The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 457 – Brainless

Seeing this, Mark felt an overwhelming discomfort.

He was deeply unsettled.

He knew John's strength. He knew the man wasn't afraid of Lard in the slightest. But still—if John made a move now, as a bald, anonymous figure, it would ruin everything.

What was the point of all the low-key behavior earlier?

It would become meaningless.

Mark had his own selfish reasons. He'd told John to keep a low profile—not just to help him avoid trouble, but because he wanted to owe John alone.

Yes, owe him alone.

That made a difference. There was a big difference between having one person owe you... and the entire world benefiting from your power.

John was barely in his twenties, yet possessed terrifying strength. His cultivation talent was nearly unparalleled across the entire Alps Mountain.

Once word of his power spread, the Alps would be in uproar.

This had nothing to do with the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will. Even if John wasn't the inheritor, his raw strength and freakish talent alone would have sects lining up to recruit him—faster than any lucky chance or prophecy.

Because the inheritor? That was an investment in the future.

But John? He was power in the present.

And that's exactly why Mark didn't want him to act.

But now... it was clear. The reason John was angry had nothing to do with Mark or the sect.

It was because Lard had disturbed Tracy's studying. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

How could a domineering man like John possibly tolerate that?

He was going to teach Lard a lesson.

Mark could only sigh in his heart.

Watching his expression, Faith frowned slightly.

That wasn't the reaction she expected from Mark.

She thought of how John had left just moments ago, with a chilling aura that had made her instinctively tremble. Something told her this wasn't as simple as it looked.

So when Violet asked her to act as a mediator, she refused.

It seemed cold. Ruthless, even.

But in truth? It was a test.

She wanted to see what gave this bald man the courage to insult and confront Lard—to call him a dog, no less.

"If he really has the ability, then he doesn't need my help.

If he doesn't, and still dares to be that arrogant—

Then he deserves to die."

She thought to herself, her gaze fixed on the man in the sky.

At that moment—

Lard stood suspended in midair, the sword beneath his feet trembling, eager to taste blood.

A divine weapon forged by Lard himself, the blade mirrored its master's fury.

And Lard was livid.

His killing intent surged like a tidal wave.

How dare this bald, hairless disciple from the Cinnabar Sect call him a dog?

Clearly, life in the sect had made them too comfortable.

Lard's eyes flashed with murderous rage as he laughed coldly.

"So the Cinnabar Sect is full of cowards," he sneered. "But here comes a hairless chicken trying to flap his wings and show off. So desperate to die?"

Originally, he'd only come to send a warning.

But now? A fool had thrown himself onto the chopping block.

Perfect.

John just shook his head.

"If you want me to die, you're not qualified," he said calmly. "On the contrary—if you don't want to die, get on your knees and apologize."

Gasps.

Everyone froze.

Was he crazy?

Lard was a Golden Crystal Realm cultivator, mid-stage.

And John was calling him a loser?

People's jaws dropped. Disciples trembled.

John had completely lost his mind.

"Arrogant bastard!" Lard growled. "Let's see how long that mouth lasts!"

Even Faith was getting pissed off.

She was in the same realm as Lard. If John called him a loser, did that mean she was a loser too?

How arrogant!

She was starting to doubt her earlier judgment.

For a moment, she'd genuinely wondered if John might be strong. But now, he just seemed like a clown—someone desperate for attention.

If he was so strong, why act like this?

To her, he was just another brainless poser.

"Go to hell!"

Lard didn't waste another word. He wouldn't stoop to arguing with a fool.

With a roar, a massive golden palm materialized in the air, crashing down toward John like divine judgment—its terrifying force enough to tear a man into bloody fragments.

An instant kill.

Everyone thought it was over.

Sherry even sighed dramatically.

"Poor bald brother... You've got the face, but not the brain. What a waste."

That was it, really.

He was too stupid.

Sherry hadn't really cared for him—she'd just found him attractive.

In the mortal world, with a face like that, he could've found a sugar mommy and lived a comfortable life.

But here?

This was the Alps.

A world of cultivators.

Looks were nothing if you had no brain.

She shook her head with a sigh.

Violet, too, sighed quietly.

Now she was sure—the only reason she'd tried to intercede for John earlier was guilt.

There were no deeper feelings.

She'd just thought Mark's punishment—kicking John out of the sect—was too harsh.

But now?

Even if he hadn't been expelled, he'd still end up dead for provoking someone like Lard.

No—it wasn't that Mark was too harsh.

It was that she had been too soft-hearted.

Some people, she now realized, didn't deserve pity.

Arrogant. Shameless. Lewd. Brainless.

People like John—were better off dead.

Violet let out a breath.

Finally at peace with her conscience.