After a long mont, Riley stood up and stretched deliberately, loosening his limbs and shaking off the tension.
A slow smile spread across his face—one of amusent and resolve.
"Well," he said aloud, voice light and steady, "if that's how it is, I'll entrust the heavy lifting to my clones. They're more than capable of gathering intelligence, probing weaknesses, and wearing down the enemy bit by bit."
He paused, eyes gleaming with a new kind of energy.
"As for ..." he added, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, "I'm going to have so fun."
Without hesitation, he called out to his wives, the thought of their company and shared pleasures a welco balm to his weary mind.
In that mont, the endless scheming faded into the background, replaced by anticipation and warmth.
"Where are we going, husband?" one of Riley's wives asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and excitent.
"I think he's taking us sowhere nice," another replied, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.
"I don't think so," a third chid in playfully, shaking her head with a mischievous grin.
One by one, Riley's wives began buzzing with anticipation, their excitent growing with every step.
Among them, Ruby watched silently for a mont before speaking up.
"Let co with you too, Master Riley!" she said eagerly, her eyes shining with a mixture of longing and determination.
She hadn't fully understood the depth of her feelings yet, but sothing inside her was pulling her closer to Riley.
She wanted to be near him—not just as a friend, but sothing more.
In truth, jealousy simred quietly beneath her composed exterior.
She envied the intimacy Riley shared with his other wives, their effortless closeness and the way he cherished each of them.
More than that, recent revelations had stirred sothing profound in her heart.
Her father had finally confided the truth about the battle in the void—the fight that had changed everything.
He was clear on one thing: Riley Mason was not just powerful; he was far stronger than anyone had dared imagine—even more so than her own father.
That knowledge reshaped Ruby's view of him entirely.
She found herself admiring him not only for his strength but for the calm confidence he carried. In her mind, there was no other man who could compare—no one more extraordinary, more worthy of respect and perhaps sothing more intimate.
As they moved forward together, Ruby resolved silently to draw closer to Riley, to learn from him, and maybe, in ti, to share a place in his heart.
The other wives glanced at her with varying expressions—so amused, so curious, others thoughtful—but all sensed the shift in the air, the way Ruby's presence added a new layer to their small, intertwined circle.
And Riley, walking at the center, felt a quiet warmth bloom inside him, knowing that his path was no longer solitary, and that those who followed him did so with hearts full of hope and desire.
"We'll go soplace nice."
That was all Riley said, his voice calm yet certain.
With a simple slash through the air, he tore open a shimring portal before them—a rip in the fabric of space glowing with faint blue light.
Without hesitation, Riley and his wives stepped through together, the world around them folding and shifting as they passed.
On the other side, they erged before colossal gates that towered toward the sky like ancient sentinels.
The gates themselves were crafted from a tal that glead like polished obsidian, etched with intricate runes that pulsed softly with spiritual energy.
Flanking the entrance, rows upon rows of finely armored guards stood at attention, their expressions stern but respectful.
Beyond the gates, a bustling crowd lined the wide avenue, stretching as far as the eye could see.
People from countless clans and sects gathered, their faces alight with a mixture of excitent, reverence, and curiosity.
Whispers floated through the air, spreading quickly as more and more voices spoke of the many good things about what they will do in this place.
The city itself was a marvel to behold.
Towering spires pierced the clouds, their tips shimring like stars in the sunlight.
Elegant bridges arched over crystal-clear canals, while vast plazas paved with jade and gold stretched between grand palaces and soaring towers.
Ornate banners fluttered in the breeze, each bearing symbols of ancient lineages and immortal sects.
The sheer scale and extravagance of the city gave it an almost otherworldly aura, as if it were a place woven from dreams rather than stone and mortar.
Its beauty was matched only by the palpable spiritual energy that thrumd through every street and building, making the very air feel alive with power.
"Wow! This is such a huge city!" one of Riley's wives breathed, eyes wide with wonder. "The grandest city I've ever seen in my life!"
Another wife nodded in agreent, her gaze drinking in the breathtaking sights around them.
Riley simply smiled, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.
This was a place worthy of their presence—and the next chapter in their journey and of course the place where they will have great fun soon. Official source is n̷o̷v̷e̷l̷f̷i̷r̷e̷
"Co. We don't need to wait here—let's go," Riley said in an unhurried tone, as if the line didn't even exist in his world.
Without sparing the waiting crowd a single glance, he led his wives forward, his confident stride drawing eyes from all directions.
His wives followed close behind, their beauty so striking that it seed to dim the colors of the world around them.
The crowd stirred imdiately, like a pond hit by a sudden stone.
"Look at these fools! Hahaha!" soone jeered from the back.
"They're cutting in line. Oh, they're in for it now," another added with relish.
"What a bunch of arrogant idiots… but those won—damn. I've never seen beauty like that in my life," a man muttered, greed and envy battling in his eyes.
So scoffed.
Others smirked, already imagining how satisfying it would be to watch these strangers get humbled by the city's gate authorities.
After all, no one—absolutely no one—skipped the line in front of the capital without paying the price.
The tension thickened as Riley reached the front.
Standing there was not a simple guard, but a figure who looked as if he had stepped out of a legend.
The Gatekeeper was a towering man wrapped in ornate armor engraved with runes that pulsed faintly with power.
His eyes were sharp and cold, like blades forged from ancient steel, and the re weight of his presence pressed against the souls of everyone nearby.
This was no ordinary city watchman—his cultivation was at the Ancient God Realm, a realm feared and revered alike.
To stand a single step beneath True Immortality was to tread in the domain of those who could decide the life and death of nations.
A man like this was not simply strong—he was a weapon, sharpened over countless years, and the fact that he was rely guarding the gate spoke volus about the power of the city they were about to enter.
The murmurs in the crowd quieted.
People began to lean forward, holding their breath, sensing that sothing unusual was about to unfold.
The Gatekeeper's gaze fell on Riley, then on the won behind him.
His brows drew together ever so slightly—not out of fear, but irritation at the audacity before him.
"You," the Gatekeeper's voice was deep, rumbling like a distant storm.
"Do you think this gate exists for you to stroll through at your whim? All who enter wait their turn."
The crowd's suppressed excitent flared instantly.
"Hah! Here it cos!"
"They're going to get tossed out on their faces."
"Maybe that pretty one in red will be left behind. I wouldn't mind catching her."
But Riley didn't slow. He didn't even acknowledge the man's authority.
His expression remained calm—almost bored—as if he were rely brushing past a servant at the door of his own ho.
That faint disregard alone made the Gatekeeper's fingers twitch toward the weapon at his side.
But before the Gatekeeper could so much as lift a hand to stop them, sothing small and unassuming flew lazily through the air.
It spun in a slow arc, glinting faintly in the sunlight, before landing neatly in his calloused palm.
It was a token.
Nothing ornate—just a dull, aged piece of bronze, its surface uneven from years of wear.
At first glance, it was utterly plain, the sort of trinket one might find at a back-alley stall.
The only design etched into it was the faint outline of an old man leaning on a cane, his hunched posture giving the impression of weakness.
The Gatekeeper's lips curled in the beginnings of a scoff—until his gaze truly registered what he was holding.
And then… his world froze.
That was no re carving.
That cane-bearing figure was not a symbol—it was a brand, a signature of an existence so ancient and terrifying that even the ntion of his na could send sects into exile and empires into chaos.
Reviews
All reviews (0)