Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

At the foot of Qingmu Peak, the blood was still wet.

The news that Qingxuan Zhenren had been killed by Li Chenzhou in public spread like wildfire, reaching all thirteen prefectures in the west within three days.

The sect leader, a Grandmaster at the third level, was crushed by a single punch, his Vajra Sword Intent crushed. For the first time, the words "Ruling the World" were truly etched into the very marrow of the Western Jianghu.

The Qingmu Sword Sect's mountain gates were tightly closed, and its protective formation was fully activated.

In the blue stone cave on the back mountain, Qing Yuanzi sat in meditation for three days, his long, white hair moving without wind. He was two generations older than Qing Xuan, and had lived for over two hundred and seventy years. He had long since stopped caring about the affairs of the sect and was only waiting to pass away.

His cultivation at the fifth level of the Grandmaster realm was already top-tier in this world, but his lifespan was nearing its end, and every battle was burning away the little life force he had left.

However, what chilled him even more was not Li Chenzhou's punch, but the news coming from down the mountain—

Of the seventeen vassal forces under the Qingmu Sword Sect, six have sent envoys westward within three days, heading straight for Xunyang Prefecture, where the Qinglong Society is located. Among them, Feiyun Fortress at the northern foot of Qingmu Peak even sent out the sect leader's token along with a pledge of allegiance, their posture so humble as to be almost obsequious.

The three forces in the south were even more cunning. While sending a letter of invitation to the Azure Dragon Society, they secretly contacted the Chaotian Palace and the Blood Nether Sect, clearly trying to play both sides.

The remaining eight families are observing and waiting for the Green Wood Sword Sect to survive this ordeal before making a decision.

"Grandmaster Uncle".

A young disciple's voice came from outside the cave, trembling with suppressed emotion, "The Blood Nether Sect sent a letter of greeting, saying... it's to offer condolences. Also, Flying Cloud Fortress has dismissed its disciples, and the fortress lord has personally gone to Xunyang Prefecture."

Qing Yuanzi opened his eyes, a fierce glint flashing deep within his turbid old eyes.

A condolence visit? That old fox Xue Mingzi is here to laugh at us.

Flying Cloud Fortress? Back when Master Qingmu was alive, Flying Cloud Fortress was nothing more than a watchdog.

"Reply to this post and say that the Qingmu Sword Sect will be closed for three months and will refuse all visits."

As for those traitors—" He paused, his voice sharp as a knife, "write them down. If the Green Wood Sword Sect survives this calamity, leave not a single one alive."

"Yes."

Iron Shark Island Council Hall

The sea breeze, carrying a salty, fishy smell, wafted through the stone temples of Iron Shark Island.

Ouyang Feiying and Yang Dingtian sat on either side of the main seat.

On the table lay a gold-embossed invitation—sent by Penglai Island, an invitation from the three giant islands to the East China Sea Alliance, inviting all forces in the East China Sea to participate.

The last such alliance was thirty years ago. At that time, the three giant islands demarcated their respective maritime boundaries at the round table, set the allocation ratio for pearl farms, coral mines, and salt transport routes, maintaining a fragile balance for thirty years. Seven people died at that alliance meeting.

Ouyang Feiying's gaze fell on the invitation, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest, making a rhythmic sound.

"King Qin Guang, shall we go or not?"

Yang Dingtian spoke calmly, but the way he tapped the edge of the invitation with his finger betrayed him—the force was just right, one tap after another, like striking a drum.

"The three major islands choosing this time to post is not without their ulterior motives."

Ouyang Feiying finally spoke, his voice not loud, but it echoed in the stone hall, "The Underworld has only swallowed up the Sea Sand Gang for a little over a month, and the salt transport route has not been fully digested yet, and they are already in a hurry to hold an alliance meeting."

He paused, a slight smile playing on his lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes: "On the surface, we're discussing important matters in the East China Sea, but in reality, we want to test the Netherworld's trump cards."

"That's why we should go even more."

He straightened up, placed his hands on the edge of the table, and said with a burning gaze, "If we don't go, they'll think the Underworld is guilty. Only by going can we let them know that the territory of the East Sea is not ruled by a few families."

Ouyang Feiying turned and glanced at him.

The two looked at each other for a moment, and Ouyang Feiying nodded.

