The Ancient Sacred Realm.
The most primordial Ancient Sacred Realm was ultimately shattered by a terrifying war. The remnants of the realm now amount to only about one percent of its former size, yet it remains the largest among the Five Sacred Realms.
Within the Ancient Sacred Realm, countless lives thrive. It is considered the most peaceful place, where cultivators coexist without bloodshed. Whether over ten thousand years, a million years, or even hundreds of millions of years… not a single instance of cultivators killing one another has been recorded in the entire realm. All live in harmony, like one family.
“Whoosh—”
Though the sun hangs high in the sky, vast swathes of black light radiate from the center of the Ancient Sacred Realm, spreading in all directions and enveloping the entire realm. Even the brilliance of the sun cannot suppress this darkness.
If the statues of the Sacred Lord can control cultivators, then the black light emanating from the heart of the Ancient Sacred Realm is no less potent—yet its reach is far wider. Every corner of the realm is bathed in this black radiance, and every cultivator, from the weakest Transcendent to the most formidable Chaos Realm overlord, harbors absolute loyalty to the Sacred Lord.
In the outside world, the Ancient Sacred Sect spreads its teachings in secret.
But in the Ancient Sacred Realm, every cultivator is a devout follower of the Sacred Lord!
A quiet lake in the Ancient Sacred Realm rippled as a figure emerged from its depths. He had long, flowing purple hair and wore a green robe embroidered with eerie patterns. His eyes held deep sorrow.
“My brother,” the purple-haired man murmured softly.
He had just received his younger brother’s desperate plea—
“Elder Brother, save me! Please, save me!”
“Elder Brother, help!”
The plea had filled him with urgency. He had frantically sought ways to understand the situation and rescue his brother—only to discover that his brother was already dead, his outpost utterly destroyed.
Grief, barely concealed, flickered in the purple-haired man’s eyes. Throughout his cultivation journey, his brother had been his only kin. In their youth, they had been twin prodigies. But as their cultivation advanced, his brother had gradually fallen behind. Now, he had reached the Chaos Realm and held the esteemed position of a Saint within the Ancient Sacred Sect… while his brother had remained a Void God.
His brother, ever ambitious, had ventured into dangerous territories to spread the sect’s teachings and temper himself.
Unable to dissuade him, the purple-haired man had only been able to provide protective treasures. Yet now, the outcome had left his heart utterly cold.
“Whoever killed you, my brother, will die. They will pay with their life,” the purple-haired man whispered.
—
Elsewhere in the Ancient Sacred Realm, above a sprawling complex of towering black palaces, the energies of heaven and earth surged, forming a vortex that gradually coalesced into the figure of the purple-haired man.
Whoosh.
A golden-armored man emerged from the palace complex.
“Saint Wangming, what brings you here?” the golden-armored man inquired.
“My brother is dead. His outpost was annihilated by Dongbo Xueying, an Inner Hall Elder of the Sky Void Palace,” the purple-haired man said. “I request that the sect dispatch a Saint Punishment Squad to the Seven Seas Sacred Realm to eliminate Dongbo Xueying. Beyond my personal vengeance, this Xueying possesses extraordinary talent. Eliminating him early would be beneficial. Moreover, the destruction of our outpost demands retaliation.”
The golden-armored man frowned slightly. “A mere Inner Hall Elder in the nascent realm is insignificant. Even if he were to reach the Chaos Realm, he would be nothing before the Sacred Lord.”
What was the Sacred Lord?
The mightiest of the Ultimate Existences! A being whose power alone rendered the other four Sacred Realms helpless.
The purple-haired man pressed, “So we ignore the destruction of our outpost?”
“That is the territory of the Sky Void Palace. A direct confrontation is unwise. Our teachings must spread in secret. If our outposts are destroyed, it is only because we were not cautious enough,” the golden-armored man replied. “In the Seven Seas Sacred Realm, the harder we fight, the greater our losses—especially when they can summon avatars at will.”
The purple-haired man knew this well.
But should he go himself? Sending an avatar alone was too risky, and if he went in person, even if he succeeded in killing Dongbo Xueying, the avatars of Patriarch Tianyu and the Sword Master would surely descend. His true self would never escape alive.
