passed unnoticed.
One by one, the thrones on Spirit Mountain were being filled with dazzling, radiant figures.
Until eventually—all nine thrones were occupied.
Each figure shone with divine brilliance, resembling gods and demons of legend.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your trusted commentary duo—Xiaosa Ge and Hei Dashuai—are here to bring you live coverage of the Sacred Fruit Banquet!" shouted Xiaosa Ge, hovering above, voice brimming with excitement.
"That's right! With us around, you're guaranteed front-row insight into the event's highlights!" Hei added confidently.
"The Son of Light. The Azure Dragon King Ao Qing. One from the Light Clan, one from the Dragon Clan—both powerhouses with unrivaled bloodlines. It's no surprise they've secured seats. But the other seven are just as terrifying," Xiaosa Ge said, gesturing toward the thrones, where the nine elite sat.
"Exactly. The Phoenix Clan came too! That's Feng Yan, their prodigy. Her bloodline grants immortality, capable of rebirth through nirvana. And don't forget the Phoenix Divine Flame—a top-tier flame! She's not just strong—she's a stunning beauty! A true goddess of her generation," Hei added, pointing at a woman engulfed in rainbow-colored flames. Her appearance was hidden, but her divine form was breathtaking.
"Then we've got the Kirin Clan's prodigy—Qi Tianlin. Don't underestimate him! The Kirin are on par with Dragons and Phoenixes. Long ago, these three races waged a battle that shook heaven and earth. Qi Tianlin is not to be trifled with," Xiaosa Ge chimed in.
"And let's not forget the Golden Behemoth King, Meng Wudi—the undefeated warlord of the Behemoths! Behemoths are said to be invincible on land—even dragons get shredded by their claws! A true titan of the battlefield," Hei concluded.