"That's exactly what I was thinking." He stood up, walked to the palace entrance, turned his back to Yang Dingtian, and looked at the distant, hazy horizon. "We will go together on this trip. The Purple-Robed Dragon King, the White-Browed Eagle King, the Golden-Haired Lion King, and the Green-Winged Bat King will each lead ten elite warriors aboard the 'Netherworld' ship."

Yang Dingtian also stood up, slowly tucking the invitation into his sleeve, as if carefully placing a challenge letter close to his body.

"Three giant islands, thirteen great pirates of the East Sea, the envoy of the King of the East Sea..." Yang Dingtian laughed, "This alliance meeting will not be peaceful."

"Too much peace is boring."

Ouyang Feiying turned around, his black robe fluttering in the sea breeze.

The two walked side by side to the entrance of the palace and looked out into the depths of the sea.

Yang Dingtian suddenly said, "I have already mastered the seventh level of the Great Shift of Heaven and Earth."

Ouyang Feiying glanced at him.

"Once you reach the eighth level, you can attempt to become a Grandmaster."

Ouyang Feiying said, his tone carrying a subtle satisfaction, "The golden age will last for another three years. At that time, the spiritual energy tide will erupt, and Grandmasters will no longer be the pinnacle. The Underworld will need sufficient resources to survive the reshuffling."

Yang Dingtian's expression hardened, and he clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Understood."

Ouyang Feiying withdrew his gaze and looked back at the sea, his voice lowering as if speaking to himself: "So this alliance meeting isn't just about looking at what others have to offer—"

He paused for a moment, the sea breeze blowing into his black robe, making him look like a drawn sword.

"It's time to show them the power of the underworld."

Nameless desert island

The meeting was not held on any of the three giant islands.

Instead, it was an unnamed, desolate island, no more than a few dozen square miles in circumference.

The island is rugged and barren, with only a few clumps of withered thorns clinging to life in the cracks. In the center of the island, a naturally formed, flat reef has been temporarily covered with a stone platform and a pergola. The pergola's pillars are thick bamboo, and the roof is covered with tarpaulin, which crackles in the sea breeze.

The choice of a deserted island was supposedly to ensure fairness, so that no party would have a home-field advantage.

But everyone knows that this is just a cover-up.

The three giant islands agreed to meet on the deserted island because each had laid traps on its own—overt or covert spies, and reinforcements from near or far. Fairness was never just a slogan.

When the Netherworld's "Netherworld" arrived, the makeshift docks around the deserted island were already filled with boats of all sizes.

There are the armored warships of Giant Whale Island, with ferocious whale heads carved on their prows and twenty true energy cannons arranged on each side of the hull; there are the centipede speedboats of Ten Thousand Snake Island, slender like snakes, entirely black, and crawling with highly venomous sea snakes; there are the jade boats of Penglai Island, entirely emerald green, as if carved from a single piece of jade, with runes flowing on them, clearly not ordinary objects.

There were also various pirate ships belonging to the Thirteen Great Thieves of the East China Sea, some dilapidated and others with shiny new paint, and their flags were all kinds of patterns embroidered with skulls, sharks, blood-red scimitars and the like.

The sea breeze howled, and colorful flags fluttered in the wind, making the entire deserted island look like a makeshift battlefield.

"The Underworld—King Qin Guang has arrived! King Biancheng has arrived!"

The disciples from Penglai Island who were leading the way called out the names loudly, their voices sharp and clear, drowning out the howling sea wind.

Ouyang Feiying strode onto the rocky pier, followed closely by Yang Dingtian and the four Yin Marshals.

Ouyang Feiying, dressed in a black robe, had a cold and stern face. The aura of a Grandmaster at the second level was released without any concealment—not an aggressive outward display, but an invisible sense of oppression, like an undercurrent surging in the deep sea, unseen, yet making people instinctively want to retreat.

The leaders of many small factions on the docks glanced at each other and whispered among themselves.

"Is that the person who killed Sha Tongtian?"

"He doesn't look like someone to mess with. Sha Tongtian had been immersed in the first level of the Grandmaster realm for twenty years, but he was killed by him in less than a month."

"Shh—Shut up! How dare you say such things at the alliance meeting?"

"The East China Sea is about to change again."

Ouyang Feiying ignored him and walked straight to the alliance stone platform in the center of the island.