Zhì Yuǎn did not waste time walking.
He raised his right hand and simply pointed his index finger first at Mèng Lián's forehead, then at Zhào Fēng's. The wills of the two greatest leaders of the South were subjugated instantly. Without any resistance, both released the weight of their bodies and fell to their knees on the spiritual marble of the hall, bowing their heads in empty and absolute submission.
"Master," the two said in unison, their voices devoid of emotion.
Zhì Yuǎn lowered his hand and nodded to himself, like someone who understood what had gone out of control during the attempt with the swordsman outside.
"Good. This is the proper result," he remarked, his tone carrying the practicality of a craftsman who had just finished calibrating his instrument.
Mò Yán stepped forward. The diplomat halted before the two slaves and spoke without preamble. Her voice flowed swift and precise as she laid out in detail the structure of the intelligence networks they were to establish in the central cities, how to stockpile high-density Qi stones, and how to organize contingency plans for their arrival. Mèng Lián and Zhào Fēng kept their heads lowered throughout the entire explanation, absorbing every order without question.
When she finished, Zhì Yuǎn evaluated the two for a second.
"Good. Go amuse yourselves outside," he said, his rustic voice carrying a trace of indifference. "I still have to see which of those old men back there might be of use."
He extended his fingers toward them. Invisible Primordial Qi flew through the air and sank directly into the chests of the two patriarchs. Zhì Yuǎn shaped the energy according to the patterns of their Nascent Divinities, deliberately allowing the rest to leak.
The bodies of Mèng Lián and Zhào Fēng reacted immediately, undergoing drastic mutations of rejuvenation and mass gain, but Zhì Yuǎn ignored the physical transformation. He simply waved his hand.
Space flickered. The two slaves disappeared from the hall, teleported directly into the open courtyard.
The silence lasted a fraction of a second.
Outside, the Tribulation clouds still hanging heavily over the peak darkened once more. Thunder returned with force, rumbling through the air and making the entire dome tremble. This time, the lightning felt heavier, as though the heavens were visibly displeased at having to punish two more beings in such quick succession.
Zhì Yuǎn looked at the ceiling and shook his head.
"How temperamental," he commented.
Near the door, Yù Qíng and Bái Wǎn let out soft laughs, while Yù Méi laughed openly beside them. Mò Yán raised her silk sleeve to cover her face, smiling beneath her hand, genuinely amused by that light, humorous side of her husband.
In the seats around the table, the thirty-odd leaders of the upper clans who were still watching began to break out in cold sweat. Meanwhile, half of the elders and leaders of medium-sized sects present in the dome had already fainted from the roar of the thunder. Some… seemed to be merely pretending.
Zhì Yuǎn turned his face toward the rows. He raised his hand, ready to point his finger and subjugate the most useful members of the group.
Before the motion could finish, an elderly man at the back of the hall stood up with a jolt. He was a Grand Elder of the Immortal Sword Hegemony. Sect pride spoke louder than fear. The old man sucked in all the air in the hall, his face turning red and the veins in his neck bulging.
"The Immortal Sword would rather die than serve an evil being like you!" he roared.
The elder's body began to glow. He forced his own Dantian to collapse, prepared to explode and take the entire hall with him.
He did not have time to finish.
Yù Qíng appeared in front of him.
The old man felt only a cold piercing in his chest. When he lowered his gaze, the woman's hand had already driven through flesh and bone. Her pale fingers were wrapped around his still-beating heart.
The elder raised his eyes, meeting the empty gaze of the woman with the ordinary face who, until then, he had thought was merely a well-dressed servant.
"My husband is not an evil being, you worm," Yù Qíng said, her voice low and icy. "He is a god."
She clenched her fingers. The heart ruptured within the elder's chest.
At the same instant, Yù Qíng injected her own Qi directly into the ruptured veins. The energy descended like a blade and imploded the man's Dantian in one go. The core of the fourth pillar of the Sacred Vessel Realm turned to dust.
The old man spat a pool of dark blood onto the floor. Without the energy of the Sacred Vessel to sustain him, his body began to spasm in short, violent tremors. His eyes grew dim as he died slowly upon the marble.
