Immortal Supreme: Sovereign of the Grand Dao

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Within the confines of the cave, an intense battle raged.

Zaith stood at the epicenter, a whirlwind of motion as he deflected strikes from all directions.

His adversaries, though numerous, hesitated to approach too closely, as if wary of his potential.

Amidst the clash of weapons and the crackling of energy, Crixus's commanding voice pierced the chaos. "Enough!"

His order echoed through the cave, and the combatants hesitated, their weapons held at bay.

Crixus's gaze settled on Startell, the elder brother of Gregor.

With a simple nod, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

Startell, a seasoned warrior with a calm demeanor, stepped forward, his sword glinting in the ambient light.

With a cold expression, Startell's aura surged, manifesting his fifth-level sword concept.

"You are skilled. I can tell your skills were not forged in a training room but in a battlefield. You eyes are leaking bloodlust," Startell said.

The air seemed to shimmer around him, a testament to his mastery of the blade.

Facing Startell's power head-on, Zaith's eyes gleamed with a cold determination.

In response to Startell's display of strength, he bared his own power—a fourth-level slaughter concept, born of the fearsome Slaughter Dao.

It wasn't easy bringing his mastery all the way from fourth level slaughter intent to this level. But he had never used it in battle before.

'Now would be a good chance boy. For you to see how far you've come.'

The aura around him turned dark, a manifestation of his control over this deadly concept.

The clash between their concepts created an explosion of energy, the force of which sent shockwaves reverberating throughout the cave.

Spectators watched in awe and anticipation, understanding that they were witnessing a battle of titans.

Startell's sword whirled with unparalleled precision, each strike a testament to his skill.

Zaith's weapon moved in perfect harmony, his every motion a calculated response to his opponent's attacks.

The battle reached a crescendo, neither side giving ground.

Zaith's eyes were locked onto Startell's, a silent challenge passing between them. The skirmish had turned into a test of endurance and skill.

Yet, as time passed, a subtle difference emerged.

Zaith's movements grew a fraction slower, his energy waning ever so slightly.

It was a testament to the difference in their cultivation levels—the gap between the Sixth and the Eighth level of the Grand Martial Realm.

Startell seized the opportunity, his attacks growing more ferocious.

He pressed the advantage, seeking to exploit Zaith's diminishing defenses.

Zaith's face tightened with determination, his resolve unbroken.

As the battle waged on, Zaith's energy reached its limit. He knew he had to make a move before he was completely spent.

'I can only use this move without exposing my bloodline abilities.'

Drawing upon his well of power, he initiated a secret technique—an attack that unleashed a terrifying surge of energy.

'Raging Storm!'

The force of Zaith's attack caught Startell off-guard.

The warrior was sent hurtling backward, crashing into his comrades. The cave shook with the impact, dust and debris filling the air.

But Zaith wasn't finished. His eyes blazed with determination as he summoned yet another surge of energy.

This time, he launched an attack directed at Crixus.

The attack was powerful, yet Crixus managed to block it with ease, though it left him momentarily distracted.

Seizing the opportunity, Zaith vanished from sight.

His presence became obscured by Asura's power, shrouding him in a cloak of invisibility.

As he moved through the shadows into the forest ahead, he felt a surge of frustration. His attacks hadn't yielded the results he desired.

'I couldn't even make Crixus budge...' Zaith lamented.

Asura's voice echoed in his mind, 'Patience, Zaith. You are only beginning to unlock your potential. Your power will grow beyond their comprehension.'

Though vexed, Zaith held onto Asura's words.

He understood that this battle was but a stepping stone on his path to becoming stronger.

The world was his battlefield, and he was determined to leave an indelible mark upon it.

__________

A number of days passed and everyone has been growing stronger. Some had improved greatly, some had found powerful inheritances and even a few had died.

But the time had finally arrived.

A sudden transition occurred, and the world shifted around them.

A sensation of weightlessness filled the air as everyone was transported out of the Heavenly Sword Secret Realm.

When the world materialized again, they found themselves back at the familiar mountain summit where their journey had begun.

Elders and the Sect Leader stood waiting, expressions a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

Their gazes swept over the returning disciples, assessing the changes that had taken place during their time in the realm.

Whispers of amazement rippled through the crowd as people noticed the growth in their peers.

The members of the Invincible Sword Faction, in particular, had undergone remarkable transformations.

The Sect Leader's eyes gleamed with approval, his lips curving into a rare smile.

Amid the hushed murmurs, the Sect Leader stepped forward, his presence commanding attention.

The disciples instinctively gathered around, an air of reverence filling the space.

With a steady voice, the Sect Leader addressed them. "Welcome back, disciples of the Heavenly Sword Sect. I trust your experiences within the Heavenly Sword Secret Realm have been fruitful."

His words resonated with an undeniable authority, drawing their undivided focus. He continued, "You have all grown stronger, not only individually but as a united force. I have no doubt that the bonds forged within the realm will continue to shape the future of our sect."

A murmur of agreement swept through the disciples, their camaraderie evident in their shared experiences.

The Sect Leader's gaze swept over the crowd before he spoke of the rewards awaiting them. "In the coming days, you will have the opportunity to exchange your treasures and findings for sect contribution points. The sect will reward you generously for your efforts, particularly for any sword gems you have acquired."

He paused, his eyes holding a glint of humor. "Even our esteemed elders are in need of such valuable resources."

The disciples exchanged amused glances, acknowledging the idea that even the venerable elders were not immune to the allure of the treasures they had collected.

The Sect Leader's tone turned more serious as he shifted their attention to a significant item. "Now, my disciples, I must inquire—has anyone among you managed to lay claim to the Founder's Badge?"

A hushed tension filled the air as the disciples exchanged intrigued looks.

Balor looked at Arthur who nodded, and then with a mixture of humility and pride, he stepped forward and brought out a badge.

The revelation seemed to ripple through the crowd, the unexpectedness of it leaving many in awe.

"What? Is that the founder's Badge?" Many commented.

They wondered if Balor made it up when a great power suddenly swept the entire place and the badges of all the elders and even the vice sect leader and the sect leader flew towards Balor and then around him, before returning to their others.

This instantly dispelled all doubts as only a badge of higher authority and command the others including that of the sect leader's.

The Sect Leader's gaze shifted slightly, a hint of curiosity glinting in his eyes as he glanced towards Arthur.

It was clear that he suspected Arthur's influence in Balor's possession of the badge.

With an air of authority, the Sect Leader announced Balor's achievement. "In that case, it is my honor to declare Balor as the official Prime Disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect and our future Sect Leader."

A chorus of astonishment and whispers filled the air as the significance of the announcement settled in.

Balor's rise to prominence was unexpected yet undeniable. No one can speak against the founder's decision.

However, before the moment could fully sink in, a new voice cut through the air.

Crixus stepped forward, his eyes determined as he addressed the gathering. "Sect Leader, if I may, I wish to propose a challenge to the Prime Disciple."

The abruptness of Crixus's statement left the crowd in stunned silence.

The air seemed charged with tension as the Sect Leader regarded him with a raised eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

'Is this another ploy of yours?' he glanced at the Vice Sect Leader who looked unfazed.

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A/N: Golden Tickets and Power Stone Votes urgently needed...thanks to everyone for their support so far!