When Jalen appeared inside the palace with Ameer and the six guards at his side, silence fell for only a heartbeat before chaos erupted.
Dozens of palace guards—ranging from peak Immortal Realm to Sage Realm experts—surged forward. Their qi flared, blades gleamed, and killing intent filled the chamber. Among them were faces once feared, even the previous emperor of Ron, now reduced to a name on Jalen's hit list.
Jalen's aura did not flare. His body did not move. Only his spirit sense unfolded. In an instant, the guards froze. Their eyes widened, and their bodies trembled. Then, one by one, their spirit seas shattered. The sound was not of steel clashing but of minds breaking. They collapsed lifeless, their existence erased as though they had never been.
The man upon the throne—a usurper cloaked in regal robes—watched in horror. He came from the third branch of the Yellen royal family, one of fifteen distant relatives dispatched to occupy the territories Yellen had seized when Ron State was divided. Alina, once a town and later the capital, had been handed to him as his domain. His cultivation was bolstered by Yellen's resources, but his authority was borrowed, not earned.
He had believed himself untouchable, his family among the most powerful on the Erias continent, surrounded by top-tier experts as protection. He dreamed of using this place as a stepping stone to rise in rank within his clan. But in a flash, all of that disappeared. The worst part was that he did not even know how it happened—his early Imperial Realm was too weak to perceive Jalen's strike. His body trembled, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
The usurper opened his mouth, desperate to speak, to plead, to bargain with Emperor Ameer. But Jalen gave him no chance. His spirit sense struck again, sovereign and merciless. The man's spirit sea shattered, his body collapsed, and his ambitions were extinguished.
And just like that, Immortal Realm, Sage Realm experts, and Imperial Realm cultivators—existences deemed top-tier in many regions of the world—were slain like chickens beneath the butcher's knife.
When the echo faded, silence returned. Ameer stood beside him, his eyes wide, his breath shallow. Experts who could destroy him with a sneeze had fallen like insects. Master Jalen was at a level he could not fathom. Even Will and Company, veterans of countless battles, were stunned. They had seen power before, but never like this.
Jalen's voice cut through the silence, colder than steel. "Free the city. Hunt down every infiltrator, every traitor, every enemy hiding in Alina. Leave none alive."
The six guards bowed deeply, their faces grim. They did not hesitate. They surged outward, qi blazing, blades drawn.
Jalen then turned to Ameer, his gaze steady. "Aren't you going to sit on your throne, Your Majesty?"
Ameer's eyes lowered, his voice trembling. "I don't feel worthy. You handed me the throne because you trusted me to be a leader, and I lost it because I was too weak. I still am weak."
Jalen's hand rested on his shoulder, firm and steady. "Then get stronger. And stop doubting yourself, unless you want the world to laugh at me for picking such a weak disciple."
Ameer's lips trembled, then curved into a faint smile. "I apologize, Master Jalen. Going forward, I will never disgrace you again."
Jalen nodded. His qi flared, lifting Ameer's body gently, placing him upon the throne. "For now, meditate. Tomorrow we will set things straight. We will take back all of Ron. And this time, we'll make it so grand that snakes will think a hundred times before daring to strike."
His aura folded, and his body vanished, leaving Ameer alone upon the throne. The boy closed his eyes, his spirit sea steadying, his breath deepening. He meditated, his resolve firm. He would not falter again.
Meanwhile, screams echoed throughout the palace as Will and his comrades tore through palace guards like paper. Though a few Sage and Immortal Realm experts remained, they were early stage—and no match for six Peak Sage Realm experts. The slaughter did not end there.
Lightning arcs from Will split corridors; Raye's fire qi roared through hidden chambers; Elias's metallic fists shattered armor and stone; Lionel's wind blades swept spies from rooftops; Latia's gravity pinned traitors to the ground; and Tobias's void swallowed mercenaries into silence. Their combined storm of qi tore through the palace like a tempest unleashed.
From the palace gates to the farthest districts, the purge spread. Barracks were emptied, dens uncovered, and traitors dragged into the open. Families who had been forced into silence watched from windows as the invaders were cut down. For months they had endured heavy taxes that bled merchants dry, soldiers who seized food from homes, and the disappearance of neighbors who dared to speak against Yellen's rule. Mothers had hidden their children from patrols, and fathers had bowed their heads to survive humiliation. Now, as the oppressors fell, the weight lifted.
Some citizens trembled at the violence, others wept with relief, and soon the streets filled with voices rising in unison. Bells rang, doors opened, and for the first time in half a year, Alina breathed free. Children clung to their mothers, whispering that the nightmare was finally ending, while young cultivators vowed aloud to defend their home should enemies return. The city was no longer just liberated—it was reborn.
Yet not all enemies perished. A handful of spies and mercenaries slipped through hidden tunnels and checkpoints, but it was the people who carried the story further. In neighboring cities and towns, news of Alina's upheaval split into gossip—tales of royal guards cutting down traitors, bells ringing across the capital, and the emperor reclaiming his throne. Whispers filled taverns and marketplaces, unsettling the garrisons of the three occupying powers. Some dismissed the stories as exaggeration, but others grew pale, sensing that Ron's resurgence was not a dream but a storm gathering on the horizon.