Yù Qíng withdrew her hand from the elder's chest. Her immaculate skin came out completely clean, repelling the blood as if it were too filthy to touch her.
"He never needed any of you," she said, her voice low and cutting. "Give thanks to your ancestors for the fortune of being allowed to serve my god."
She turned her back and reappeared beside her sisters as if nothing had happened.
Yù Méi raised an eyebrow, surprised that Yù Qíng had dirtied her hands over a simple verbal offense. Bái Wǎn, on the other hand, looked at the eldest with eyes shining with fanatical admiration.
"That is correct, Big Sister," Bái Wǎn murmured, her voice low and heavy with devotion. "He is our god and must not be profaned."
Yù Méi let out a low whistle, somewhere between amused and concerned.
"Looks like I'm losing to the newcomer," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She then took her focus off the dead body on the floor and returned to watching the spectacle provided by her husband.
Zhì Yuǎn extended his fingers. Thirty drops of Primordial Qi shot through the air and sank into each of their chests. The mutations began quickly. The bodies swelled, forced youth tearing through the old leaders' veins.
He did not throw them into the palace courtyard. He had already understood the mechanics of the heavens' expulsion and preferred not to risk the structure of the Crystal Dome with thirty dimensional rifts opening in the same place.
He simply waved his hand.
Space flickered. The thirty slaves vanished from the hall, teleported en masse to a random region a few thousand kilometers away.
Good luck to whoever is unfortunate enough to be there, Zhì Yuǎn thought with dry cynicism.
In the center of the hall, he raised his right hand. Thirty-three invisible threads of Karma pointed toward the ceiling, firmly anchored in the upper plane. The logistics network was complete.
Zhì Yuǎn lowered his hand and turned his face toward the side rows.
Dozens of lesser leaders still remained — masters of vassal clans and weak elders who had not reached the final pillar of cultivation. They did not have the strength for forced ascension and waited in silence, unsure of what to do.
Zhì Yuǎn did not demand silver or keys. The small treasures of these people were not worth his time.
"The continent no longer has a government," he said, his rustic and direct voice filling the hall. "You may go. Disperse. You have a lot to restructure now that your leadership is dead. You will need to wake those old monsters living hidden in caves if you want to maintain order."
He turned his back to the audience and waved his hand.
"Out."
The crowd did not hesitate. Confused and trampling over one another in their haste to flee, the lesser leaders ran toward the exit, emptying the entire dome in less than a minute.
Yù Méi snorted. The youngest crossed her arms and kicked the leg of the jade table in irritation.
"We're not even going to take their coffers?" she complained.
Zhì Yuǎn ignored the tantrum. He looked at Yù Qíng and Mò Yán.
"It is a waste of time," he replied, shaking his head. "We seek true power. I want the Secret Realms of the other sects. I have long studied the Laws of this world. Those places contain sufficiently pure essence to truly strengthen what I am forging."
He turned his face and looked toward the wide-open door of the dome.
"We will remain here for another year or two. You will need that time to advance to the Second Transcendent Stage — the Tide Weaving — and stabilize the foundation you have gained. As for me, I have already comprehended enough to complete the soul cultivation method for you."
He raised his hand and waved once.
Mò Zhōng appeared in the same instant, still clad in a simple apron and holding a bamboo ladle, as though he had been dragged straight out of the kitchens.
Yù Méi burst into loud laughter the moment she saw the butler.
"Haha! Old man, what are you wearing?"
Mò Zhōng froze for half a second, then quickly stored the ladle and apron in his storage ring and bowed ninety degrees.
"I was merely preparing the dishes the First Lady requested, my Lady," he replied, his voice perfectly controlled.
"Forget that, Mò Zhōng," Zhì Yuǎn interrupted. He pointed toward the destroyed entrance of the dome. "I need you to renovate this Crystal Dome. Especially the front door and the courtyard. We're going to be staying here for a while."
Mò Zhōng raised his gaze. For a moment, his eyes stopped on the damaged structure. Then he lowered his head in a deep and firm bow.
"As you wish, my Lord. I will prepare the necessary materials."
He turned and departed without another word. From that moment forth, his entire focus was bent upon making that place worthy of his granddaughter's family.