The Sanatan Flame Sect marched forward in formation— weapons drawn, spiritual senses sharpened, every disciple alert and ready.

Only one person walked differently.

Shaurya.

Hands in pockets.

Relaxed shoulders.

A lazy sigh leaving his mouth as if he were strolling through a park instead of a collapsing ancient castle.

Lin Shu walked beside him, sword in hand, eyes scanning every shadow.

Lorgann, tiny and molten, clung onto Shaurya's shoulder, eyes darting everywhere like a paranoid watchdog.

The group took five more steps—

RUMBLE.

The ground trembled.

RUMMMMMMMBLE.

The walls shook.

The air vibrated.

A low groan rolled through the stone like the castle itself was waking up.

Then everything began to quake violently.

The entire hall jerked sideways.

Cracks split across the floor.

Loose stones clattered from the ceiling.

The Sanatan Flame Sect disciples staggered.

Elders shouted at once:

"EVERYONE—TAKE YOUR GUARD!!"

Swords were raised.

Spears pointed outward.

Formations tightened.

Auras surged.

Elder Wan barked orders:

"Protect the weak! Group up!! Don't scatter!"

Wang Tian and Luo Chen rushed to the front lines instantly.

Lin Shu stepped closer to Shaurya, blade drawn.

Meanwhile, Shaurya simply exhaled a long, irritated breath.

"Not again…"

The ground trembled harder as if in response.

Scene shift—

Everywhere inside the ancient castle: Different sects. Rival disciples. The two royal families. Independent cultivators.

Everyone froze as the walls shook violently around them.

Light flickered. Stone cracked. Platforms crumbled.

Outside—

In the vast world of the secret realm— a massive distortion rippled across the sky.

The dark ceiling twisted like swirling storm clouds. Rivers of spiritual wind changed direction. Glowing runes along the sky flickered and dimmed.

The entire realm was rearranging itself.

Then—

DING.

A golden system window popped before Shaurya's eyes.

[Host, the Secret Realm is unstable.]

[Two days left before total collapse.]

Shaurya blinked.

Then—

He smiled.

"Oh, finally. We can go home."

He stretched his arms upward.

"Tsch. I miss my bed."

The system hissed:

[HOST—TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!!]

Shaurya waved dismissively.

"Mhm, mhm."

Then it happened.

The castle didn't just shake…

It moved.

The walls vibrated— then dissolved into shimmering particles.

Columns of stone melted like mirages. Ceiling chunks evaporated into glowing dust.

Elder Liya shouted:

"EVERYONE, FORM TIGHTER FORMATION!"

The disciples closed rank around Shaurya instinctively.

BOOOOM—

The entire hall tilted.

Then—

KRRRRRRR—BOOOOOM—

The floor beneath them shifted sideways, then upward, then flattened out again.

It felt like standing on the back of a giant beast that was stretching after a long slumber.

Shaurya raised an eyebrow.

"This castle needs some oiling."

Lorgann groaned.

"HUMAN, PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY FOR ONCE—"

Another tremor cut him off.

The remaining walls around them disintegrated entirely—

Replaced by swirling light, like portals expanding.

All halls merged.

All corridors connected.

All chambers fused.

The castle brought everyone—

EVERY SINGLE CULTIVATOR INSIDE—

into one colossal space.

Where a hall once stood…

now lay a giant valley.

Not a fake illusion— a real, massive hollow inside the castle's core.

High stone cliffs curved like natural amphitheaters.

Broken platforms floated as islands in midair.

Streams of spiritual mist drifted between fissures.

Echoes of distant rumblings filled the air.

Ancient formations glowed faintly beneath the ground.

Sanatan Flame Sect ended up together on a large rocky ledge overlooking the valley.

But they weren't alone.

On every cliff, platform, and open space:

– Moonlight Pavilion

– Roaring Tiger Sect

– Thunder Valley

– Azure Orchid Clan

– The two royal families

– Rogue cultivators

– Hidden sect experts

Everyone was gathered.

A few gasped.

Some took a defensive stance.

Others backed away, terrified by the unknown.

"What… happened…?"

"The castle brought us all here?"

"Why!?"

"Is a final trial coming?"

Shaurya narrowed his eyes.

He felt… pressure.

A strange one.

Not the castle's ancient will.

Not a random beast.

Something else.

Something dark.

Something arrogant.

And—

Something extremely powerful.

The ground under their feet dimmed.

A dark aura erupted in the distance—

above a large floating cliff that levitated like a throne pedestal.

