Villains Aren't Stepping Stones!-Chapter 100: Celebrating the th - !
The Northern Continent’s winds, already capable of flash-freezing a mortal in seconds, seemed to grow even more colder as the spiritual pressure around the ancient stone gates reached a boiling point.
Xue Bing’er stood at the vanguard of the Ice God Palace disciples, her blue hair whipping like a banner of frost against the white horizon.
She didn’t move, her arms remained crossed over her chest, and her silver eyes remained fixed on the swirling golden patterns etched into the monolithic entrance.
"Sect Master, the gates are still emitting a high-frequency spatial pulse. They are repelling everyone who approaches within fifty paces," noted one of her inner sect elders, a man whose beard was literally a cluster of icicles. "It probably hasn’t been fully opened yet. If we force our way in now, the spatial backlash could shatter a Golden Core foundation."
"Hmm. If my calculations are correct, based on the thinning of the localized ley lines, it wouldn’t be long before it fully opens. Perhaps another two hours," another elder added, squinting through a specialized spirit-glass monocle.
"I guess we have no choice but to wait," Xue Bing’er said, her voice like the cracking of a glacier.
She was patient, a trait honed by decades of meditating in sub-zero caves.
However, her patience was immediately tested.
Just then, a thunderous, wet roar echoed across the tundra, vibrating through the very soles of their boots.
Xue Bing’er’s brow twitched, her expression shifting from cold neutrality to visible annoyance. "That obnoxious noise... he’s here."
"Look! Up in the clouds! It’s the Blue-Scaled Water Dragon!" a rogue cultivator shouted, pointing a trembling finger. "That’s the signature mount of the Sky Water Sect!"
"Even they are here!? Two of the Three Great Powers of North have already assembled!"
"What chance does rogue cultivators like us have!?"
In the sky, the spectacle was undeniable.
A draconic beast, hundreds of miles long with scales the color of a deep, stormy ocean, tore through the cloud layer.
It didn’t just fly; it swam through the air, leaving a trail of torrential rain that froze into hail before hitting the ground.
The dragon roared once more, a sound that forced lower-level Foundation Establishment experts to cover their ears in agony, before it coiled its massive body and landed a few miles from the gates.
Then, several figures jumped from the dragon’s head, gliding down with practiced elegance.
Leading them was a man who looked to be in his late twenties, though his eyes held the depth of an ancient sea.
He had long black hair tied with a blue silk ribbon and eyes that glowed with a faint, bioluminescent light.
"It’s Sect Master Shui Heng!" the crowd whispered in hushed, fearful tones. "The strongest person in the Northern Continent! A 1st stage Nascent Soul Cultivator!"
In Saint Burial Realm, a Nascent Soul realm cultivator is the absolute pinnacle of power, and can only be found in the Divine Continent.
It is incredibly rare for a Nascent Soul expert to appear in one of the four continents.
In the entire Northern continent, only Shui Heng was known to be a Nascent Soul expert.
Shui Heng ignored the thousands of gazes fixed upon him, his movements were fluid, almost predatory, as he scanned the crowd.
When his eyes landed on the slender back of Xue Bing’er, a wide, confident smile broke across his face as he walked toward her, his footsteps leaving puddles of unfrozen water on the permafrost.
"Bing’er! It seems you arrived earlier than I did," Shui Heng called out, his voice smooth and carrying an irritatingly familiar warmth. "With two of our Sects gathered here, only the Conferred Pagoda is missing. Once they arrive, the Three Great Powers of the North will finally be assembled. It’s a rare occasion, wouldn’t you say?"
Xue Bing’er turned slowly, her silver eyes as sharp as a ritual dagger.
"Sect Master Shui," she stated coldly, the air between them beginning to crystallize. "Please refer to me as Sect Master Xue. We are not that close, nor do I have any desire to be. Besides, by the records, you are two hundred years my senior, and you are of the same generation as my grandfather. Have you forgotten your manners in your old age?"
Shui Heng chuckled, unfazed by the frost in her voice as he stepped closer, invading her personal space with the arrogance that only a Nascent Soul expert could afford. "Come now, Bing’er. We’re both Sect Masters here. We stand at the peak of this world. Besides, as a Golden Core expert, you can easily live for a thousand years. What’s a measly two-hundred-year age gap between peers? It’s practically a heartbeat."
"Sect Master Shui, please respect yourself and the position you hold," Xue Bing’er glared at him, taking a step back, her aura flaring.
Small snowflakes began to orbit her body, each one sharp enough to decapitate a Foundation Establishment warrior.
