Volume One: The Game of the Manipulators Chapter Sixty-Five: An Unexpected Confrontation

Nearly two million experts at the eighth and ninth level of Immortal Emperor stood gathered—each one a paragon from their respective parallel universes, bearing unique qualities that set them apart. In the Heavenly Heart Realm, ninth-level Immortal Emperors were not uncommon, yet only a dozen or so could be deemed truly formidable, apart from Star Peak Immortal Emperor. Facing nearly two million peers of equal rank left even these mighty figures somewhat daunted; even Zhang Xingfeng now found himself overwhelmed.

When the numbers were only in the hundreds of thousands, he could still exert some intimidation. Now, with nearly two million, there was simply too much conflict to control, and managing it all was impossible.

Turin Star, a sizeable planet in the Heavenly Heart Realm, was renowned not only for its sheer size but also for its bustling prosperity. Lately, countless top-tier experts from various worlds had flocked here; on this planet alone, no fewer than a hundred thousand eighth and ninth-level Immortal Emperors had gathered.

In Qingyang City on Turin Star, at the Delightful Inn, ten figures from the Immortal, Demon, and Beast Realms sat together. Ordinarily, their strength made them indifferent to forming such a group, but as more and more peers arrived, they instinctively banded together without need for suggestion.

“I’ve finally learned what it means to be humbled. A so-called super divine beast at the eighth emperor level means nothing here,” Zong Jue declared, clutching a wine jug and drinking straight from it, forgoing a cup.

Arriving in the Heavenly Heart Realm had battered Zong Jue’s pride. Only he and Hei Yan Sect’s Feng Tang came from the Immortal, Demon, and Beast Realms, both at the ninth emperor level. Even Feng Tang, reliant on Hei Yan Sect’s flames and gravitational restrictions, was in no way inferior to Zong Jue.

Feng Tang glared coldly at Zong Jue, displeased. “Are you talking about me?”

“Talking about you?” Zong Jue laughed. “Brother, I meant the three of us,” he said, pointing at Man Qian, who was too dejected to speak.

Man Qian truly had nothing to say. Zong Jue still possessed a mysterious battle blade of unknown grade, while he himself had only a low-grade divine armor and nothing more.

“Enough with the long faces. Though two of you are eighth-level beast emperors and one is a sixteen-star emperor, your combined combat power still outstrips ours,” Hu Changfeng and Luo Changqing sighed with wry smiles.

Indeed, in terms of sheer combat ability, Hu Changfeng and Luo Changqing were likely the weakest among them.

“Hey, you lot, this table was reserved for us—get up.” Qin Shuang and his companions sat around a window table, chatting and drinking, when a small group of ten appeared, clearly eyeing their spot.

Zong Jue swept the speaker with his immortal sense—a beast emperor at the eighth level, though the species was unclear. But as an eighth-level beast emperor himself, Zong Jue had no fear. He unleashed his pent-up frustration. “Get lost, I don’t care if you reserved it or not. I’m drinking here—go find somewhere else.”

“Hah, an insignificant eighth-level beast emperor dares talk to me that way? Seems you’re tired of living.” Another member stepped forward, his power at the peak of the ninth-level beast emperor.

“And what are you? Don’t think being a ninth-level beast emperor is so impressive. Here’s your chance—go find a seat elsewhere. Keep pestering, and you’ll bear the consequences,” Ao Wuming said, coldly eyeing the ninth-level beast emperor.

Ao Wuming, a five-clawed golden dragon with an inherited dragon pearl, possessed superlative attack and defense. When it came to fighting, he feared nothing.

“Hmph, impressive, impressive,” sneered a sharp voice from behind the ninth-level beast emperor—clearly an avian beast.

Suddenly, the space trembled—a razor-sharp claw with only three fingers lunged at Ao Wuming, the surrounding space shivering under its power. The strike was strong enough to tear the fabric of space, but what was most terrifying was the beast’s control over its strength. The space trembled only around the three fingers; all force was concentrated there.

“Hmph.” Ao Wuming snorted, extending his right fist. It appeared to be a mundane punch from an ordinary mortal.

“Boom!” Fist and claw collided, fracturing the space around them, though the effect was localized. Ao Wuming’s wrist ached faintly. He hadn’t used the inherited spirit pearl’s power, believing his ninth-level beast emperor strength sufficient, but he was caught off guard and suffered a setback.

