Shi Hao swept his gaze across the assembly, his eyes brimming with sharpness, disdain, and an unrestrained arrogance that radiated dominance, looking down upon everyone present! His words instantly silenced the grand plaza before the Central Heavenly Palace, sending hearts racing—Little Shi had returned, and his demeanor was overwhelmingly domineering.
“Heh…” Someone chuckled, their tone laden with meaning, their eyes indifferent. They said nothing more, merely stepping back to observe from the sidelines.
“Lord Huangtian, how imperious of you to command us all. Do you truly believe your might alone can defy the current tide?” another voice whispered insidiously through hidden transmission.
The Central Heavenly Palace gleamed in resplendent gold, constructed from unyielding golden rock—not only indestructible, capable of standing for eternity, but also capable of gathering the auspicious energies of heaven and earth. The palace exuded an aura of majesty, enveloped in dragon qi, exuding sacredness and tranquility, as if the divine halls of the gods had descended upon the mortal realm to suppress the fates of all directions.
Shi Hao’s expression remained cold and composed, as if he were the master of this place. Step by step, he ascended the grand staircase, reaching the heights of the Central Heavenly Palace before turning to look down upon the crowd below.
“I mean what I say.”
His words carried an invisible pressure that spread outward in an instant. Whether they were foreign powerhouses or the various marquises and princes of the imperial capital, all stiffened in response. No matter their intentions, they had to consider Shi Hao’s overwhelming presence. If he were to unleash his fury, it would undoubtedly bring calamity—a storm of blood and slaughter.
Since his emergence, he had never tasted defeat. He had slain the Dual-Pupiled One, clashed with the Lunar Grace Goddess, and crushed all marquesses of his own realm. His illustrious deeds were undeniable—who could challenge him?
Before the towering palace, a jade pool shimmered, its waters nurturing spiritual herbs that emitted radiant mists, further shrouding the area in an ethereal haze, as if one had stepped into the abode of immortals. Above the imperial palace, the azure dragon formed from auspicious light coiled endlessly, absorbing dragon qi as it raised its head and let out a clear, distant cry that echoed beyond the heavens.
In the distance, spiritual birds fluttered nervously, not daring to approach—these were auspicious creatures raised within the palace, now trembling in fear.
“Lord Huangtian, you are far too overbearing. This is the imperial palace, not your marquisate,” someone remarked with thinly veiled hostility, unwilling to simply withdraw.
“Wrong. His Majesty has already elevated the marquisate to a princedom. Upon Little Shi’s return, he shall immediately be titled the Heavenly King of the Barren Lands,” interjected another voice—a prince of the court.
The crowd stirred in shock. It was the War King, a formidable marquis, now openly declaring his stance in favor of the newly returned Shi Hao. The capital was in chaos—not only were foreign sects meddling, but even the Shi Clan itself was embroiled in internal strife, all vying for the throne. The War King’s declaration only heightened the tension.
“Indeed, he may be called the Heavenly King of the Barren Lands!” Several aged guards stepped forward, declaring their allegiance.
“Tch, what an imposing title—’Heavenly King of the Barren Lands.’ To name oneself after the entire domain and crown oneself a Heavenly King—does he intend to overshadow all of the Barren Lands? I wonder if he truly lives up to it,” came a cold, serpentine voice, drifting from left to right, making its origin impossible to pinpoint.
At this moment, no one was willing to openly confront Shi Hao directly. None wished to be the first to challenge him, resorting instead to covert provocation and disdain.
Shi Hao had already reached the summit of the stairs, standing before the grand palace. His gaze swept across the crowd before he snorted coldly.
“Those who skulk in the shadows have no right to stand here!”
With a flick of his sleeve, a golden radiance descended like a mountain, casually enveloping a green-robed figure before the palace. The man’s face twisted in terror—he had not expected to be exposed so swiftly.
“No—!”
His desperate cry was cut short as his body exploded into a mist of blood beneath the crushing golden light.
This was a foreign powerhouse, undoubtedly from a supreme sect. A single taunt had been enough for Shi Hao to ruthlessly execute him without hesitation.
Such was the might of Little Shi. Even when facing a multitude of heroes and countless marquises, his ferocity and dominance remained unshaken.
Shi Hao stood silently, his robes fluttering. Though he appeared transcendent and serene, an overwhelming majesty emanated from him, pressing down on the hearts of all like an unyielding mountain.
The crowd shuddered, their eyelids twitching. Little Shi was not jesting—he had slain a foreign sect member with a mere gesture, making it clear he had no intention of compromise.
Standing at the center, Shi Hao coldly scanned each person present. Anger and sorrow warred within him. With the departure of the Stone Emperor, chaos had indeed erupted without restraint.
Not only were foreign sects brazenly intruding into the imperial palace, disregarding the sovereignty of the nation as they sought to install a puppet ruler, but even within the Stone Kingdom itself, factions had formed among the marquises. Some supported different claimants to the throne out of self-interest, while others had turned to foreign powers, inviting wolves into their home.
“Shi Hao, who do you think you are? You are but a marquis—what right do you have to dictate life and death, to drive us away?” A general spoke, clearly acting under the orders of a marquis.
At last, someone had stepped forward to openly challenge him. Shi Hao’s overwhelming dominance had stirred resentment—many were unwilling to yield.
