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

Just as tensions were about to escalate and a conflict was imminent, a crisp clinking of teacups broke the stillness.

"Smack."

The King of the East Sea put down his teacup.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like an invisible blade, precisely cutting through the murderous intent and oppression that enveloped the entire area.

All eyes turned simultaneously to the purple-clad figure seated in the center of the viewing platform.

The King of the East Sea slowly stood up.

His movements were slow, even somewhat languid, as if he had simply been sitting for a long time and wanted to stretch his muscles. But the moment he stood up straight, everyone's heart involuntarily tightened.

An invisible aura emanated from him, like the prelude to a storm quietly rising on the sea. It seemed calm, but it concealed a terrifying power that could engulf everything.

"That's enough."

His voice wasn't loud, not even particularly loud, but every word seemed to be pressed down with immense force, clearly reaching the ears of everyone present, making their eardrums tingle slightly.

The entire room fell silent.

The sea breeze was still howling, and the waves were still crashing against the shore, but everyone involuntarily held their breath.

The King of the East Sea slowly swept his gaze across the entire arena. His eyes, seemingly gentle, possessed a sharp insight that seemed to see through everything, as if they could pierce through the deepest, most hidden thoughts in everyone's heart. Finally, his gaze settled between Dongfang Weiwo and the Wanfo Temple and the Heavenly Demon Sect—the place where the killing intent was strongest and the tension was most intense.

"This is the East Sea, my territory."

His tone was calm, as if he were merely stating a simple fact. But the meaning contained in those five words made everyone's hearts sink simultaneously—this was an ultimatum.

"You want to fight to the death on my territory? Did you even ask me?"

Master Liaoyin of Wanfo Temple frowned slightly, clasped his hands together, and spoke in a steady voice, but with a hint of caution: "King of the East Sea, this old monk has no intention of offending you. It's just that the matter of the celestial inheritance is of great importance, and this old monk is acting for the sake of all living beings..."

"Whether I have offended you or not, I know perfectly well," the King of the East Sea interrupted him rudely, his gaze sharp as lightning. "You desire the inheritance of the Celestials, yet you are unwilling to bully the weak and give others the pretext of bullying the weak, is that right?"

Master Liaoyin's expression changed slightly, but he did not refute it.

The Blood Shadow Elder emerged from the shadows, his crimson robes fluttering in the night wind. He stared at the King of the East Sea, a flicker of apprehension in his cloudy old eyes, but still managed a cold laugh: "What brilliant idea does the King of the East Sea have? Surely we can't let this brat take the benefits and run away?"

The King of the East Sea ignored the provocation in his tone and smiled slightly. That smile held a profound meaning, as if everything was under his control.

He raised his hand and pointed to the entrance of the distant, faintly visible tomb—the heavenly ladder still stood between heaven and earth, emitting a faint light, not yet completely closed.

"Since the inheritance came from the great tomb, then let's resolve it within the great tomb."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "Those prodigies who have entered the Great Tomb will settle their differences through a martial arts contest. Each side will wager the treasures they obtained within the Great Tomb; the winner will receive them."

His voice was calm and unhurried, yet carried an undeniable weight: "As for the Celestial Inheritance—if you wish to challenge Young Master Dongfang, so be it. But you must offer a treasure of comparable value. Otherwise, why would someone wager the Celestial Inheritance?"

Upon hearing this, the various factions exchanged bewildered glances.

This is indeed a compromise. It avoids direct, large-scale conflict—a situation no one wants to see, because once fighting starts, no one can guarantee they'll emerge unscathed—while also giving all parties an opportunity to compete.

Master Liaoyin of Wanfo Temple remained silent for a long time. Several warrior monks behind him looked at him, awaiting his decision.

The selfless young monk raised his head, glanced at his uncle, then lowered his eyes again, and began to spin the prayer beads in his hand even faster.

Finally, Master Liaoyin slowly nodded: "This method is feasible. On behalf of Wanfo Temple, I agree to this proposal."

The old man with the blood-red shadow licked his lips and smiled sinisterly: "Very well, let the younger generation compete. It'll save some people from accusing us of bullying children."

He turned to look at a young man in black beside him. The young man was about twenty-five years old, with a pale face, jet-black eyes, and a deep, dark aura swirling around him. He was the second-in-command of the younger generation of the Heavenly Demon Sect—Mo Wuyai, a Grandmaster at the peak of the second level.

"Wuya, you'll be competing tomorrow," the Blood Shadow Elder said coldly. "Don't embarrass me."

Mo Wuyai bowed slightly, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Uncle-Master, rest assured, this disciple will make him kneel and hand over the inheritance."

Chu Yunxiao stepped out from the Chu family's camp, his cold, arrogant gaze piercing Dongfang Weiwo like a blade: "A martial arts contest? He's just a late-stage Grandmaster; if he can last three moves, he'll be the winner."

His voice was filled with undisguised disdain, but deep in his eyes, a lingering resentment burned—on the Heavenly Ladder, he had been left behind by Dongfang Weiwo. This fact was like a thorn stuck in his heart.

Dongfang Weiwo glanced at him, his expression calm and his tone indifferent: "Then you're welcome to try."

These eight simple words convey no anger, no provocation, only an extreme calm of confidence.

Chu Yunxiao's eyes turned cold, his fists clenched, and he was about to speak when Chu Tianxing stopped him with a hand.

"Yunxiao, there will be plenty of opportunities tomorrow," Chu Tianxing said calmly, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the King of the East Sea and Dongfang Weiwo. "There's no need to rush."

Chu Yunxiao snorted coldly, suppressing his anger, and retreated.

Just then, the King of the East Sea suddenly took a step forward.

step.

With just this one step, an aura as vast as the sea erupted from his body. That aura was like a bottomless abyss, boundless and unfathomable, carrying a pressure that transcended the mortal realm.

It surpassed the peak of the Ninth Heaven.

It subtly touches upon a higher, more mysterious level.

Half-step Celestial Being.

The entire room fell silent.

The sea breeze seemed to stand still, and the waves seemed to freeze. Everyone, regardless of their cultivation level, felt a tremor welling up from the depths of their souls—

That is the instinctive awe one feels when facing a higher level of life.

Even the ninth-level peak experts like Master Liaoyin, Elder Blood Shadow, and Sword Nameless felt a sinking feeling in their hearts, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on them. They exchanged glances, both seeing shock and apprehension in each other's eyes.

Half-step Celestial Being.

The King of the East Sea has been hiding his trump card for twenty years, and today he has finally revealed just the tip of the iceberg.

"My proposal," the King of the East Sea said calmly, his gaze sweeping across the room, his tone gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority, "who agrees, who disagrees?"

No one spoke.

No one dared to speak.

Dozens of grandmaster-level experts and hundreds of prodigies from various forces dared not meet those eyes.

The only sounds on the sea were the wind, the waves, and people swallowing.