After his final words, Hikaru Uchiha swept his gaze coldly across the crowd—his eyes like blades, slicing through the arrogance and greed that had just moments ago simmered in the air.
No one dared meet his eyes.
All those who had been puffed-up with bravado now lowered their heads in silent dread, hearts filled with fear and reverence.
Hikaru's gaze finally landed on Jia Zhengliang, still kneeling on the ground.
Jia Zhengliang felt the weight of that gaze pierce through his entire body.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping to the earth below. His limbs were stiff with terror, as if trapped in ice.
Regret flooded his chest.
He had thought himself powerful, a capable shinobi worthy of respect.
But standing before Hikaru… he now saw just how weak, how insignificant he truly was.
Voice trembling, he finally croaked:
"I… I understand now…"
Each word came bitterly, like dragging glass through his throat.
"I was arrogant… I'll leave now…"
Hikaru smirked coldly. "You think you can just come and go as you please? What do you take me for?"
Yet even as he said it, Jia Zhengliang felt the crushing pressure fade.
Though Hikaru's voice was frigid, he didn't push further.
Jia Zhengliang understood—it was mercy. And he would not dare test it.
He stayed kneeling, afraid to move a muscle, bowing his head in gratitude and awe.
He knew Hikaru spared him only because he posed no true threat.
If Hikaru had wanted him dead, he'd have been erased in an instant.
Hikaru frowned slightly at his lingering presence.
"If you understand your place, then go. And don't ever try this kind of stunt again."
"Yes—yes, I understand! Thank you, Lord Hikaru, for your mercy!"
Jia Zhengliang kowtowed in thanks, then slowly rose.
His legs were as heavy as lead. Every step was a struggle.
When he reached the exit, he turned back, giving Hikaru one last look—etched with dread and humility—then left in silence.
He knew he would never forget this lesson.
And he'd never dare challenge that man again.
With that, Hikaru's overwhelming presence crushed what little resistance remained.
The crowd that had almost turned hostile now stood paralyzed.
Where moments ago greed had simmered, now only silence and cold sweat remained.
Jia Zhengliang, unknowingly, had become a blade.
Had Hikaru not unleashed that thunderous force earlier, the next moment might have been a full-blown revolt—dozens moving at once to force his hand.
After all, in this world, people believed "the law does not punish the crowd."
They had been ready to use numbers to pressure Hikaru:
Surrender the Wind Hou Secret Art. Hand over the Six Vaulted Immortal Bandits.
But luck had saved them.
If not for Jia Zhengliang stepping forward and triggering Hikaru's wrath…
Today might've become their collective funeral.
From behind the crowd, Xia He watched with smoldering eyes.
Hikaru's dominance ignited something deep within her—raw, unfiltered desire.
Her gaze never left his silhouette.
She wanted to drown in him—completely.
Though their time together had been brief, her body already yearned for his power.
And she knew—Hikaru disliked her flamboyance in public. He preferred silence, subtlety.
So she restrained herself.
Her tongue traced her lips ever so slightly, longing for the next moment they'd be alone—when she could once again taste the overwhelming force that was Hikaru.
Not far off, Wang Ye stood still, brow furrowed.
None of this was supposed to happen.
His Inner Realm foresight had shown him a very different path.
But Hikaru… was a complete anomaly.
A variable that shattered every calculation.
And now with Quan Xing launching their assault early, the Trinity Gate Gathering might be postponed—or worse, cancelled entirely.
If Hikaru's appearance had been a ripple, this was a tidal wave.
What disturbed Wang Ye most, though, was the absence of the Celestial Master—Zhang Zhiwei.
Someone of his level… shouldn't be absent during a full-blown attack.
Was something wrong?
Meanwhile...
Zhang Zhiwei, the man known as the Heavenly Taoist, stood at the very peak of the world.
In this alternate reality—where power had grown exponentially—he remained untouchable, a pillar above all.
Yet even he was not omniscient.
He could not see all truths, nor predict all futures.
So, when Quan Xing quietly launched their assault…
He failed to realize their true target:
His junior brother, Tian Jinzhong.
With a casual attitude, Zhang Zhiwei had faced Shen Chong and Ding Shimian like a teacher entertaining children.
He pointed out flaws in Ding Shimian's techniques, treated the enemy invasion like a training session.
To him, it had all felt like a harmless farce.
Until Rongshan came running.
His urgent report hit like a thunderclap.
Reality snapped back into focus.
Zhang Zhiwei instantly cast aside all pretense—he struck down Shen Chong and Ding Shimian without wasting a breath.
But it was too late.
Not even his godlike power could reverse death.
Tian Jinzhong was already gone.
Only now did Zhang Zhiwei feel the crushing weight of his arrogance.
His blindness.
He stood motionless, his expression unreadable.
But deep within, the reflection had begun.
He had failed to protect his brother.
And as if the world echoed his rage—
The skies above Mount Dragon-Tiger darkened.
Black clouds surged across the heavens, lightning flickering within.
Thunder cracked like divine fury—BOOM!!
Bolts of lightning surged like enraged dragons.
They tore through the clouds—descending upon every last Quan Xing agent who hadn't fled.
Screams were drowned by the roar of the heavens.
Within seconds, they were gone—erased without a trace.
It was divine retribution.
A heavenly wrath.
In a single breath, silence blanketed the mountain.