“Indeed, the Stone Kingdom is in upheaval. We have come as guests to witness the ascension of the new emperor. What fault is there in that?” Another foreign sect member stepped forth, his voice laced with cold skepticism.
Shi Hao’s gaze passed over them one by one, his expression unreadable, yet the oppressive aura around him sent shivers down their spines.
“I do not presume to be anyone special. The Stone Emperor left a decree summoning me to the palace, and I have answered that call. Yet you, a guardian of the imperial palace, have failed in your duty, allowing outsiders to enter and plot upheaval. Do you know the meaning of the words ‘deserving of execution’?” Shi Hao’s voice was icy as he fixed his gaze on the general.
With a mere gesture, a crimson sword beam tore through the air, causing space itself to tremble as it slashed toward the general.
Treasures flashed as the general and others intervened, attempting to block the strike and undermine Shi Hao’s imposing momentum.
*Crack!*
Two powerful artifacts were split apart. The crimson sword beam descended, cleaving the general in two. Blood sprayed high as his body split apart, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Simultaneously, Shi Hao flicked his finger, unleashing a streak of violet-gold lightning—thin yet terrifying, causing the void to tremble as it enveloped another figure.
A muffled explosion followed as the foreign cultivator who had intervened earlier—despite his strength—was pierced through his protective runes. A scream tore from his throat before his body charred into blackened cinders.
“Who invited you to ‘witness’ anything? This is the imperial palace, not your backyard!” Shi Hao declared after executing the foreign cultivator.
The assembly was not limited to a single sect—representatives from the Heaven Mending Sect, the Everlasting Mountain, the Western Pure Land Sect, and others were present, including true elites among them.
Shi Hao’s gaze swept over them before turning to the native factions of the Stone Kingdom, his eyes sharp as blades.
“Rain Clan, Kun King, Lan King… do you intend to bow to the orders of foreign sects, to serve them as masters?” Shi Hao’s voice was calm, but the cold light in his eyes burned fiercely.
For those supporting different claimants to the throne, he spared only a glance. But for those who had invited foreign wolves into their home, his heart brimmed with killing intent.
“We are all marquises here. By what authority do you interrogate us? Do not overestimate yourself!” the Kun King growled.
“Shi Hao, cease your tyranny. The Stone Kingdom does not belong to you. In this era without an emperor, we are all equal decision-makers. This is not a place for you alone to dictate,” a representative of the Rain Clan declared. They had sent a delegation, as the Rain King had been crippled by the Great Demonic Deity and could not appear in person.
“I am not the ruler of the Stone Kingdom, but as a descendant of the Shi Clan and now the Heavenly King of the Barren Lands, I have every right to execute traitors. You have invited foreign sects into the imperial palace to overthrow the Stone Kingdom—do you still dare call yourselves marquises? Do you still consider yourselves subjects of the Stone Kingdom? All of you deserve death!” Shi Hao’s voice was frigid.
“The world is already in chaos, and calamity has arrived. To confine ourselves to a single nation is unrealistic. We act for self-preservation and to protect the foundation of the Stone Kingdom, lest it be destroyed by divine punishment,” the Kun King argued.
“Indeed, what fault is there in inviting the Heaven Mending Sect, the Everlasting Mountain, and the Western Pure Land Sect to jointly safeguard our kingdom? The foundation remains ours,” the Rain Clan representative added loudly.
“Inviting wolves into your home and still daring to justify it with pretty words? You are all traitors to the clan, betrayers of the nation—all of you deserve execution!” Shi Hao’s voice was icy with murderous intent.
“By what right? Do you truly believe no one in this world can stop you?!” the Rain Clan representative shouted. The Kun King and Lan King’s expressions darkened.
Shi Hao’s body erupted with radiant light, his battle aura surging as he stepped forward, advancing toward the marquises who had openly opposed him.
“Fellow Daoist, hold.”
A young man stepped forth, wielding a golden mace—a sacred artifact—that emitted wisps of white mist, exuding a terrifying aura.
The crowd brightened. This was a disciple of the Heaven Mending Sect, a rising genius. Though not as renowned as the Lunar Grace Goddess, he was still a rare talent, seldom matched.
Another youth emerged, clad in plain gray robes, his hair cropped short, his skin an earthy yellow. He held an alms bowl—also a sacred artifact—that emitted strands of violet qi, blocking the path ahead.
This was a disciple of the Western Pure Land Sect. Though his name was unknown, his prowess was evident—his body faintly glowed with golden light, a sign that his Indestructible Vajra Body had reached perfection.
Shi Hao laughed, but his mirth was cold. “Let us see who can escape. Those I wish to kill—none shall flee!”
“Why persist? The tides of the world are clear. Do you truly believe you can reverse the heavens? Step down,” the Western Pure Land Sect’s short-haired youth said calmly.
The Heaven Mending Sect disciple raised his sacred weapon, ready for battle. “We respect your talent and might, but do not bring ruin upon yourself.”
Shi Hao’s laughter ceased abruptly, his expression turning glacial. “Those who dare stand in my way shall be slain, regardless of sect. My earlier words stand—any foreign cultivator who does not withdraw now shall die!”
With a thunderous roar, Little Shi struck, challenging the assembled marquises alone!
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