An Understated Dominance

They waited like this for three whole days and nights. On this island, day and night alternated at a strange pace --- in the daytime the sun blazed like midsummer, yet at midnight one could see snow filling the sky. The soldiers took turns keeping watch outside the courtyard fence. They watched the morning glories bloom and wither again and again, watched the basket of wild fruit inside the yard empty and fill up once more, yet never again did the child appear, nor did the so-called immortal show himself. Whispers began to spread --- some said this was nothing but an empty island, and the child was merely a spirit guarding it; some secretly threw stones into the bamboo grove, only for them to rebound off an invisible barrier and smash into their own heads, leaving them bloodied. Li Juntang never said a word. Each morning, he would tidy his battle robe, bow respectfully toward the tightly closed bamboo gate, then sit on a rock with eyes closed, as if firmly convinced someone ins...

The instant Commander Zhang was sent flying, the entire courtyard seemed to freeze. The soldiers’ weapons fell to the ground with a clang . Their pupils widened in sheer horror, and more than a few unconsciously stepped back. Ankles struck against the bamboo fence, producing faint rattling sounds, yet no one dared lower their heads to look. Li Juntang’s longsword gave a sharp hum . He gripped the hilt with all his strength to keep it from slipping free, his fingertips scraping a red line across the cold scabbard. The child’s punch had been so fast it was like a lingering afterimage. That plump little fist carried no trace of force in the air, yet when it landed on Commander Zhang’s chest, it was like a falling meteor. Li Juntang had seen with his own eyes the breastplate crumpling like paper, the brittle snap of breaking ribs mixing with the grinding scrape of bone piercing his ears. “Commander Zhang…” One of his guards, trembling, tried to step forward to help, but froze after...

Li Juntang’s expression was grim. Not daring to linger, he quickly led his men to retreat into a safer area. Only after they had distanced themselves from that sinister place did everyone finally let out a long breath of relief. As the saying goes, tug a single thread and the whole web quivers --- just one soldier touching a single flower had set off such a violent chain reaction. It was truly terrifying. At this moment, Li Juntang and his men finally understood: This dazzling, colorful scenery was in fact filled with deadly peril. “Rest here. Remain on guard at all times,” Li Juntang ordered, leaning on his sword as he caught his breath. The wound on his back was soaked with sweat, stinging so badly that his vision nearly went dark. He motioned for two personal guards to keep watch while he leaned against a tree trunk to recover. In just a few short minutes earlier, they had lost more than a dozen skilled men. The loss gnawed at his heart. The medics were busy bandagin...

Li Juntang stood at the ship’s rail, gazing at the dreamlike island before him, his very breathing becoming cautious. Sunlight filtered through the towering ancient trees, scattering mottled light across the mossy ground. The air was thick with a strange floral fragrance --- sweet as honey, yet carrying a faint, refreshing sharpness. The soldiers behind him could no longer restrain themselves. One by one, they set down their weapons and reached out to touch the hanging vines --- vines adorned with crystal-clear fruits, like clusters of purple amethysts, refracting dazzling brilliance beneath the sun. “Your Highness, look at that tree!” one of his personal guards cried out in amazement. That giant trunk was covered in spiral patterns, resembling a naturally formed staircase. Within a hollow grew luminous fungi, illuminating the surroundings as brightly as daylight. A few squirrels with wings leapt down from the treetop. Their wings, as they fluttered, scattered glittering mote...

Li Juntang’s fleet was like leaves caught in raging waves within the Death Zone, torn and tossed about mercilessly. The giant waves, like moving hills, smashed onto the decks one after another, producing a deafening roar. The ships rocked violently, as if they might break apart at any second, the groaning of the wooden planks echoing endlessly, as though lamenting the destruction that was about to come. A soldier was swept into the air by a massive wave. He flailed his arms in despair, his scream instantly swallowed by the howling wind, and then he crashed into the sea. Before even much of a splash could form, the whirlpool had dragged him away without a trace. Li Juntang clung tightly to the railings of the ship, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, his nails digging deep into the wood. His eyes were bloodshot, locked firmly on the chaos before him. The mixture of seawater and sweat ran down his chiseled jawline. “Quick! Secure the ropes!” Li Juntang roar...

“Don’t mind me! Full assault! We must slay this monster!” Wan Zhong leaned against the broken ship’s rail, blood still seeping from the wound on his back. But he didn’t care in the slightest and directly ordered his soldiers to keep attacking the giant crab monster, just in case. In the end, under the relentless pursuit of the warriors, the giant crab finally stopped moving, completely losing all signs of life. Wan Zhong let out a long breath and collapsed to the ground, gasping heavily. This crab monster was truly a tough one. Fortunately, His Highness had brought many martial experts along on this journey, which made it possible to kill it completely. “Wan Zhong, I heard you were injured? How are you holding up?” Once the sea had calmed, Li Guanglong arrived quickly with a squad of personal guards. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. This small wound is nothing, it won’t kill me.” Wan Zhong grinned, revealing bloodstained teeth. “Back in the battlefield, I’ve taken wounds ...

The moment the giant pincer came crashing down, Wan Zhong’s single arm yanked hard on the capstan chain. His empty left sleeve snapped wildly in the gale, while the veins on his remaining right arm bulged as he wound the chain --- thick as a bowl rim --- around his waist, forcing the tilting hull back half an inch. “Form the iron-chain formation!” Wan Zhong’s roar shook the deck. Twenty sturdy soldiers immediately threw themselves forward, hammering the barbed hooks at the chain’s end into the ship’s side posts. When the giant pincer, carrying the power to shatter mountains, slammed against the chain, Wan Zhong’s knees buckled, his boots plowing two deep grooves into the planks. The metallic tang rising in his throat he forced back down. “This beast’s pincers can split metal and stone!” Wan Zhong glared at the cracks rapidly spreading along the chain. In a sudden burst of strength, he yanked the chain sideways. The pincer missed the mast by a hair, smashing a hole more than...