Desperation gnawed at The Sovereign like a starving rat trapped in a corner. His grand schemes had crumbled—his financial empire was exposed, his immortality shattered, and his so-called power was slipping through his fingers like sand.But there was one thing he had left: fear.In a move that could only be described as melodramatic villain 101, The Sovereign took control of a towering skyscraper in the heart of the financial district.Hundreds of employees were held hostage, their lives hanging by a thread. The Sovereign, now a shadow of his former self, had planted explosives throughout the building.Through a live broadcast, he issued his demand:“Louis Kindsor. You will face me alone or I will bring this building down. You have one hour.”The world watched in stunned silence as government agencies surrounded the building, helpless to act. No one had a clue how to defuse the explosives, and every effort to breach the building ended in failure.An hour passed.Louis was in his offic

The Sovereign ignored him. His palms began to glow with black energy as he chanted in a low, guttural tone. His aura surged—frenzied and unstable.“I am the end, Louis. The final act of creation. I will bring the universe to its knees.” He paused, his voice laced with venom. “Behold my ultimate technique—the Devastation Field.”Louis watched as the Sovereign's energy began to concentrate, the air around him thickening, growing heavy with the scent of imminent destruction.The Sovereign’s aura expanded rapidly, like an invisible hand that reached for the heavens. “This is my final gift to the world—a hundred miles of devastation, erasing everything within its reach.”The ground beneath them trembled, the air crackling with an intensity Louis had never felt before. The Sovereign was sacrificing his own life force, using every last ounce of energy to power this weapon.Louis felt the gravity of the moment—the Devastation Field would be a death sentence for everyone in its range. Even his

The world had just taken its first breath after The Sovereign’s downfall, and already it was choking on its own panic.Cultivation knowledge had spread faster than gossip in a high school group chat. YouTube was flooded with “Qi hacks,” underground forums now featured Qi-enhanced mugshots, and local police departments were losing their minds trying to subdue criminals who could jump rooftops or melt handcuffs.“Another punk used his meridian channeling to steal an armored truck in LA,” Eliza muttered, tossing a tablet on Louis’s desk. “His excuse? ‘Louis said everyone could cultivate.’”Alexander laughed bitterly. “We gave them the keys to enlightenment. They used it to rob a frozen yogurt shop.”And just like that, media vultures swooped in.“CRIMINAL CULTIVATORS TERRORIZE THE STREETS. IS LOUIS KINDSOR TO BLAME?”“KINDSOR’S POWER UNLEASHED A NEW WAVE OF LAWLESSNESS.”The headlines were clear: blame the man who lit the torch, not the morons who set the curtains on fire.Louis was summ

Peace had returned.The rifts had been sealed. The Sovereign was dust. Cultivation flourished. Humanity was finally breathing again—except now, it was exhaling spiritual energy.And in the center of it all stood one man: Louis Kindsor.But peace? Peace was never simple.Leaders of nations, CEOs, clan elders, and self-proclaimed “Qi influencers” all whispered the same idea:“Make Louis Emperor.”“Let him rule the cultivation world.”“He’s the only one strong enough to keep everyone in line.”And, of course, the jealous crowd had their whispers too.“He has too much power.”“We need to end him before he builds a dynasty.”“Today it’s balance, tomorrow it’s a golden throne and slaves in silk.”Louis watched from afar as both camps lost their minds.Rule the world? Please. I barely rule my sleep schedule.At the newly rebuilt Celestial Parliament Dome, the room buzzed with tension. Every powerbroker on the planet had come.The Cultivation Elders sat in one row, dressed like overpriced for

The sun hadn't even risen when the first wave of whispers swept through the cultivation forums.“Mark Jennings’ elite followers… they’re all going mad.”Screenshots of bloodshot eyes, trembling limbs, and cracked soul imprints flooded every known channel. Cultivation academies, rogue cultivator dens, and underground sects buzzed like a nest of hornets kicked wide open.By mid-morning, the hashtag #NeuralCoreCollapse was trending across the inter-sect network.Mark Jennings, standing on the platinum balcony of his Skyrise Temple, snarled at the screen before him.“This reeks of Louis,” he muttered, grinding his teeth.His disciple, Kael, staggered in behind him, mumbling incoherently.“Master… the lotus… it's screaming at me again…”Mark’s brow twitched. That was the third disciple this week.Damn it. My circuit isn’t failing. They’re just weak.Just then, a sharp message pinged through his neural interface.From: Louis FangSubject: Your “Philosophy” Stinks“If you think turning minds