The Primordial Chaos Sovereign

A Deal Under The Heavens

“...The Emperor of the Crimson Dynasty.”

The moment those words left the Guild Master’s mouth, the atmosphere inside the garden-like office changed completely.

The soothing sounds of flowing water suddenly felt distant.

The chirping birds perched upon the spiritual trees became silent.

Even the air itself seemed heavier.

Armstrong stared at the veiled woman as though he had misheard her.

“The Emperor?” he repeated slowly.

The Guild Master casually tossed a handful of glowing fish feed into the pond before answering.

“Yes. The sovereign of the Crimson Dynasty. The ruler whose authority stretches across thousands of cities and countless sects.”

Her voice remained calm.

Too calm.

As though speaking about killing the Emperor of one of the greatest dynasties in existence was no different from discussing the weather.

Armstrong could only laugh dryly.

“You must be joking right?”

“Do I look like someone joking?” she asked.

Armstrong fell silent.

No.

She truly was serious.

That was what made this terrifying.

He looked around the peaceful garden once more. The environment was tranquil beyond belief, yet hidden beneath that tranquility was pressure so deep that Armstrong felt suffocated.

Who exactly was this woman?

“You want me,” Armstrong said carefully, “a person who failed his bloodline awakening, to kill the Emperor someday?”

The Guild Master slowly turned her head toward him.

“You did not fail your awakening.”

Her words came without hesitation.

Armstrong frowned immediately.

“The crystal showed no reaction.”

“The crystal only measures ordinary bloodlines,” she replied. “There are some existences in this world that cannot be measured using common methods.”

Armstrong’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He did not fully believe her, yet he could not deny the strange things happening to his body recently.

His strength had always exceeded others of the same realm.

Even without cultivating, he could overpower trained body cultivators.

At first, he thought it was merely talent.

But after hearing everything about bloodline hierarchies, uncertainty began creeping into his heart.

The Guild Master continued speaking.

“Your body possesses abnormal vitality. Your senses are sharper than ordinary mortals. Even the beasts within the Guild reacted nervously when you entered earlier.”

Armstrong remembered the caged spirit wolves downstairs suddenly retreating when he walked past.

At the time, he assumed it was coincidence.

Now…

Perhaps it was not.

“What exactly are you trying to imply?” he asked cautiously.

The Guild Master remained silent for a moment. Then she walked toward the pond. Her white dress fluttered gently as spiritual energy flowed naturally around her body.

“I believe your bloodline is special,” she said at last. “Far beyond the level of common clans.”

“That is all I can say for certain.”

Armstrong blinked in surprise.

“You don’t know?”

The Guild Master laughed softly.

“You think bloodlines are simple things?”

She crouched beside the pond and lightly touched the water surface.

Ripples spread outward.

“There are ancient bloodlines lost to history. Mutated bloodlines. Variant inheritances. Even bloodlines born from forbidden experiments.”

“No one can accurately determine another person’s bloodline merely through observation.”

“Not even me.”

That answer somehow felt more believable. If she had instantly declared him owner of some legendary bloodline, Armstrong would have found it difficult to trust her.

Still…

The things she described earlier were enough to shake his worldview entirely.

The Guild Master’s voice became quieter.

“However, I know one thing.”

She looked directly at him.

“Your bloodline is dangerous.”

The words struck Armstrong heavily.

“Dangerous?”

“Yes.”

She stood up slowly.

“The moment you entered this room, the spiritual beasts within this garden became restless.”

As if proving her words, the fish inside the pond remained gathered at the farthest corner away from Armstrong.

Even the colorful birds perched on the branches were watching him cautiously.

Armstrong frowned deeply.

He had done nothing.

Yet these creatures behaved as though facing some natural predator.

The Guild Master observed his expression before continuing.

“Bloodline suppression. That is the only explanation I can think of.”

Armstrong’s heart shook slightly.

Suppression.

In the cultivation world, higher lifeforms naturally suppressed weaker ones.

For beasts, this hierarchy was even more absolute.

A wolf would fear a tiger.

A tiger would fear a dragon.

And a dragon…

Would fear something even greater.

The Guild Master sighed lightly.

“That is why I became interested in you. Someone with an unawakened bloodline should not possess this level of influence already.”

Armstrong remained silent.

The more he listened, the more he realized how little he understood about himself. For years, the Norman Clan treated him as trash because his awakening failed.

