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

Deep within the Dragon Palace, more than ten Grandmaster-level auras awakened simultaneously, their fury sweeping in like a tidal wave.

The Jiaolong clan reacted faster than expected.

The moment Jue Wushen stepped into the outer hall of the Dragon Palace, four dragon shadows pounced from four directions simultaneously—four Grandmasters of the Flood Dragon Clan, ranging from the third to the fifth level, joined forces to form the "Four Dragons Trapping the Heavens Formation".

Four streams of dragon breath intertwined to form a giant golden net, carrying a power powerful enough to crush underwater mountains as it enveloped Jue Wushen.

"A trivial skill."

Without flinching or dodging, Jue Wushen unleashed his indestructible golden body to seventy percent, revealing mysterious patterns on his dark golden skin.

The giant golden net fell upon him, producing a piercing clang of metal clashing, and then… it shattered inch by inch. The pupils of the four dragon elders constricted sharply, and the leader roared, "How is this possible—"

Jue Wushen took a step forward and unleashed the second move of his Killing Fist: Shattering the Mountain. His fist slammed into the chest of the elder at the front, the force of the punch passing through his body. The dragon scales exploded from his chest to his back, creating a hole the size of a washbasin, and dark red dragon blood sprayed out like rain.

The elder didn't even have time to scream before he transformed into a hundred-zhang-long dragon and plunged into the sea.

The remaining three were terrified and tried to retreat, but Jue Wushen unleashed a strike with his left fist and right palm, blasting two more elders away, smashing three black iron pillars of the Dragon Palace's outer hall. The last one bit his tongue, forcibly activating his bloodline power, transforming into a streak of blood light and piercing into the depths of the Dragon Palace, his voice shrill: "Enemy attack! King Wushen has broken in!"

No God gave chase. He stood still, arms crossed, his dark golden body standing like an ancient demon god in the crumbling hall, causing the hundreds of dragon cultivators around him to retreat in terror.

"Send out the capable ones. Don't waste my time."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a furious dragon roar echoed from the depths of the Dragon Palace.

Three auras descended simultaneously—the Third Prince of the Flood Dragon Clan, leading two elders at the seventh level of Grandmaster, broke through their cultivation barriers. The Third Prince transformed into human form, his face handsome yet sinister, dragon horns faintly appearing on his forehead, his vertical pupils fixed intently on Jue Wushen.

"There is no god! Your underworld is going to war with the entire sea race?!"

"A war?" Godless scoffed. "With your strength?"

The Third Prince, enraged, laughed coldly. He raised his hand, and a longsword forged from ten-thousand-year-old cold iron appeared in his palm: "Today I will show you the true power of the Flood Dragon Clan—"

Before he could finish speaking, Jue Wushen had already moved.

The third move of the Killing Fist: Breaking Army. This punch is faster, more ruthless, and more unreasonable than the previous two moves.

The Third Prince's dragon-scale sword was just about to be held in front of his chest when his fist arrived—the dark golden fist energy collided with the sword, the millennia-old cold iron bent and deformed on the spot, the Third Prince's tiger's mouth cracked, and the sword flew out of his hand.

Jue Wushen's second punch followed immediately, slamming into the Third Prince's shoulder, shattering the dragon scales and splattering blood.

"You're too slow," Jue Wushen's voice was cold. "Have you been at the seventh level of Grandmaster for too long, thinking all the experts in the world are as slow as you?"

Before he finished speaking, two Grandmaster-level auras erupted simultaneously behind him—the two elders attacked from both sides, one wielding a dragon claw and the other exhaling dragon breath, their attacks perfectly coordinated.

There is no god who does not flash.

The dragon's claws struck his back with a loud clang, but his indestructible golden body remained unmoved. The dragon's breath slammed into his chest, causing ripples to spread across his dark golden skin before vanishing without a trace.

"Tickling?"

Jue Wushen turned around and delivered a punch to each side. Both elders coughed up blood and flew backward.

The Third Prince clutched his shattered shoulder, his face ashen white: "You... what level is your Indestructible Golden Body...?"

"Nine Heavens." Jue Wushen approached step by step. "No fancy moves. It's all earned through sheer hard work, punch by punch."

He grabbed the Third Prince by the collar, lifting this proud son of the dragon clan into the air like a chick: "Go, call out everyone in your clan. Or—call out your ancestor. Let's see who can take a beating."

The Third Prince's face was ashen.

Deep within the Dragon Palace, the aura that had been dormant for ten thousand years finally stirred.

On the sea, lies Wanshe Island.

Song Que sat cross-legged on the highest reef atop the island, his green robe fluttering in the sea breeze. The Heavenly Blade lay horizontally before him, its blade devoid of luster, yet blending seamlessly with the atmosphere of the entire sea.

With his eyes closed, his divine sense had already covered all the waters within three hundred miles of the Flood Dragon Abyss.

