Chapter 275: Establishing Might

The Qingming Patrol Heaven Vessel hovered silently within the demarcated area beside the Fallen Star Sea, echoing in the distance with several other equally imposing flying magic treasures that represented the Ten Great Dao Institutes.

On the bow deck of the vessel, the two Nascent Soul late-stage instructors leading the Ninth Dao Institute's team were currently transmitting sound via divine sense with the team leaders of the other Dao Institutes, or slightly nodding in greeting.

Their simple exchange included familiar instructors joking with each other.

At that moment, the chaotic airflow at the edge of the rift surged violently, internal light and shadow twisted, emitting an increasingly strong suction and heart-pounding fluctuations of law.

The secret realm had indeed begun to preliminarily open, its spatial barrier growing thin.

However, astonishingly, all top powers, including the Twelve Hegemon Clans, had tacitly held back, with none daring to first charge into the seemingly open rift.

"Everyone is waiting." Qin Xue's cold voice rang in Wang Ping and Luo Qingyang's ears as she glanced over the composed elders of each clan.

"According to past experience exploring similar ancient secret realms, when it first opens, space is most unstable, filled with violent law turbulence and hidden spatial rifts; recklessly entering means ten deaths, no life."

"These two days are for letting the interior of the secret realm preliminarily stabilize on its own, and for allowing the destructive energy accumulated at this entrance to dissipate largely."

Luo Qingyang suddenly understood, grinning: "So that's it; I was wondering how this bunch of old fogeys could stay so calm."

Wang Ping nodded slightly, his eyes deep.

This two-day wait was not wasting time; rather, it was the last tranquility before the storm—a precious opportunity to observe opponents, gather intelligence, and adjust one's mindset.

The Ninth Dao Institute's instructors did not let the disciples merely wait idle on the vessel. One instructor with an ancient appearance flicked his sleeve, extending a rainbow bridge from the Qingming Patrol Heaven Vessel down to a temporary city built upon a massive star carcass at the edge of the Fallen Star Sea—called 'Starfall Gathering'.

The city was simple yet sizable, spontaneously gathered by cultivators of all clans, using huge stellar fragments as foundations and constructing temporary buildings from condensed light of various magical energies.

On the streets, crowds thronged, cultivators of every clan shoulder to shoulder, having indeed become the final stop for information exchange and resupply.

Wang Ping, Luo Qingyang, and Qin Xue followed some Dao Institute disciples into the city. The clamor, hawking cries, various strange languages, and spiritual fluctuations mixed together, forming a bizarre and dazzling atmosphere.

They headed straight toward the largest-looking building in the city—a five-story pavilion constructed from a kind of dark-red crystal, named the 'Hall of Hundred Clans', serving as an inn, exchange, and information hub.

Upon entering the hall, Wang Ping, Luo Qingyang, and Qin Xue were hit by a wave of heat mingling with the scent of alcohol, medicinal herbs, beastly musk, and various unfamiliar odors.

The hall was extremely spacious, accommodating hundreds of cultivators of diverse appearance.

The three found a relatively quiet corner by the window, sat down, and ordered a pot of the local specialty 'Stellar Dust Brew'; though they appeared to be resting, their divine senses had already silently spread out, catching fragments of information drifting in the air.

"... Have you heard? During the last opening of the secret realm, someone found a piece of Ten-thousand-year Lightning Struck Wood deep in the Thundercloud Canyon—a rare material for crafting lightning-type magic treasures!"

"What's more! The Sunken Land is said to hold an inheritance left by ancient body cultivators, with abnormal gravity—an ideal place to temper the flesh, yet extremely dangerous, as space often collapses."

"The Shattered Star Lake is truly strange; its bottom is said to connect to another dimension, occasionally spewing forth exotic spiritual plants and minerals not found elsewhere, yet the lake water hides spatial rifts, impossible to guard against…"

Various rumors about the interior regions of the secret realm, true and false, poured into the trio's ears.

Wang Ping silently cross-referenced this information with the vague hints from the Azure Feather Great Expert and the intelligence provided by the Qin Xue Clan, gradually sketching in his mind a rough map of the secret realm's interior and the key areas to watch.

Just as they focused their listening, a somewhat noisy clatter of footsteps and arrogant discussion came from the stairwell.

Five or six young cultivators in splendid brocade robes, their skin glowing with a faint golden light and pupils vertical, walked up. Their auras were not weak—all were late-stage Golden Core—and they carried an air of arrogance as they scanned the hall, their gazes openly scrutinizing and contemptuous.

"Tsk, this place doesn't look great either—spiritual energy is thin, and it's full of crude things."

The leader, a youth with a single horn on his forehead and an arrogant face, sneered; his voice wasn't loud, yet it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"Those Golden Scale Clansmen…" a cultivator murmured, recognizing their origin. The Golden Scale Clan, though not among the Twelve Hegemons, is still considered upper‑tier among the strong clans, famed for formidable defense and control of metal‑type arts, and has always been overbearing.

The Golden Scale Clan youth's gaze swept across the hall and finally landed on Wang Ping's table.

Mainly because Qin Xue's icy, peerless beauty and unique demeanor stood out too much in the crowd. A flash of lecherous light crossed his eyes as he swaggered over with his entourage.

