"Hiss!"
"It's the Sky Martial Dynasty!"
"But even if it's them, how dare they act so recklessly in Qingzhou?"
"That's right! Anyone watching might think the overlord of Qingzhou isn't the Great Qin Dynasty, but them!"
"They're just attending an auction, yet they arrive like they're declaring war!"
"They must be here for something more than bidding!"
"You think so too?"
"What, you scared to say it? Then don't whisper like an old ghost!"
The crowd before the massive gates of Heavenly Qin Ancient City buzzed with outrage.
Cultivators from every sect and dynasty in Qingzhou glared toward the sky, teeth clenched. The enormous warship that floated above—the one emblazoned with the Sky Martial Dynasty's golden dragon sigil—was simply too arrogant.
Even the Great Qin Imperial Guards stationed at the gate had grim expressions, their eyes cold as they watched the warship cast its shadow over the city.
Were it not for the Primordial Commerce Pavilion's auction taking place here, the Great Qin's guards would have already taken action.
No one dared humiliate Qingzhou's face on its own soil.
Especially not outsiders from Tianzhou.
Still, there were others who watched with amusement. Sects and clans from distant provinces leaned back with smirks, whispering to one another.
If two overlord dynasties—Qin and Sky Martial—were to clash, it would certainly make for fine entertainment. And perhaps, amidst the chaos, they might glimpse the true depths of each power.
Aboard the Sky Martial Warship
"Your Highness, we've entered Great Qin airspace."
A middle-aged commander in silver armor bowed deeply toward a young man seated upon an obsidian throne at the ship's center.
The youth wore a black-gold python robe, his expression sharp and proud. His eyes gleamed like tempered jade as he looked down at the clouds below.
"Good," he said coldly. "My royal father and the ancestral elders will arrive soon. This time, the Great Qin Dynasty will pay for its arrogance."
The commander bowed even lower. "Yes, Crown Prince Jiang."
Jiang Taixu, heir to the Sky Martial throne, was famed throughout the Southern Wilderness. At only twenty years of age, he had already stepped into the Spirit Sea Realm and was rumored to have slain a cultivator one realm higher with a single strike.
The Sky Martial Ancestor himself had declared that Taixu possessed the potential to one day ascend to the Immortal King Realm.
For him to personally come to the auction—
it was clear that the Sky Martial Dynasty's intentions were far from simple.
The presence of one overlord dynasty was enough to stir the entire Southern Wilderness.
But what came next stunned even the most composed elders and scholars.
The horizon flashed with spiritual light as more vessels and divine beasts streaked toward Heavenly Qin.
Each new arrival brought whispers—
"The Han Family of Yuezhou!"
"The Liu Family of Yunzhou has come too!"
"The Gu Family of Fengzhou—their flying fortress alone could crush a city!"
"Hiss! That bronze ship—look at the sigil! That's the Jun Family of Huangzhou!"
The last name drew audible gasps.
Even the oldest cultivators went pale.
The Jun Family—descendants of an ancient Emperor bloodline—rarely left their domain. Their very presence meant the auction's treasures must be beyond imagination.
Standing in the midst of the gathered forces, an elderly man in gray robes narrowed his eyes. His face bore the calm detachment of one who had seen the rise and fall of countless eras.
"It seems the storm of the Southern Wilderness gathers again," he murmured.
He was Wei Zhongtian, senior elder of the God King Pavilion, an ancient order once revered across the continent.
Founded by the God King of Zhongzhou five hundred millennia ago, the Pavilion had once rivaled the greatest dynasties and holy lands. But now, its glory had dimmed.
Even so, few dared to treat it lightly. Its arts of divination and fate calculation—though far from true omniscience—still commanded respect.
In ancient times, it was said the Pavilion could glimpse fragments of the heavenly script itself. Whether or not that was ever true, no one could say.
Wei Zhongtian looked toward the descending warships, eyes narrowing. "Even the Jun Family has come. It must be… for that thing."
His voice was calm, but his heart was not.
Everyone spoke of the Heavenly Spirit Pill, but he knew the Pavilion's secret reports. There was more.
A Holy Weapon—a relic strong enough to make even Immortal Kings covet it—was among the auction's prizes.
If the Primordial Commerce Pavilion had not been hosting the event, blood would already be flowing across Qingzhou's skies.
Gasps rippled through the crowds once more.
"Are they going to start a war right here?"
"All these are overlord-level powers of their provinces!"
"What could be so precious that it draws them all to one place?"
A crooked-nosed cultivator with monkey-like cheeks leaned toward a group of curious juniors.
