The Primordial Chaos Sovereign

Barbarian Mercenaries

The moment Armstrong stepped beyond the borders of the Norman Clan, he understood one truth clearly.

The world was far larger than hatred.

Far larger than Sunset City.

Far larger than the tiny cage he had spent sixteen years trapped inside.

Under the endless sky, his figure looked insignificant as he walked along the dusty roads leading toward the heart of the Solartin Empire. Yet the fire burning inside him grew stronger with every step.

The cultivation world was cruel.

But it was also limitless.

The Solartin Empire itself was merely one of countless weak Third-Tier powers in the Southern Region of the Boundless Domain.

Above the Solartin Empire stood the Crimson Dynasty, the supreme ruler of the south. An ancient colossus whose territory stretched across millions of miles.

Its armies could erase kingdoms overnight.

Its experts could split mountains with a single strike.

And even the mighty Crimson Dynasty was only one of five hegemonic powers ruling the Boundless Domain.

The Northern Region.

The Eastern Region.

The Western Region.

The Central Region.

Each possessed a supreme force equal to the Crimson Dynasty.

Compared to such monstrous powers, Sunset City was nothing more than a grain of sand at the edge of an endless desert.

Yet instead of feeling fear, Armstrong felt excitement.

Because for the first time in his life…

The horizon before him was infinite.

The journey to Solartin City took two weeks on foot.

Two weeks beneath scorching suns and freezing nights.

Two weeks of sleeping under trees, hunting rabbits, and surviving on wild fruits and river water.

Yet Armstrong endured it all calmly.

His body was abnormal.

Ever since childhood, he had known it.

Even without awakening a bloodline, his physique surpassed ordinary mortals by terrifying margins.

His vision could spot prey from hundreds of meters away.

His hearing captured subtle movements hidden deep within forests.

His reflexes were so sharp that he could instinctively dodge thrown stones before consciously reacting.

And his strength…

At age twelve, he accidentally shattered a stone training pillar with one punch.

At fourteen, he fought three grown men alone after they insulted his mother.

At sixteen, despite lacking cultivation, his physical power already rivaled low-level Body Tempering cultivators.

It was one of the reasons the Norman Clan feared and hated him.

A bloodline-less monster.

An anomaly.

As Armstrong walked through forests and mountain roads, he trained constantly.

Punching trees until his knuckles bled.

Running through rivers with massive stones strapped to his back.

Practicing movement techniques he had secretly observed from clan guards.

Each day, his body grew stronger.

And every night, the strange black mark over his heart pulsed faintly beneath his skin.

Though Armstrong remained unaware of it.

Finally, after fourteen exhausting days, Solartin City appeared on the horizon.

Armstrong stopped walking.

His eyes widened slightly.

The city walls towered like mountains, stretching endlessly beneath the clouds. Massive crimson banners fluttered above gigantic gates forged from black iron.

Countless people moved in and out like rivers of ants.

Cultivators rode enormous spirit beasts through the skies.

Merchants dragged caravans filled with exotic treasures.

Armored soldiers radiated powerful auras that far surpassed anyone Armstrong had ever seen.

The capital of the Solartin Empire.

The true center of power.

Compared to Sunset City, it felt like a completely different world.

Armstrong unconsciously clenched his fists.

One day…

He would stand at the peak of a place even greater than this.

As he approached the gates, two guards suddenly crossed their spears before him.

“Halt.”

Armstrong stopped calmly.

One of the guards glanced at his simple clothes and dusty appearance before speaking indifferently.

“Pay an entry f*e of twenty silver coins before you enter

.”

Armstrong’s heart tightened slightly.

Twenty silver coins.

That was everything he had saved over the years.

Every coin earned through dangerous labor and humiliation inside the Norman Clan.

Without hesitation, he took out the small pouch hanging from his waist and handed it over.

The guard counted the coins before stepping aside lazily.

“You may enter boy.” The guard said

Armstrong walked through the gates slowly.

The instant he entered Solartin City, overwhelming noise crashed into him like a tidal wave.

Shouts.

Laughter.

The sounds of merchants advertising treasures.

The roar of spirit beasts.

The clash of weapons from distant arenas.

The city was alive.

Massive buildings stretched endlessly across crowded streets. Towers pierced the heavens while flying ships occasionally crossed the skies overhead.

Armstrong felt both small and exhilarated.

This was the cultivation world.

A world where the strong ruled.

A world where fate could be rewritten.

"Excuse me sir, please where is the Solartin Empire Mercenary Guild?"

After asking around for directions several times, Armstrong finally arrived before an enormous black building shaped like a giant beast skull.

A massive crimson blade symbol was carved above its gates.

The Solartin Empire Mercenary Guild.

One of the most influential organizations in the entire empire.

Mercenaries hunted beasts, escorted caravans, explored ancient ruins, and completed dangerous missions for money and resources.

For someone with no clan and no backing, it was the best place to survive.

Armstrong stared at the building with determination.

This would be the beginning of his rise.

Just as he stepped forward, a large hand suddenly slammed against the wall beside his head.

BOOM!

The stone cracked instantly.

Armstrong’s eyes narrowed.

Several burly men blocked the entrance.

Their bodies were covered in scars and beast-hide armor. Massive weapons hung from their backs while the smell of alcohol and blood lingered around them.

Mercenaries.

The man in front grinned viciously, revealing yellow teeth.

“Well, well…”

His sharp eyes swept over Armstrong mockingly.

“Looks like a country bumpkin wandered into the capital.” He said

The surrounding mercenaries laughed loudly.

Another man spat on the ground.

“Kid, breathing the air around the Great Solartin Mercenary Guild isn’t free.”

“Pay fifty silver coins.”

A third mercenary smirked arrogantly.

“And another fifty silver coins for stepping onto this holy land.”

The group burst into laughter again.

Clearly, they believed they had found an easy target to rob.

Armstrong remained silent for several seconds. His sharp senses could feel the hostility in their bodies.

These men were dangerous.

Unlike the spoiled youths of the Norman Clan, these were people who had truly killed before.

Yet strangely…

Armstrong felt no fear.

Instead, his blood seemed to grow hotter.

The mercenary leader stepped closer, his grin widening.

“Hurry up, brat. Don’t waste our...”

“Fuck off.”

The laughter stopped instantly.

The surrounding street became strangely quiet.

Even nearby pedestrians slowed down in shock.

The mercenaries stared at Armstrong as if they had misheard him. The leader’s expression slowly darkened.

“What did you say?”

Armstrong calmly raised his eyes.

His gaze was cold and steady.

“I said,” he repeated, “fuck off.”

Boom.

A terrifying pressure erupted from the mercenary leader.

“You little bastard!”

His hand shot toward Armstrong’s throat like a claw.

Fast.

Very fast.

Far faster than ordinary people could react. But Armstrong moved first.

His body twisted instinctively.

SWISH!

The claw barely brushed past his neck.

The mercenary leader’s eyes widened slightly.

Armstrong’s fist exploded forward immediately.

BANG!

The punch struck the man’s stomach heavily.

The mercenary leader staggered backward three steps, his expression filled with disbelief.

The surrounding mercenaries froze.

How could an ordinary mortal force back a cultivator?

Armstrong himself looked surprised.

His fist hurt slightly, as though he had punched iron.

But deep inside his body…

Something ancient stirred faintly.

The black mark over his heart pulsed once.

Far away, hidden beneath endless darkness, colossal crimson eyes opened slightly once more.

And within Armstrong’s veins, a strand of invisible primordial aura silently awakened.