One flick of his wrist, and the raging storm around The Sovereign vanished—as if the universe itself had decided to mute his tantrum.“This,” Louis said, moving through the ancient Kindsor stances with effortless grace, “is what you were trying to steal.”Each movement was like a painting, each step echoing across reality with divine precision. The Sovereign, eyes wide in horror, could only watch.Louis exhaled slowly.“You wanted power you didn’t earn. But some things?”He raised his hand again.“Can’t be stolen. They must be inherited.”The Sovereign collapsed, coughing violently, his own Qi lashing out from within. The stolen energy was consuming him—tearing apart his spiritual core.“You… you’ll regret this,” he rasped. “I still have—”Louis flicked a finger, sealing the man’s energy flow with a single wave.“Oh, zip it,” he said. “You sound like a washed-up villain in a soap opera who thinks monologues count as strategy.”He leaned closer, voice low and merciless.“Let me spell i

“I’m not going to play media chess with a man who’s still faxing his propaganda,” Louis said, reclining in his office chair, sipping jasmine tea like it was victory itself.“Then what’s the plan?” Eliza asked.Louis smiled. “Let him overplay. Let him send his clowns. And then we show the world what happens when you bring lies to a live broadcast.”The event was innocent enough: a charity martial arts exhibition, raising funds for orphaned cultivators and injured veterans. The crowd was massive. Kids ran through booths. Business leaders mingled with monks.Dozens of drones hovered above the venue, recording every inch from every possible angle—all unfiltered, livestreamed, and immune to editing.Eliza leaned in. “You sure they’ll take the bait?”Louis smirked. “They’ve been gulping it down for days. It’s time to yank the hook.”Right on cue, a group of masked men burst into the event, firing spiritual shockwaves at the stage, hurling civilians aside, and yelling for the cameras:“Stop

When all else failed—media slander, economic sabotage, betrayal from within—The Sovereign did what every megalomaniac with a god complex and too much eyeliner does: he hosted a global tournament.Because what better way to kill your enemy than to invite him to a flashy, overfunded fight fest and pretend it’s about honor?“This tournament,” The Sovereign declared from his obsidian balcony, “will determine the greatest cultivator of this generation. The prize? A scroll said to hold the final evolution of the Crimson Dragon Body Technique—power beyond comprehension.”Yeah. Subtle.Louis sat in his penthouse, watching the announcement with the same energy someone might give to a toddler throwing glitter at a funeral.“Ah yes,” he muttered, swirling his drink. “What’s more trustworthy than ancient secrets dangled in front of me by a guy who’s failed at every scheme since sliced bread was invented?”Eleanor leaned against the glass, arms crossed. “You’re not actually thinking of going.”Lou

Louis raised a brow. “Didn’t realize cosplay villains came with such terrible timing.”The Sovereign held up a vial, swirling with a glowing crimson liquid.“Your blood,” he announced. “From our previous fights. Collected drop by drop. All I need to do is apply it to the vault.”He turned to the gate, smirking like a child with a stolen toy.“You see,” he continued, “the vault only requires a touch of your lineage. It doesn’t care how I got it.”Louis tilted his head. “Ah. So you really didn’t read the family warnings, huh?”The Sovereign’s smile faltered. “What?”Louis casually strolled to a nearby pillar, brushing off ancient dust to reveal etched text in Old Kindsorian.“Blood freely given shall open the gate. Blood taken through violence shall awaken the wrath of the mountain.”He looked back at The Sovereign and added with a grin:“But sure, go ahead. Let’s see what happens when you treat my ancestors like an ATM.”The Sovereign hesitated.Then, pride overriding reason, he splash

The Sovereign might have been locked in the Kindsor Vault like a moth in a flame-proof jar, but his pettiness? Oh, that was immortal.Stripped of power, buried under his own arrogance, and with a bruised ego that would need a millennium of therapy, he did what any unhinged, centuries-old maniac would do:He pressed “upload.”Across every major platform—news, social media, holo-channels, even kids' cereal box QR codes—a terrifying headline exploded:“CULTIVATION EXPOSED: GLOBAL THREAT OR DARK MAGIC?”Clips of Louis in combat were stitched together with dramatic music, voiceovers painting him as a “sorcerer manipulating world leaders,” while Eliza was dubbed “The Crimson Witch,” and Alexander? Apparently “The Mind-Flayer Monk.”The Sovereign's voice—somehow still smug through cracked teeth—echoed through the broadcast:“These monsters bend reality to their will. Is that power… science? Or sorcery?”Governments panicked.Special forces raided cultivation schools.Hospitals reported myster