She was barely restraining her desire to draw her blade.
"Come on, I—" Shui Heng started, intending to continue his flirtatious banter.
His words were cut off by a high-pitched, melodic cry that pierced through the wind and the dragon’s lingering growl.
It was a sound of pure authority that everyone instinctively looked up and saw a streak of crimson burning through the grey sky, moving with a speed that defied the laws of physics.
"That—!?"
"The Phoenix-tailed Red Sparrow!"
"It’s the Conferred Pagoda! The Conferred Pagoda are here!"
The massive bird, its feathers shimmering with a heat that didn’t melt the snow but seemed to transcend it, descended with a grace that made the Blue-Scaled Water Dragon look like a clumsy earthworm.
As the sparrow’s aura expanded, it didn’t just challenge the other mounts; it completely suppressed them.
The Water Dragon lowered its head in submission, and the Three-Legged White Crow tucked its wings, trembling.
Hiding in the shadows of a nearby ice crag, Jiang Chen felt a sudden, violent surge of adrenaline.
Beneath his tattered brown cloak, his body shook—not from the cold, but from a boiling, poisonous resentment.
The familiar aura of those Shen clan dogs was unmistakable. It was the aura of the people who had trampled his pride and treated him like a joke.
’Those Shen dogs... they’ve arrived,’ Jiang Chen thought, his teeth grinding together so hard they bled.
His fists clenched, his nails digging deep into his palms until crimson droplets froze against his skin.
But he ignored the pain, his eyes fixed on the descending sparrow with the intensity of a demon. ’Just you wait, you dogs of the Shen clan... I will make you pay for every drop of blood I’ve spilled. I am the Child of Fate, and this realm will be your tomb!’
The Sparrow landed with a soft thump, the heat from its wings creating a circle of dry, warm earth in the middle of the ice.
Then, four figures jumped down.
Shen Haoran led the way, his midnight-blue robes fluttering slightly.
Behind him were Qing’er, Ling Luochen, and lastly, the legendary Elder of Conferred Pagoda herself, Shangguan Mu’er.
Instantly, the thousands of gathered cultivators erupted in a cacophony of noise.
"That! That’s Shangguan Mu’er! The ’Strongest Expert Under The Heavens’ in the Saint Burial Realm!"
"Even someone of her status was attracted by this secret realm!? The treasures inside must be beyond our imagination!"
"Wait... hey, look at them! Why is she walking behind those two?"
The realization hit the crowd like a physical blow as they observed closely.
Indeed, the legendary Shangguan Mu’er—a woman who could destroy most sects with a flick of her sleeve—was walking three paces behind Haoran and Qing’er.
Her head was slightly bowed, her posture defensive yet unmistakably subservient.
The rogue cultivators and even the disciples of the Ice God Palace stared in stunned silence.
Who were these two youths? To have a Nascent Soul expert of the Conferred Pagoda act as a servant was a level of prestige that didn’t exist in the Northern Continent.
Even Shui Heng, who considered himself the "Strongest," felt a cold sweat break out on his back as he felt the unfathomable depth of the aura radiating from the young man in the lead.
Haoran walked toward the massive stone gates, ignoring the thousands of eyes as he stopped just ten paces from the entrance, where the repelling force was at its strongest.
He didn’t even flare his Qi; the golden light from the gates seemed to part naturally as he approached, as if the realm itself recognized its true master.
He looked up at the ancient runes, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"So this is it..." he murmured, his golden eyes reflecting the shimmering light. "Hmm, judging from its aura, this realm belonged to someone who is already Half-step into the Supreme Emperor Realm."
Considering the experts from the distant forgotten past were more powerful than the experts of today, this expert would probably be more than a match for average modern Emperor like the Bright Silver Emperor.
Well, it’s understandable. Even amongst the Emperor level, the Bright Silver Emperor can only be considered as the bottom of the barrel, an Emperor gatekeeper, so to speak.
If the Bright Silver Emperor knew that he was being used as a combat power measurement, he’d probably cry.
Haoran removed his gaze from the gate and looked around, and instantly, he noticed someone at the very back, wearing a tattered cloak, trying hard to remain inconspicuous.
He noticed the figure flinch, and Haoran immediately retracted his gaze and smiled.
At the very back, Jiang Chen couldn’t help but feel a cold sweat, his entire body shivering not from cold, but from that absolute, primal fear.
’Did he... Did he notice me!? No, that’s impossible! If he did, then he would’ve already attacked! Yes, it must be a coincidence. Yes, just a coincidence.’
He shook his head, hiding behind the mobs and waited for the gate to open.
