The sea had no edge.

  White Jade Capital drifted like a cloud that had forgotten how to rain.

  No route, no anchor—just horizon in every direction.

  Lu rolled along the island’s spine, wind teasing his hair.

  Ning Zhao walked three paces behind, silent and lethal.

  Ni Yu trotted beside the chair, black pot clanking, Little Yinglong snoring on her head.

  “Young Master,” Ni Yu finally burst, “what now?

  We’re literally in the middle of nowhere.

  I’ve counted every blade of grass. Twice.”

  Lu tapped the armrest.

  Bored maids were dangerous maids.

  A thought—soul light flared.

  A miniature Dao Stele rose from the grass, three feet tall, humming with the same pressure that once crushed continents.

  Ni Yu squeaked. “That’s the real one?!”

  “Close enough.”

  Lu flicked two beams of jade script into their foreheads.

  Stele-Suppressing Palm—four tiers: Entry, Minor, Major, Perfection.

  A Xuan-tier slaughter art that could pretend to be Earth-tier when angry.

  “Daily schedule,” Lu announced.

  Ni Yu:

  - 3 hours Dao Stele

  - 2 hours Palm drills

  - 5 hours ten new pill recipes (Qi Condensation to Heaven Lock, no training wheels)

  Ning Zhao:

  - 4 hours Stele

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  - 2 hours Palm

  - 5 hours sword until the sea splits

  Little Yinglong:

  - Get beaten until scales shine

  Ni Yu wilted like over-boiled cabbage.

  “Young Master, are you the devil?”

  The dragonet giggled—then whimpered when Lu’s gaze landed.

  Lu ignored the drama.

  He sank into the Preaching Platform, palm glowing milk-white.

  Slap—air caved into spiderweb cracks. Minor.

  Slap—phantom stele crushed the void. Major.

  He stopped there; Perfection needed blood, not math.

  Exiting, he checked the quest log.

  Still silent.

  “Make the world forget White Jade Capital” required more than three months of hiding.

  Fine. Legends fermented slowly.

  He summoned the baby-shaped Avatar Fruit.

  One bite = one spare life.

  He rolled it across his knuckles like a coin.

  …

  *Day 1* after vanishing:

  The world held its breath.

  *Day 5:*

  Scouts poured into North Luo.

  Empty lake.

  Everyone agreed: gone for real.

  *Month 1:*

  Spirit-stone mines became battlegrounds.

  New sects sprouted overnight, copying White Jade Capital’s homework.

  *Month 2:*

  The map redrew itself.

  - *One Academy:* Great Xuan Academy, banners screaming “Next White Jade Capital!”

  - *Two Nations:* Xiliang (Overlord’s iron fist) vs Great Xuan (scholar-soldiers)

  - *Three Sects:*

  - Painting Sect (Sima Qingshan + brush)

  - Body Sect (Tang Yimo + fists)

  - Haoran Sect (Kong Nanfei + righteous fury)

  - *Four Pavilions:*

  - Dao Pavilion

  - Sword Pavilion

  - Heavenly Secret Pavilion

  - Ink Pavilion—assassins for hire, bounty board topped by “Overlord, price: bragging rights”

  *Month 3:*

  Tianyuan’s four giants landed in East Sun Prefecture:

  Martial Emperor City, Heavenly Void Palace, Absolute Blade Sect, Royal Qian Palace.

  Native sects sharpened swords.

  Wolong Ridge turned toll road.

  Entry fee: one spirit stone.

  Jackpot for whoever opens the Ninth Hell Gate.

  …

  *Second Hell—Chu River City*

  Overlord floated above the rebirth pool, four crimson crystals exploding into dust.

  Four-Pole Heaven Lock—bones singing like dragons.

  Leaderboard:

  - Zhong Nan: 190 li (2nd city visible)

  - Feng Yilou: 190 li

  - Nie Changqing: 190 li

  - Kong Nanfei: 180 li

  “Still too slow,” Overlord growled.

  “Purple crystals in the third gate… that’s the express lane.”

  He cracked his neck and charged again.

  …

  *Imperial Capital — Black Dragon Cult*

  Liu Yuanhao sat on a frozen throne, frost-flame dancing on his palm.

  “One Academy, Two Nations, Three Sects, Four Pavilions…”

  He crushed the flame; ice shards rained.

  “A chicken girl gets a sect. We get nothing. Why?”

  The hall knelt in silence.

  “Three months. The world’s still tiptoeing.”

  He leaned forward, smile sharp as winter.

  “Time to light the fuse.”

  To Black Dragon Guard One:

  “Tail the Overlord. Intercept every pigeon.

  If he leaves Wolong Ridge—scream.”

  To the cult:

  “Contact Ink Pavilion. They hate him too.

  And I’ve hired a Tianyuan gold-badge assassin—rank ten on their list.”

  A cautious elder: “My lord, if Overlord goes berserk—”

  Liu Yuanhao laughed, tea cup freezing solid in his grip.

  “Then we’ll learn how loud a dragon roars when the tiger’s asleep.”

  He stood, frost-flame cloak billowing.

  “White Jade Capital hid.

  Someone has to remind the world how to bleed.”

  Outside, storm clouds gathered over the capital—

  the first real thunder since the immortal island vanished.