Chapter 152: Chapter 152: Supre Hall
The echoes of the final roar in the Divine Arena had barely faded before the winds of political change began to howl through the world.
As the cheers from Shen Haoran’s victory settled, the observers sent by the rival Nine Immortal Clans, the Twelve Immortal Sects, and the various sovereign kingdoms of the Central Region began to lt away into the shadows.
Their movents were swift and silent, like ghosts retreating before the dawn.
They had co with a singular purpose: to confirm the rumors of the Shen Clan’s decay.
For decades, whispers had perated the high courts that the "Hegemon" was finally rotting from within, that the brilliance of the Three Sisters was a fluke of history that would not be repeated.
But today, they had witnessed an anomaly that shattered every strategic calculation they had ever made.
The Supre Trinity.
It was an existence that defied the established laws of the Heavens.
To see a youth embody the extres of Creation, Destruction, and Domination simultaneously was to realize that the rumored "Age of Decadence" for the Shen Clan had been postponed indefinitely.
While the current Ten Crowns were indeed diocre compared to the legendary generation of Chu Xueyu, being mostly at the Golden Core or early Nascent Soul stages, it no longer mattered.
Shen Haoran’s talent alone was a celestial pillar strong enough to shoulder the weight of an entire era.
The "wolves" who had gathered to feast on a dying giant found themselves staring into the maw of a dragon that had only just begun to grow its teeth.
Amidst this atmosphere of silent retreat by the powerful, the host, Xiao Nanan, broke the tension with a jubilant, high-pitched announcent that vibrated through the soul of every commoner and vassal present.
"LADIES AND GENTLEN! REJOICE! By the grace of the Main Line, we have prepared a three-week-long Grand Feast within the Shen Clan Domain! Right here in the Main City! We have summoned over ten thousand master Gourt Hunters from the deepest reaches of the Myriad Forest to prepare the most exquisite dishes known to man and god! Spirit-vein wine and Phoenix-tail delicacies shall flow like water! This is a celebration for the Heaven’s Chosen victory!!"
A deafening cheer erupted from the millions who remained.
While the spies and the embittered geniuses of other sects didn’t bother staying, their hearts too heavy with the weight of Haoran’s dominance, the loyalists and the common folk prepared for a period of unprecedented revelry.
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anwhile, far from the roaring crowds, Shen Haoran was walking down a long, secluded corridor of the Divine Arena.
The walls were made of white dragon-bone jade, cool to the touch and humming with ancient defensive enchantnts.
"Cousin! I knew you could do it! I never doubted you for a second!"
Feng Yani’s voice resounded, and then, without a shred if hesitation, she lunged, wrapping her arms around Haoran’s waist with enough force to knock the wind out of a lesser cultivator.
On her head, the little phoenix, Xiao Feng, chirped a frantic, celebratory tune and flapped its wings before hopping onto Haoran’s hair, playfully ruffling his locks with its beak.
"Congratulations, Young Master. Your victory was... absolute." Ling Luochen said, her voice soft but her eyes shining with a deep, reverent pride.
"An impressive performance," Shangguan Mu’eradded, her red eyes scanning his form with an appreciative, clinical intensity. "The way you manipulated the Sword Intent in the final monts... I have much to learn."
Ning Xueli, however, didn’t join the praise imdiately and just stepped close, her brow furrowed in concentration as she checked his hands and his neck. "Are you hurt by any chance? You didn’t overdo it, did you?"
Shen Haoran opened his mouth to reassure her, a wry smile forming on his lips, but the air in the corridor suddenly warped.
Then, a chilling, familiar presence manifested out of thin air, causing the girls to instinctively straighten their backs.
"Mother?" Haoran asked, blinking as
Chu Xueyu appeared before them, the Ruthless Empress’s expression was unreadable, her eyes fixed on her son with a gravity that silenced the hallway.
She glanced briefly at the girls. "You can congratulate him later, girls. For now, there is sowhere he needs to be. Sowhere he is required."
