They had waited for this moment for decades.
He was strong. Refined. Someone who had seen empires rise and fall and lived through it all.
He wanted to see them—the ones who broke the rules. The ones who flipped everything upside down.
The grand hall filled fast. Floating lanterns, quiet buzz of disciples gathering. Everyone waiting for the meeting.
A sect elder stepped forward.
And screwed it all up.
"You stand before the Supreme Sect's Leader," the elder said, all proud and dramatic. "Kneel."
Silence.
Arthur blinked.
Camila didn't even look up from her book.
Athena frowned. Amelia smirked. Liam sighed.
Arthur stretched like he'd just woken up. "Come again?"
"You heard me," the elder snapped. "Kneel. You're in the presence of someone way above you."
Arthur let out a slow breath. Looked at the others.
"Should we tell him?"
Liam crossed his arms. "Not worth it."
Athena looked uneasy. "They really don't get it."
Camila finally closed her book.
The elder's patience cracked. "You mocking us?"
Arthur sighed. "If we kneel," he said, suddenly serious, "this world gets destroyed."
The elder scoffed. "Arrogant child. You"
Arthur cut him off. "Not joking."
The air changed. Heavier. Tense.
But the elder pushed anyway.
"You will kneel. Now."
Arthur tilted his head.
"Alright. Fine."
They started to kneel.
And the world broke.
The sky screamed.
Mountains fell apart.
The ocean froze mid-wave. Everything just... stopped.
Hands.
Massive white hands came down from the heavens, reaching out like they were trying to protect the land.
Not god hands.
World hands.
Hands of fate.
And they were begging.
Begging them not to kneel.
Arthur's smirk faded.
The hands shook, stretching across the sky like they could barely hold back what was coming.
Camila's Eyes of Time spun like crazy. Showing her things that shouldn't exist.
Athena clung to Arthur's arm.
"...The world is apologizing," she whispered.
Arthur let out a slow breath. "Yeah."
Liam's eyes flicked between the heavens and the trembling people below.
"What kind of world," he said quietly, "begs its own people not to kneel?"
The elder couldn't speak.
The disciples dropped to the ground in pure fear.
And the sect leader—the one who had lived for thousands of years—stood completely still.
Because this?
This wasn't supposed to happen.
The world wasn't supposed to be afraid.
But it was.
Arthur and the others stood back up.
just like that
The world calmed down.
The white hands vanished.
The sky healed.
The oceans flowed again.
The land, once seconds away from total collapse, just... fixed itself.
Arthur stretched and looked at the elder.
"See?" he said casually. "Told you."
The elder hit the floor, shaking.
The sect leader? Still silent.
For the first time in his long, immortal life, he had stumbled upon something that absolutely shouldn't exist. And he was at a loss about how to handle it.
Camila closed her book. "Well," she said with a thoughtful look, "that was something."
Athena was still holding onto Arthur's arm, looking a bit shaken. Amelia had a cheeky grin plastered on her face. Liam just let out a long sigh. "Let's not do that again," he said, clearly annoyed.
Arthur chuckled. "I dunno, I thought it was kinda fun."
Just like that, the Higher Realms would soon find out that something unnatural had come into being. Something that shouldn't even be possible. And before long, the envoys would arrive to check out what had stirred up the world.
The air was thick with tension. After a century, the righteous and demonic sects were standing next to each other, both too wary to shatter the fragile peace they had. It was a rare moment of unity because today—the gates of the Higher Realms swung open. The envoys were on their way.
The grand courtyard of the Supreme Sect seemed to stretch on forever, carved from sacred jade and buzzing with hidden energy. Thousands of cultivators, masters of Qi who had spent lifetimes honing their skills, waited in quiet anticipation.
The righteous sects wore flowing robes of gold and white, their auras radiating purity, their gazes sharp and focused. The demonic sects hung back in cloaks of black and crimson, dark and twisting the air around them, smelling faintly of blood and death. They were mortal enemies, yet today they stood united, both seeking recognition.
The sky ripped open. A tear in reality appeared, and out of it came the envoys. They descended like deity figures, dressed in robes made from pure Qi, their eyes betraying nothing but contempt.
Their power was undeniable—overwhelming and suffocating. But then, Arthur's grin faded a bit. Something felt off.
His Eyes of Wrath kicked in, peeling away the illusions of their grandeur. Underneath all that shine, he realized
they were weak. Not weak in the usual way, but definitely weak compared to him, compared to Rael, and even compared to Miguel.
Liam and the rest noticed too. Athena frowned and tightened her grip on Arthur's sleeve. "They… aren't as strong as I thought they'd be."
Amelia's smirk broadened, her Eyes of Lust sparkling with mischief. "Seriously, they're weaker than the demons we've taken down."
Liam's golden Eyes of Pride flickered. "They're nothing," he said quietly, dismissing them. Nothing in comparison to the real threats lurking in the Dark Clans.
As the envoys stepped forward, their gazes swept over the crowd. In their cold, indifferent eyes, Arthur saw no sign of recognition—no warriors, no equals, not even regular people. Just vermin.
Liam exhaled sharply, fists clenching at his sides. He looked at Mark. "Why do they look at you like that?"
Mark, finally breaking his silence, responded slowly. "…Because to them, we're not seen as human."
Liam's golden eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
Mark didn't back down. "To them, we're just lower life forms."
Liam felt something cold settle in his chest. "…Then why do people want to go with them?"
Mark's expression was neutral, almost unreadable. "Because cultivators don't seek equality."
