Not a single sect in the Eastern Wasteland could boast such grandeur, yet in this one day alone, three had gathered in the space before Saint King Yunteng's Tomb.
Compared with the treasure ship, palace, and leaf, the great sects of the Eastern Wasteland had already lost in sheer presence.
"Are these sects from other regions?"
"I've never seen artifacts like those. They must be from other regions."
Many Eastern Wasteland cultivators clicked their tongues. They had thought the great sects of the Eastern Wasteland were grand enough, but now they saw that beyond every great person stood someone greater, and beyond every mountain rose another mountain.
The mountain kings of the Eastern Wasteland amounted to nothing in the outside world!
The sea-blue treasure ship, majestic palace, and green leaf each occupied one side, directly surrounding Saint King Yunteng's Tomb.
The palace floated in midair, and a commanding voice rang out from within, matching the splendor the palace itself displayed.
"Ants of the Eastern Wasteland, you have half an incense stick's time to get out of here."
"If you still fail to recognize your place after that, don't blame me for showing no mercy."
"You haven't even reached the cultivation of a Saint, yet you dream of obtaining a Saint King's inheritance. How laughable!"
Those three short sentences revealed a disdain that ran bone-deep.
"This is the Eastern Wasteland. Saint King Yunteng's Tomb lies within the Eastern Wasteland to begin with. Who might you be, and what standing do you have to drive us people of the Eastern Wasteland away?"
An elderly man in the Radiant Body Realm slowly stepped forward, treading on empty air as he looked toward the palace, neither servile nor overbearing.
Countless Eastern Wasteland cultivators had already flushed with anger upon hearing the voice from the palace. Now that the old man had spoken first, many could no longer hold back and stepped forward.
"Exactly! This inheritance belongs to our Eastern Wasteland. We've already been more than fair by not driving you outsiders away. What standing do people from other regions have to drive us out?"
"It's not as though our Eastern Wasteland has no Saints. They simply haven't shown themselves yet!"
"Do you hold the Eastern Wasteland in such complete contempt that you would humiliate its people like this?"
"How absurd! Saint King Yunteng's Tomb doesn't belong to you. Do you think we'll leave just because you tell us to?"
"This is the Eastern Wasteland, not some other region. It's not your place to run wild here!"
Once a cultivator had taken the lead, those who stepped forward afterward spoke with increasing harshness. By the end, they were practically about to curse the man's ancestors without restraint.
The cultivators who spoke up were not necessarily doing so for the dignity and reputation of the Eastern Wasteland's cultivators. Most had their own considerations as well. Many knew that unless they united today, they would likely lose any chance of obtaining the inheritance in Saint King Yunteng's Tomb.
"Hmph. A pack of fools who don't know what's good for them." The voice within the majestic palace carried a hint of disdain.
In his eyes, the clamoring cultivators were no different from a pack of children who knew nothing of the immensity of heaven and earth, except that these cultivators were even more annoying than children.
Rumble...
An invisible pressure swept outward from the majestic palace. The Eastern Wasteland cultivators who had been clamoring incessantly a moment earlier were instantly forced flat against the ground, unable to move.
Crack...
A few hot-tempered cultivators tried to climb back up, only for that terrifying pressure to shatter their bones.
Bang... bang... bang...
Several successive blasts rang out. The cultivators lying on the ground raised their heads with difficulty, only to see that not one of those who had just spoken had escaped. Every last one had exploded into a cloud of bloody mist, leaving not even a single corpse behind.
"This is the price a mayfly pays for trying to shake a tree."
"The weak should behave like the weak. Since you dared defy me like this, don't blame me for treating you harshly."
"For the last time, anyone who has not left within three breaths must not blame me for showing no mercy."
Under this threat, countless Eastern Wasteland cultivators wore expressions of despair, trembling uncontrollably as they lay prostrate on the ground.
This was strength-absolute strength!
The world of cultivators was a pure world, but it was also a cruel one. The gulf in strength left many of them able to do nothing but lie on the ground and shiver.
"Heh, I'd like to see just how harshly you intend to treat them." An aged voice echoed across the sky.
Countless cultivators raised their heads with difficulty. At the head of the arrivals stood a white-haired old man, none other than the Supreme Sword Sect's patriarch from before!
"The Supreme Sword Sect, once the fifth-ranked force in the Eastern Wasteland, is here!"
"Is that the Supreme Sword Sect's patriarch? He seems to be in the Sainthood Realm too!"
"Wonderful! We're saved!"
"Hmph, let those outsiders take a good look. Our Eastern Wasteland isn't without Saint-level experts!"
"Hurry up and teach them a lesson!"
The Eastern Wasteland cultivators still lying prostrate on the ground cheered. Although most had no connection to the Supreme Sword Sect, they had just been bullied as "Eastern Wasteland cultivators." Now that a Saint of the Eastern Wasteland had appeared, they could not help feeling that their backer had arrived!
This was the Eastern Wasteland!
As natives of the Eastern Wasteland, they had not even said anything, yet cultivators from outside had told them to "scram" without a second thought. It truly cost them too much face.
The Supreme Sword Sect's arrival had clearly given countless Eastern Wasteland cultivators a measure of confidence.
"It's been a long time. The Nine Heavens Pavilion is still as arrogant as ever," the Supreme Sword Sect's patriarch said coldly.
His gaze fell upon the majestic palace, yet he remained neither servile nor overbearing. Compared with the incomparably lavish palace, the Supreme Sword Sect looked far more modest.
"The Supreme Sword Sect? After all these years, I thought you'd collapsed long ago, just like the Vast God Pavilion. To think you're still barely hanging on!"
An old man in white slowly walked out of the palace, his white beard fluttering. He looked like an immortal sage, but his words were not the least bit polite.
"After muddling along all these years, you've finally managed to become the master of the Eastern Wasteland? What are you putting on airs for in front of me now?" As soon as the white-robed old man finished speaking, more than a dozen figures floated out behind him.
"Su Bowen, stop talking nonsense! When did our Supreme Sword Sect ever become the master of the Eastern Wasteland? Besides, our sect has always been content to keep to its own corner and has never sought to make enemies of others." The Supreme Sword Sect's patriarch's expression tightened.
That Su Bowen from the Nine Heavens Pavilion still has such a venomous tongue. Ordinarily, I could let him spout his nonsense, but the Primordial Hall exists in the Eastern Wasteland now!
With that Hall Master's knowledge of everything from the heavens above to the earth below, if I don't show a stronger will to survive, won't the remaining half of the Supreme Sword Sect be destroyed too?
Su Bowen had not expected the Supreme Sword Sect's patriarch to be so furious, and felt somewhat surprised.
Thinking back carefully, he seemed to have heard something about a "Hall Master" amid the Eastern Wasteland cultivators' clamor.
Does that have anything to do with the Supreme Sword Sect's current attitude?
Su Bowen stroked his beard as he pondered.