Yet now, one of the most mysterious individuals he had ever met was telling him the opposite.

It almost felt unreal.

“What does any of this have to do with the Emperor?” Armstrong asked finally.

The Guild Master’s playful aura disappeared instantly.

Her voice became cold.

“The Crimson Emperor has spent centuries searching for powerful bloodlines.”

Armstrong frowned.

“Why?”

“No one knows for certain.”

She walked toward a massive spiritual tree within the garden.

“But ancient rumors claim the Emperor is trying to create the perfect bloodline vessel.”

“The perfect vessel?” Armstrong repeated.

The Guild Master nodded slowly.

“He has destroyed clans for their inheritances."

"Captured descendants of ancient beasts.”

“Excavated forbidden ruins.”

“Massacred entire sects after obtaining what he wanted.”

Her tone carried hidden killing intent.

It was subtle.

But terrifying.

“He seeks power beyond the limits of normal cultivation.”

Armstrong suddenly felt a chill.

“And you want him dead because of that?”

The Guild Master became silent.

For several moments, only the sound of flowing water remained.

Then,

“He killed everyone I once cared about.”

Her voice was calm, but the calmness felt unnatural.

Like frozen hatred buried for countless years.

“The sect I belonged to opposed him three centuries ago.”

“Three… centuries?”

Armstrong stared at her in shock.

Exactly how old was this woman exactly?

She ignored his reaction and continued.

“In a single night, my sect vanished.

Millions died.

Elders. Disciples. Children.

Everything burned.”

Armstrong unconsciously clenched his fists. Even imagining such a scene felt horrifying.

“I survived,” she said softly. “But survival is not always mercy.”

For the first time since entering this room, Armstrong sensed loneliness from her.

An ancient loneliness.

The kind carried by someone who had lived too long with hatred.

The Guild Master turned toward him again.

“When I saw you today, I sensed possibility.”

“I sensed potential.”

“Not because I know what your bloodline is…”

“But because your existence itself feels abnormal.”

Her eyes beneath the veil seemed to pierce through him.

“I am willing to gamble on that possibility.”

She raised her hand lightly.

A crimson token appeared from thin air.

The token radiated ancient pressure.

On its surface was engraved a single symbol Armstrong could not understand.

“This is a Dominion Token,” she explained.

“With it, you can access resources, cultivation manuals, and hidden training grounds belonging to the Guild.”

Armstrong’s breathing became heavier.

Even without understanding its true value, he could tell this object was extraordinary.

“I will help you awaken your bloodline.”

“I will provide cultivation resources.”

“I will personally guide your growth.”

Her voice became steady and powerful.

“I will help you rise beyond this kingdom.”

“But in return…”

A terrifying pressure suddenly filled the garden.

The pond water trembled violently.

Leaves rustled despite the absence of wind.

“When the day comes…”

“You will stand against the Crimson Emperor.”

Silence fell.

Armstrong lowered his head.

His thoughts became chaotic.

Everything happening today felt absurd.

A mysterious Guild Master.

Ancient bloodlines.

A hidden conspiracy.

And now, a deal involving the death of an Emperor.

Any rational person would reject such madness instantly. Yet Armstrong could not. Because deep inside his heart…

Something was moving.

The humiliation he suffered within the Norman Clan. The mockery during his failed awakening.

The years spent struggling within the slums.

The helplessness.

The rage.

All of it surfaced once more.

Power.

For the first time in his life, true power was within reach.

Dangerous?

Yes.

Insane?

Absolutely.

But Armstrong understood one truth better than anyone.

Without strength, people like him would forever remain beneath others.

He slowly raised his head.

“What if I refuse?”

The Guild Master smiled faintly.

“Then you may leave freely.”

“No threats?” He asked cautiously

“I do not force destiny,” she replied calmly. “A chained dragon can never reach the heavens.”

Armstrong stared at her for a long moment.

Then,

He slowly reached for the crimson token. The instant his fingers touched it, a strange warmth spread through his body. For a split second, Armstrong felt his blood pulse violently.

The birds in the garden instantly flew away in panic.

The fish dove to the bottom of the pond.

Even the spiritual energy in the room fluctuated slightly.

The Guild Master’s eyes narrowed behind her veil.

But she said nothing.

Armstrong gripped the token firmly.

His gaze sharpened with determination.

“I accept.”