After a stick of incense has burned, three Grandmaster-level auras are rapidly approaching from the eastern sea area of ​​Jiaolong Abyss—the Jiaolong Clan's reinforcements are arriving from another sea clan stronghold deep in the East China Sea.

Song Que's fingertips twitched slightly, and the Heavenly Blade was drawn three inches from its sheath. An invisible blade intent slashed out smoothly across the sea, silently crossing three hundred miles of ocean, and gently grazed in front of the three-headed dragon grandmaster.

The three dragons stopped abruptly, their pupils shrinking sharply. A three-zhang-wide, bottomless chasm had been cut open in the sea before them, and the water on both sides of the chasm seemed to be frozen by some invisible force, unable to close even after the time it takes to brew a cup of tea.

The blade of intent grazed their noses, neatly shearing off a section of the underwater mountain range, which was a hundred feet high.

The three-headed dragons looked at each other and slowly retreated.

The Heavenly Blade Song Que, once drawn, is a weapon of choice; but when drawn, it draws blood. But today, he is merely issuing a warning—the meaning is clear: take another step forward, and the next strike will not be a mountain-slicing slash.

Song Que sheathed his sword and closed his eyes again.

"Leave the Dragon Palace to Jue Wushen. I'll cut off their retreat."

On the same day, at the headquarters of the Loose Cultivator Alliance on Juxing Island, in the central part of the Seventy-Two Islands of the East China Sea.

Tie Zhongtang stepped onto the island, his blood-red banner planted atop the highest point in the center, its surface fluttering like blood in the sunlight. He brought no soldiers, only the banner and himself, standing before hundreds of cultivators from the Loose Cultivator Alliance.

The leader of the Loose Cultivator Alliance is an elderly man at the sixth level of Grandmaster, surnamed Han, and known as "Sea Madman".

He narrowed his eyes, staring at the blood-red banner behind Tie Zhongtang, his voice deep and menacing: "Tie Zhongtang, heir to the Iron-Blooded Banner, you've come to my Juxing Island alone, are you here to die?"

Tie Zhongtang smiled faintly:

"Alliance Leader Han, I have three things to say. First, Jiaolong Abyss is currently under attack, and your scouts should be returning soon. Second, the power structure in the East Sea is about to change; the Underworld has come and has no intention of leaving. Third—"

He raised his hand and pointed at the Iron Blood Banner: "This banner is in my hands, it represents the righteous path. This banner is in your hands, it represents the evil path. Alliance Leader Han has lived for so many years, he should understand that there is no such thing as good or evil in this world, only who stands and who lies down. Do you want to stand, or lie down?"

Hai Fengzi remained silent for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Then the scouts from the Loose Cultivator Alliance stumbled in, their faces deathly pale:

"Alliance... Alliance Leader! The Five Observation King, Wu Shen, single-handedly broke through seventeen outer barriers of the Dragon Palace! The Third Prince of the Flood Dragon Clan was severely injured, and nine Grandmasters were all blasted out of the Dragon Palace with a single punch each!"

The entire room fell silent.

Hai Fengzi stared at Tie Zhongtang for a long, long time, finally sighed, stood up, and cupped his hands in a gesture of respect: "The Loose Cultivator Alliance... is willing to follow in the footsteps of the Underworld."

Tie Zhongtang smiled and returned the greeting.

Deep within the Dragon Palace, Jue Wushen shattered the last defensive formation of the Flood Dragon Clan with a single punch.

Seventeen restrictions, nine grandmasters, and the Third Prince of the Flood Dragon Clan—all were crushed by him alone. With his Undying Golden Body operating at full power, the Flood Dragon Clan's dragon breath, dragon claws, and dragon roar techniques only left a few white marks on his body, unable to even break through his defenses.

But the aura that had been dormant for ten thousand years in the deepest part of the Dragon Palace finally stirred.

The entire Dragon Palace trembled violently, and the seawater within a radius of a thousand miles surged and boiled simultaneously. An extremely terrifying pressure slowly rose from the deepest part of the seabed, and all the dragon clan cultivators knelt on the ground, trembling all over.

The old dragon has awakened.

The ancient dragon, tens of thousands of feet long, burst forth from the seabed crust. The moment it shattered the earth, the resulting tsunami surged towards the sea surface, creating towering waves hundreds of feet high. Even the island of Ten Thousand Snakes, hundreds of miles away, felt a violent tremor.

The dragon raised its head from the underwater canyon, its single eye as large as a palace, its pupil flashing with millennia of vicissitudes and boundless rage.

"Who...dares...to...distur...my...peaceful...cultivation—"

The sound was like a thousand thunderclaps. Under this pressure, the indestructible golden body that Jue Wushen was so proud of showed a real crack for the first time—the white mark on his chest left from practicing his fist suddenly burst open, and blood seeped out.

Half-step Celestial Being.

Moreover, he was a half-step Celestial Being who had been cultivating for ten thousand years, making him several times stronger than the three Supreme Elders of Qinglong Temple combined.