"Heh, you lot don't know? I've heard what this auction is truly for."
"Oh?"
"There's a small umbrella up for bid this time."
"An umbrella?" someone echoed blankly.
The man nodded sagely. "Not just any umbrella, fool. A divine artifact that can explore forbidden lands without leaking your life essence! A holy-grade treasure for venturing through death zones!"
The listeners' eyes went wide.
"Really?!"
"You're not lying, right?"
"Of course not. Would a Qingzhou native lie to another Qingzhou native?"
The ridiculous exchange earned several eyerolls, but the rumor spread instantly, lighting up the restless crowd.
Standing not far away, Qin Wucheng froze for a moment.
"…small umbrella?"
His face stiffened. He quickly summoned the system interface in his mind.
[System Mall — "Small Umbrella": Status — Unredeemed]
He exhaled in relief, his expression deadpan.
"Damn it," he muttered inwardly. "For a second, I thought this cursed system sold out one of its items already."
His irritation faded into amusement.
Leave it to cultivators to make even nonsense sound grand.
Still, if these forces believed a little umbrella could explore forbidden zones, maybe he'd find inspiration for a new sect artifact later.
Beside him, Luo Jingtao and Luo Xueyao could only stare, dumbfounded by the sheer number of powers arriving.
Just the visible fleets above the clouds were enough to make Qingzhou tremble.
Dynasties, clans, and ancient orders—all converging for one auction.
Luo Jingtao let out a long breath.
If the Grand Xu Dynasty hadn't become an affiliate of the Lingxiao Sect, they would have been nothing but ants before these overlords.
Now, standing beneath the protection of the sect, he finally felt some semblance of composure.
Even the weakest "guard" of the Lingxiao Sect was a Soul Transformation expert—something most state dynasties couldn't even dream of commanding.
If cultivators of that level were mere guardians, what kind of being was their Sect Master?
Luo Jingtao didn't dare guess. He just bowed his head slightly, expression calm, as though such divine might was nothing unusual.
Overhead, Jiang Taixu's warship slowly descended, runes blazing like suns.
All around, other forces adjusted their formations in silent acknowledgment of his dynasty's status.
But one vessel among them drew equal, if not greater, attention—a sleek black spirit ship, its sails embroidered with silver clouds and a single radiant word: Lingxiao.
The moment it appeared, a quiet pressure spread through the air.
Countless gazes turned.
"Which sect is that?"
"I've never seen their sigil before."
"The aura's strange… I can't see through it."
Somewhere in the crowd, Wei Zhongtian frowned, his divine sense probing briefly—only to meet a blank wall of nothingness.
"What… is that?" he whispered.
For an instant, he caught the faintest glimpse of a white-robed figure standing calmly on deck, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were distant, serene—yet beneath them, the world itself seemed to bend slightly.
Wei Zhongtian's breath caught. He withdrew his sense immediately, heart pounding.
"The aura just now… not of this world…"
Jiang Taixu's gaze followed the same direction, and his lips curled in disdain. "Another pretender trying to look mysterious."
Meanwhile, aboard the Lingxiao spirit ship, Qin Wucheng stifled a yawn.
"Wang Ming, set us down near the Pavilion's plaza."
"Yes, Sect Master."
Wang Ming's calm voice cut through the wind as the ship angled smoothly downward.
From below, the cultivators of countless forces watched as the mysterious vessel settled quietly before the gates of the Primordial Commerce Pavilion's auction hall.
No blinding light. No roaring beasts.
Just quiet composure.
And somehow, that very calm made it even more intimidating.
As the warships of Sky Martial, Great Qin, and dozens of other forces encircled the city, the once-clear sky grew heavy with spiritual pressure.
Even the protective formation of the city began to hum, faint ripples spreading through the air.
Wei Zhongtian looked skyward and sighed.
"The curtain rises again. Another storm that will swallow the Southern Wilderness whole."
Qin Wucheng, standing at the bow of his ship, smiled faintly.
"Good. The livelier it gets, the better."
Behind him, Luo Jingtao and his daughter exchanged glances, unsure whether to be excited or terrified.
The Sect Master looked utterly unfazed, as if surrounded by overlord dynasties was just another stroll in the mountains.
In the heart of Heavenly Qin City, the great bronze doors of the Primordial Commerce Pavilion slowly began to open.
Golden light spilled outward, and an ancient bell tolled through the heavens.
Dong—
The sound resonated across Qingzhou.
Every cultivator felt it vibrate through their core, as if the heavens themselves were calling them to bear witness.
The long-awaited auction—
The gathering of dynasties—
Had begun.