"Fairy, which human faction do you hail from? This place is noisy; why not come to our Golden Scale Clan's outpost and sample our clan's Golden Liquid Jade Elixir?"

He directly ignored Wang Ping and Luo Qingyang, flashed a self‑considered suave smile at Qin Xue, and reached out to grab her wrist.

Although humans are one of the twelve major clans, their great numbers and innate weakness make them easy to provoke at low cultivation levels.

Even when peers clash, elders do not intervene.

Luo Qingyang's eyebrows shot up, his anger flared instantly, and a scorching aura faintly appeared around him.

A flash of cold light appeared in Qin Xue's eyes, and chill gathered at her fingertips.

However, someone was faster than them.

Just as the Golden Scale Clan youth's finger was about to touch Qin Xue's sleeve, Wang Ping, seated on the outer side, seemed merely to shift his teacup on the table unintentionally.

"Hum!"

An extremely faint, almost imperceptible spatial fluctuation sounded. The Golden Scale Clan youth felt his vision blur; though the icy‑blue sleeve was right before him, it seemed as if an invisible barrier had instantly appeared, his finger sliding past the sleeve's edge and grasping at air.

What startled him further was that, in that very instant, the metallic spiritual power circulating in his body exhibited a brief, uncontrollable stagnation; though it recovered instantly, it left a cold sweat on his back.

Wang Ping remained seated, holding his teacup, took a light sip of Stellar Dust Brew, and calmly gazed at the Golden Scale Clan youth as if nothing that had just happened concerned him.

"Huh?" The Golden Scale Clan youth's face darkened; though arrogant, he was no fool and instantly realized he had hit a hard obstacle. He fixed his stare on Wang Ping.

"Human brat, was that your doing just now?"

Wang Ping set down his teacup, his tone flat and unperturbed: "Show some respect. This place is not your Golden Scale Clan's territory."

"Die for it!" Feeling humiliated before his companions and the crowd, the Golden Scale Clan youth's anger surged from his heart; without bothering to investigate that strange stagnation, he threw a straight punch at Wang Ping's face.

The punch's wind was fierce, accompanied by a sharp golden‑iron tearing‑through‑air sound, clearly made with genuine rage.

This punch contained his late‑stage Golden Core metal spiritual power, enough to split stone and crack steles.

Many cultivators around looked on, some gloating, some worried.

Yet, facing this swift punch, Wang Ping didn't even change his posture.

He merely raised his right hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together, and pointed forward as if casually.

There was no grand spectacle, no brilliant radiance.

Just as his fingertip was about to contact the golden fist, the Golden Scale Clan youth horrifiedly discovered that the space within about a foot ahead of his fist had instantly become viscous beyond measure, as if plunged into an invisible mire, his speed plummeting.

Moreover, the metal spiritual power on his fist dissolved like snow under the sun, nearly half of it vanishing on its own.

Wang Ping's fingertip lightly tapped the opponent's fist, now devoid of force and dimmed in spiritual light.

"Thud!"

A muffled thud sounded. The Golden Scale Clan youth, as if struck heavily, felt his right arm go numb with sharp pain, his qi and blood surged, he staggered backward "step step step" seven or eight paces until his companions held him up, barely able to stand, his face full of shock and disbelief.

"Silence!"

The entire floor of the Myriad Races Hall fell suddenly quiet; many cultivators who had previously paid little attention now shot surprised glances.

The golden-scaled youth's strength was not weak; many of those present knew that.

Yet this human youth never left his seat from beginning to end; with merely a single finger, he so offhandedly drove him back and even neutralized his attack!

Such control of power, such grasp of timing, and especially that unfathomable, eerie technique capable of influencing others' spiritual power and space, is truly shocking.

"Five Elements flow, dissolving myriad laws… This youth's comprehension of Five Elements Dao Arts has reached perfection." An old cultivator of extraordinary insight whispered in praise.

"When did the Ninth Dao Academy produce such a figure?" Some also turned their gaze to Wang Ping's unremarkable Ninth Dao Academy standard blue robe.

The golden-scaled youth's face flushed green then white, shame and anger mingling, but fear predominated.

He knew the other side had just shown mercy; if the power contained in that fingertip were a third stronger, his arm would likely suffer more than mere numbness. He glared fiercely at Wang Ping.

He threw down a harsh, hollow threat—"You'd better wait for me!"—and, accompanied by a companion equally startled, slunk hastily out of the Myriad Races Hall.

Luo Qingyang laughed heartily, clapped Wang Ping on the shoulder: "Junior Brother Wang, nicely done! To deal with such clueless fools, this is how you do it!"

Qin Xue also gave Wang Ping a grateful glance, nodding slightly.

Wang Ping's expression remained calm, as if he had merely brushed dust from his sleeve.

He lifted his teacup again, his gaze turning once more to the dark‑red sky outside and the huge space rift, as if the earlier incident had never happened.

Yet after this incident, the report that "the Ninth Dao Academy has a blue‑robed disciple versed in Five Elements Dao Arts, whose power is unfathomable" spread like wings, quietly circulating in small circles.

Not a few of the non‑human geniuses who had previously not taken the Ninth Dao Academy seriously now couldn't help but steal several more glances at that calm figure by the window, silently committing his appearance and aura to memory.