Everyone turned sharply.

"What is that aura!?"

"Whose presence is that!?"

"It feels… suppressive…"

Even Lorgann growled low on Shaurya's shoulder.

"This… is no ordinary cultivator."

Dark mist condensed in the air.

A black ripple spread across the sky.

Then—

FWOOOOOOM—

A platform emerged from the void.

Not stone.

Not spiritual condensation.

Something royal.

Ancient carvings of dark serpents. Metallic sheen of unknown alloy. Floating effortlessly like a divine seat of judgment.

Then—

A throne materialized.

Tall.

Black.

Elegantly curved.

Decorated with mysterious symbols glowing faint violet.

And from the throne—

a voice rolled out.

Calm.

Smooth.

Young.

Arrogant.

"Oh… everyone is here."

A wave of silence cut across the valley.

Elders straightened.

Disciples froze.

Even the arrogant sects swallowed hard.

Lin Shu instinctively moved closer to Shaurya.

He placed a hand over hers in reassurance.

The dark aura vanished instantly—

Replaced by a figure.

A man.

A young man seated upon the throne as if he were born for this exact moment.

Dark robes cascading like midnight waterfalls.

Long hair black as void.

Eyes a cold, piercing grey—calm, emotionless, ancient.

Shoulders broad, posture straight.

A sword rested beside him—sheath dark as obsidian, one hand lightly gripping its hilt.

He exuded pressure—

Not loud.

Not destructive.

But suffocating.

Like the silent gravity of a planet.

A predator's calm.

A king's arrogance.

A god's disinterest.

Sanatan Flame Sect disciples tensed.

Elder Feng Yu muttered:

"This spiritual pressure… is unnatural."

Lorgann hissed softly.

"That aura… I do not like it."

The man on the throne tilted his chin slightly.

A cold smile tugged at his lips.

Shaurya's eyes widened for a moment—

then he chuckled softly.

A smirk curled at his mouth.

"Well," he muttered under his breath.

"I guess the final boss decided to appear."

Lin Shu shot him a worried glance.

Shaurya rolled his shoulders, golden aura faintly flickering around him.

"Good," he murmured.

"I was getting bored anyway."

The mysterious man's lips curved—

as if he had heard Shaurya's words…

and found them amusing.

The Sanatan Flame Sect marched forward in formation— weapons drawn, spiritual senses sharpened, every disciple alert and ready.

Only one person walked differently.

Shaurya.

Hands in pockets.

Relaxed shoulders.

A lazy sigh leaving his mouth as if he were strolling through a park instead of a collapsing ancient castle.

Lin Shu walked beside him, sword in hand, eyes scanning every shadow.

Lorgann, tiny and molten, clung onto Shaurya's shoulder, eyes darting everywhere like a paranoid watchdog.

The group took five more steps—

RUMBLE.

The ground trembled.

RUMMMMMMMBLE.

The walls shook.

The air vibrated.

A low groan rolled through the stone like the castle itself was waking up.

Then everything began to quake violently.

The entire hall jerked sideways.

Cracks split across the floor.

Loose stones clattered from the ceiling.

The Sanatan Flame Sect disciples staggered.

Elders shouted at once:

"EVERYONE—TAKE YOUR GUARD!!"

Swords were raised.

Spears pointed outward.

Formations tightened.

Auras surged.

Elder Wan barked orders:

"Protect the weak! Group up!! Don't scatter!"

Wang Tian and Luo Chen rushed to the front lines instantly.

Lin Shu stepped closer to Shaurya, blade drawn.

Meanwhile, Shaurya simply exhaled a long, irritated breath.

"Not again…"

The ground trembled harder as if in response.

Scene shift—

Everywhere inside the ancient castle: Different sects. Rival disciples. The two royal families. Independent cultivators.

Everyone froze as the walls shook violently around them.

Light flickered. Stone cracked. Platforms crumbled.

Outside—

In the vast world of the secret realm— a massive distortion rippled across the sky.

The dark ceiling twisted like swirling storm clouds. Rivers of spiritual wind changed direction. Glowing runes along the sky flickered and dimmed.

The entire realm was rearranging itself.

Then—

DING.

A golden system window popped before Shaurya's eyes.

[Host, the Secret Realm is unstable.]

[Two days left before total collapse.]

Shaurya blinked.

Then—

He smiled.

"Oh, finally. We can go home."

He stretched his arms upward.

"Tsch. I miss my bed."

The system hissed:

[HOST—TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!!]

Shaurya waved dismissively.

"Mhm, mhm."