“Saint Wangming,” the golden-armored man said, “the sect’s laws are strict. I cannot defy them. You must find your own solution.”
The purple-haired man’s brow furrowed.
“Consider the Myriad Worlds Pavilion. They will surely meet your needs,” the golden-armored man suggested with a faint smile.
“The Myriad Worlds Pavilion?” The purple-haired man remained troubled.
—
The Myriad Worlds Pavilion was shrouded in mystery.
Few even knew of its existence—only the highest echelons of the Five Sacred Realms and the Chaos Void. Dongbo Xueying had learned of it from intelligence provided by his master, Gu Qi.
Because the Ancient Sacred Realm was entirely bathed in the Sacred Lord’s radiance, the Myriad Worlds Pavilion had no presence there. Instead, it operated in a bustling trade city on a nearby chaotic landmass, frequented by many cultivators from the Ancient Sacred Realm.
“Whoosh.”
The purple-haired man walked through the city until he arrived before an unassuming, ancient-looking tavern.
The tavern was ordinary, but its name was audacious—**Myriad Worlds**.
Inside, the tavern was empty. Not a single patron in sight.
The purple-haired man stepped in, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on an elderly man lounging lazily in a chair by a corner table. This old man was the tavern’s proprietor.
“Master of the Myriad Worlds,” the purple-haired man called.
The old man opened his bleary eyes, glanced at him, and smiled. “My establishment is expensive. A table downstairs costs one Source World Stone. Upstairs, ten.”
This was an exorbitant price.
To put it in perspective, when the Demon Ancestor transported Dongbo Xueying from the Eastern Flames Sacred Realm to the Seven Seas Sacred Realm, Sand Ancestor had charged only thirty Source World Stones. A standard Chaos-class flying vessel cost fifty. Dongbo Xueying’s top-tier Void God weapon had been worth just under thirty. Yet here, a simple meal downstairs cost one stone—and upstairs, ten?
Even Chaos Realm overlords would hesitate to spend so lavishly.
“Upstairs,” the purple-haired man said.
The old man chuckled and rose, leisurely ascending the stairs.
The purple-haired man dared not underestimate him. Across the Five Sacred Realms and the Chaos Void, there were thousands of Myriad Worlds Pavilions—each inhabited by this same old man. The purple-haired man knew the truth: this elder was one of the Ultimate Existences—the enigmatic **Master of the Myriad Worlds**.
On the second floor, the old man gestured cheerfully. “Come, sit, sit. It’s been a while since I had a guest.” With a wave, a jug of wine and a plate of fruit appeared.
The wine was ordinary fruit wine.
The fruit was common fare, something even a Transcendent could consume without a second thought.
Yet these two items cost **ten Source World Stones**.
The purple-haired man sat, watching as the old man casually plucked a fruit from the plate and took a bite.
“Now,” the old man said between chews, “who do you want dead?”
“Dongbo Xueying. Inner Hall Elder of the Sky Void Palace,” the purple-haired man stated.
The old man nodded.
“A young one, brimming with talent. Tianyu and the Sword Master hold him in high regard. As an Inner Hall Elder, his life-preserving treasures must be extraordinary.”
“Eight hundred Source World Stones. I’ll send assassins, but success isn’t guaranteed. If they fail, they’ll try again—up to three attempts.”
“Alternatively, five thousand Source World Stones. Dongbo Xueying **will** die,” the old man said, eyeing the purple-haired man.
The purple-haired man’s face twitched.
This was precisely why he had hoped the sect’s Saint Punishment Squad would act—the Myriad Worlds Pavilion’s prices were ruthless!
As a Chaos Realm expert, his immediate assets amounted to just over two thousand Source World Stones. Even if he sold his combat weapons, he might scrape together six thousand.
Five thousand?
For an Ultimate Existence—a Cosmic God—it would sting but remain manageable.
For a Chaos Realm cultivator, it meant liquidating nearly everything.
“But he is an Inner Hall Elder, and you want a guaranteed kill,” the old man mused. “This little one has powerful backers. From what I saw of him destroying your outpost, he may even have support from a force rivaling the Sky Void Palace. Five thousand is a fair price.”
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