The ninth-level beast emperor who attacked fared no better, stepping back in surprise, evidently shocked by Ao Wuming’s strength.

“Haha, I told you—Zuo Wen, your true form as a super divine beast, the Golden Feather Goose, makes for impressive speed, but your attack is pathetic.” Next to the Golden Feather Goose, a burly man, bare-chested and wielding a spiked club, laughed heartily.

“Hmph!” Zuo Wen, the Golden Feather Goose, snorted and ignored the big man.

To face Ao Wuming, a five-clawed golden dragon, head-on and fall short by only a hair—was this really a weak attack? Even Qin Shuang was a little surprised.

But Zuo Wen’s expression confirmed the big man was right.

Ao Wuming felt annoyed. Saying the Golden Feather Goose’s attacks were weak was, in a roundabout way, saying his own five-clawed golden dragon’s attacks were weak.

“Hey, big guy, I’m curious—let’s see how strong your so-called powerful attack really is,” Ao Wuming retorted, rising and walking over to the burly man.

“Gentlemen…” The innkeeper, seeing the brewing fight, rushed over with an awkward smile. “Gentlemen, our establishment is too small for you to brawl in. I can see you’re all super experts from outside. How about this—Turin Star has dedicated arenas for duels. Why not go there? As for wine, our inn may be small, but we can offer each of you a fine jar.”

“Hmph, we don’t mind, but I worry some people might be afraid,” Zuo Wen said proudly, clearly unconcerned about Ao Wuming’s punch. Upon hearing the innkeeper, his immortal sense swept across Turin Star, confirming there were indeed many arenas.

“Afraid?” Zong Jue sneered. “Since I was born, I’ve never learned the meaning of fear.”

“Good.” Zuo Wen grinned ferociously, and in the blink of an eye, he and his nine companions vanished, their wild laughter echoing in the air.

“Ah…” Zong Jue turned to find the other eight, except Ao Wuming, staring at him uneasily. Only then did he realize something was amiss.

“Er…” Zong Jue was at a loss. He’d vented his frustration, but inadvertently dragged everyone else into this.

“I’m not worried,” Wen Feng shrugged and smiled. Since they were now a unit, Wen Feng didn’t try to break it apart; he understood the importance of unity better than anyone from the Immortal, Demon, or Beast Realms.

His words also represented the agreement of the other two from the Dark Star Realm.

“Heh, if there’s a fight, I’m all for it,” Wu Long licked his lips excitedly.

“Though my strength is lacking, if there’s a battle, I’ll be the first to join,” Man Qian said, his belligerent nature taking precedence over his frustration.

Ao Wuming, the instigator, naturally had no objections.

“This is for the best,” Qin Shuang said. “There’s only one spiritual treasure. Sooner or later, we’ll have to compete for it. Might as well eliminate the unqualified contenders early.”

Hu Changfeng and Luo Changqing nodded. Ever since Qin Shuang had intimidated Emperor Qing and saved them, both naturally followed his lead.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ao Wuming said, leading the way as the first to teleport.

The ten from the Immortal, Demon, and Beast Realms followed, unconcerned about the arena’s location—they only needed a sweep of their immortal senses to find their opponents.

“Whew, those troublemakers are finally gone,” the innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief.

“Innkeeper!” Qin Shuang’s voice rang out, startling the innkeeper so much he nearly jumped.

“You… you…” He sputtered, unable to speak.

“Wasn’t there a jar of fine wine for each of us?” Qin Shuang reached out, smiling.

In the far north of Turin Star lay a vast open field, surrounded by spatial restrictions. While these barriers didn’t hinder people much, they greatly blocked energy.

“Indeed, this is the ideal arena,” Zuo Wen smirked. “Here, we can fight without any reservations.”

“Haha, I’ll crush them all!” The burly, bare-chested man laughed excitedly.

“Only a fool knows how to use brute force,” scoffed the most refined-looking man among the ten. Despite the insult, both Zuo Wen and the big man listened to him with utmost respect.

“Boss, they’re here,” said the eighth-level beast emperor who first confronted Zong Jue, respectfully addressing the white-clad, scholarly youth.

(To be continued)