Then it happened.

The castle didn't just shake…

It moved.

The walls vibrated— then dissolved into shimmering particles.

Columns of stone melted like mirages. Ceiling chunks evaporated into glowing dust.

Elder Liya shouted:

"EVERYONE, FORM TIGHTER FORMATION!"

The disciples closed rank around Shaurya instinctively.

BOOOOM—

The entire hall tilted.

Then—

KRRRRRRR—BOOOOOM—

The floor beneath them shifted sideways, then upward, then flattened out again.

It felt like standing on the back of a giant beast that was stretching after a long slumber.

Shaurya raised an eyebrow.

"This castle needs some oiling."

Lorgann groaned.

"HUMAN, PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY FOR ONCE—"

Another tremor cut him off.

The remaining walls around them disintegrated entirely—

Replaced by swirling light, like portals expanding.

All halls merged.

All corridors connected.

All chambers fused.

The castle brought everyone—

EVERY SINGLE CULTIVATOR INSIDE—

into one colossal space.

Where a hall once stood…

now lay a giant valley.

Not a fake illusion— a real, massive hollow inside the castle's core.

High stone cliffs curved like natural amphitheaters.

Broken platforms floated as islands in midair.

Streams of spiritual mist drifted between fissures.

Echoes of distant rumblings filled the air.

Ancient formations glowed faintly beneath the ground.

Sanatan Flame Sect ended up together on a large rocky ledge overlooking the valley.

But they weren't alone.

On every cliff, platform, and open space:

– Moonlight Pavilion

– Roaring Tiger Sect

– Thunder Valley

– Azure Orchid Clan

– The two royal families

– Rogue cultivators

– Hidden sect experts

Everyone was gathered.

A few gasped.

Some took a defensive stance.

Others backed away, terrified by the unknown.

"What… happened…?"

"The castle brought us all here?"

"Why!?"

"Is a final trial coming?"

Shaurya narrowed his eyes.

He felt… pressure.

A strange one.

Not the castle's ancient will.

Not a random beast.

Something else.

Something dark.

Something arrogant.

And—

Something extremely powerful.

The ground under their feet dimmed.

A dark aura erupted in the distance—

above a large floating cliff that levitated like a throne pedestal.

Everyone turned sharply.

"What is that aura!?"

"Whose presence is that!?"

"It feels… suppressive…"

Even Lorgann growled low on Shaurya's shoulder.

"This… is no ordinary cultivator."

Dark mist condensed in the air.

A black ripple spread across the sky.

Then—

FWOOOOOOM—

A platform emerged from the void.

Not stone.

Not spiritual condensation.

Something royal.

Ancient carvings of dark serpents. Metallic sheen of unknown alloy. Floating effortlessly like a divine seat of judgment.

Then—

A throne materialized.

Tall.

Black.

Elegantly curved.

Decorated with mysterious symbols glowing faint violet.

And from the throne—

a voice rolled out.

Calm.

Smooth.

Young.

Arrogant.

"Oh… everyone is here."

A wave of silence cut across the valley.

Elders straightened.

Disciples froze.

Even the arrogant sects swallowed hard.

Lin Shu instinctively moved closer to Shaurya.

He placed a hand over hers in reassurance.

The dark aura vanished instantly—

Replaced by a figure.

A man.

A young man seated upon the throne as if he were born for this exact moment.

Dark robes cascading like midnight waterfalls.

Long hair black as void.

Eyes a cold, piercing grey—calm, emotionless, ancient.

Shoulders broad, posture straight.

A sword rested beside him—sheath dark as obsidian, one hand lightly gripping its hilt.

He exuded pressure—

Not loud.

Not destructive.

But suffocating.

Like the silent gravity of a planet.

A predator's calm.

A king's arrogance.

A god's disinterest.

Sanatan Flame Sect disciples tensed.

Elder Feng Yu muttered:

"This spiritual pressure… is unnatural."

Lorgann hissed softly.

"That aura… I do not like it."

The man on the throne tilted his chin slightly.

A cold smile tugged at his lips.

Shaurya's eyes widened for a moment—

then he chuckled softly.

A smirk curled at his mouth.

"Well," he muttered under his breath.

"I guess the final boss decided to appear."

Lin Shu shot him a worried glance.

Shaurya rolled his shoulders, golden aura faintly flickering around him.

"Good," he murmured.

"I was getting bored anyway."

The mysterious man's lips curved—

as if he had heard Shaurya's words…

and found them amusing.

TO BE CONTINUED…