His voice was quiet, but it carried through the audience. "They're after one thing."
A hush fell over them.
"Unlike mortals, cultivators only care about one thing: living forever."
He turned back to the envoys, bitterness lacing his voice. "They don't care if they're treated like insects. They don't care if they're enslaved or reduced to mere tools for the stronger beings up above."
Mark's hands balled into fists. "They'd rather be a servant among the gods than a king among the dirt."
Liam clenched his jaw. Athena looked a bit sick. Amelia scoffed, leaning back. "So this is it? Selling themselves for a shot at eternity?"
Mark didn't dispute it.
Arthur let out a low chuckle, something dark in his tone that caught Mark's attention. "You find this funny?"
Arthur's grin changed—sharper, edgier. "This whole thing," he mused, "is just a big joke, right?"
His Eyes of Wrath flickered
"You lot spend centuries fighting, building your power, ascending through blood and pain, just for a seat at someone else's table."
Mark stiffened.
Arthur tilted his head.
"Tell me something, old man."
His grin widened.
"What happens when someone sits at the table
Who doesn't need their permission?"
The wind stilled.
Mark's breath caught.
And above them, the envoys
who had not yet noticed them
finally turned their gaze toward Arthur.
For the first time since their arrival—
They looked at someone without disdain.
They looked at someone—with unease.
Because the world had already bowed to Arthur once.
And the heavens had begged him not to kneel.
The false gods of the Upper Realms had to wonder.
Had something come to the Lower Realms
That even they could not control?
The courtyard was silent.
The envoys of the Higher Realms stood above them, their expressions unreadable, their presence vast and suffocating.
And then, with voices like thunder, they spoke.
"The rules are simple."
Ariella, a woman cloaked in celestial silver, stepped forward. Her voice rang through the vast sect grounds, commanding the attention of every cultivator present.
"Each sect will send three of their strongest fighters," she declared. "They will battle. Only three will survive."
She let the words hang in the air.
"The ones who live… will join us in the Upper Realms."
A wave of reactions rippled through the crowd.
The sects expected bloodshed.
They expected betrayal, alliances, and slaughter.
And they did not care.
Because this was the only way.
The only path to eternity.
But Arthur stood still.
Not in awe.
Not in hesitation.
But in pure, undiluted rage.
His fingers curled into fists.
He slowly turned to Liam, Amelia, Athena, and Camila—his friends, his people.
There were five of them.
And these so-called gods wanted him to choose who would be left behind.
His Eyes of Wrath burned.
Arthur stepped forward.
And the moment he did
The air itself grew tense.
The surrounding sect leaders and disciples—who had once been excited about the battle—froze.
Because even they could feel it.
Something deep was shifting.
Something wrong.
Arthur's voice was light. Too light.
"Oi."
The envoys turned their gaze to him.
He lifted a single finger.
"There's five of us," he said, tilting his head. "You said we could only send three."
Ariella's golden eyes narrowed. "That is the rule."
Arthur smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
"Well," he said, "I don't like that rule."
The crowd stiffened.
Ariella blinked. "Excuse me?"
Arthur sighed dramatically. "It's just dumb, right? Why should I have to leave someone behind?"
He cracked his neck lazily.
"So let's make it easier."
His Eyes of Wrath glowed.
"How about this If we beat you, all five of us go."
The entire courtyard froze.
Silence.
Then laughter.
The envoys of the Upper Realms laughed.
It was not the laughter of amusement.
It was the laughter of disgust.
Ariella's expression twisted. "You dare?"
The cultivators stared at Arthur as if he had lost his mind.
These were the envoys of heaven.
They had descended from the higher realms, beings so far beyond them that their very presence was a gift.
And yet—this fool had the audacity to challenge them?
Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Here we go again."
Amelia smirked, resting her chin on her palm. "It's about time."
Athena clutched Arthur's sleeve. "Are you sure?"
Arthur just grinned.
But Ariella was not amused.
"You dare use your lowly mouth to speak against us?" she hissed. "You, a creature from the dirt, think yourself worthy to challenge us?"
She took a step forward, divine energy pulsing from her being.
"We are the chosen of heaven. You are nothing."
Arthur's grin widened.
His fingers twitched.
"Oh?"
Ariella's eyes burned.
"How dare you stand before us and—"
Arthur cut her off.
"What's wrong?"
His voice was mocking, playful—but something in the air cracked.
He tilted his head.
"You aren't scared, are you?"
Ariella stilled.
And in that moment—something changed.
The other envoys, who had been watching with amusement, suddenly grew tense.
Because Arthur's words were not just words.
They felt it.Something heavy.His voice didn't sound human.His presence didn't feel normal.And for the first time, they understood.The same thing the world had felt long ago.Why the sky broke.Why the ground shook.Arthur wasn't made to kneel.And he never would.
Ariella's golden light flared. Her eyes lit up, glowing with power."Alright then," she said.Her voice was sharp. Cold."If you and your people want to defy heaven—then fine. You'll pay for it."She raised her hand."If you win, you go up. If you lose—"
The clouds twisted above them.The sky turned white. Pressure crushed the air."Heaven will erase you."
Arthur blinked.Then grinned.His Eyes of Wrath lit up."Now we're talking."
The courtyard had changed.Cultivators who once dreamed of reaching heaven now felt fear sinking in.Because this wasn't how things were supposed to go.No one challenged the envoys.No one talked back to heaven.No one made the divine flinch.
But Arthur—Arthur was laughing.And the real fight had just started.