"Eh?" Feng Yani pouted, her hands still gripping Haoran’s sleeve. "Can’t I co too? I’m also fron the main line! I’m my mother’s daughter!"
Chu Xueyu shook her head, her gaze firm. "Yani, don’t be willful. I don’t have much authority in the place where Haoran is going. Even your own mother must wait outside those gates."
"Eh? But Aunt Xueyu, you’re the Clan Head! You’re the Matriarch!" Yani paused, her eyes widening as the realization hit her like a physical blow.
Chu Xueyu still shook her head.
At that, the playful light in Yani’s eyes died out, replaced by a rare look of dread. "Don’t tell ... Is cousin Haoran going there!?"
Chu Xueyu gave a slow, solemn nod.
"What do they need Cousin Haoran for!?" Yani huffed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He didn’t do anything wrong! Even if he did, it should be you who punish him, aunty!"
"I don’t know," Chu Xueyu admitted, her voice carrying a trace of maternal concern she usually kept hidden. "But the ssage was clear. The Elders have spoken, so I need to take him there imdiately. After all, it is an order from the foundations of the clan."
Yani reluctantly let go of Haoran’s arm and crossed her arms over her chest, looking like a frustrated child.
Xiao Feng chirped a low, mournful note and flew back to Yani’s head, ruffling her hair with its wings as if trying to console her.
Chu Xueyu turned toward Ning Xueli, Ling Luochen, and Shangguan Mu’er. "The three of you, go and enjoy the feast. This is a mont of victory for the Shen, and you are part of that victory. I will bring Haoran back shortly once the audience is over. You may relax."
"Very well, Matriarch," Ning Xueli replied, bowing deeply, though her eyes lingered on Haoran for a second longer than was strictly necessary.
Chu Xueyu turned her focus back to her son, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, his golden eyes reflecting a deep, internal preparation. "Haoran, let us go. The ti for celebration is not yet here for us."
Haoran nodded. "I am ready, Mother."
Chu Xueyu reached out and grabbed his hand, then, the space in the jade corridor began to ripple and fold, bending around them like water.
In the blink of an eye, the two of them disappeared, leaving only a faint scent of peach blossoms and ozone behind.
Ning Xueli turned her gaze to Feng Yani. "i’er, you know where Aunt Xueyu is taking him, don’t you? Is it dangerous?"
Shangguan Mu’er and Ling Luochen stepped closer, their curiosity piqued.
In their short ti in the Pri Origin Realm, they had learned that "authority" was a absolute, and if even the Matriarch lacked it, the destination must be legendary.
Yani humd, her finger tapping against her chin. "Well, it’s not really a secret, but most people prefer to pretend it doesn’t exist. The only place in this entire realm where Aunty doesn’t have much authority is..."
She paused for dramatic effect, her voice dropping into a solemn tone. "The Supre Hall."
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The Supre Hall.
The atmosphere here was different from any other part of the Shen Clan Domain.
It didn’t exist in the physical space of the Pri Origin Realm; it was a seperate dinsion anchored to the very soul of the clan’s lineage and domain.
Here, the Qi was so thick it had crystallized into floating, glowing dust, and the silence was so profound it felt like a physical weight against the eardrums.
Haoran stood beside his mother, while his aunts, Leng Shuang and Feng Yuyan, appeared beside them as if they had been waiting in the void.
Before them stood a set of massive, ancient wooden double doors, which connets the Shen Domain to the Supre Hall Dinsion.
They were carved from the heart-wood of the World-Tree, etched with runes that predated the current epoch.
"Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve been here," Feng Yuyan said, her usual playful smirk replaced by a look of nostalgic apprehension. "Three hundred years, to be exact. It always feels like stepping into a tomb that refuses to stay dead."
Leng Shuang nodded, her golden eyes reflecting the ancient runes of the door. "That was when we officially ascended to the Heavenly Saint realm and had to report your Dao-path. If I rember correctly, the Elders were quite... vocal about your ’Forbidden’ choices."
"As for ," Chu Xueyu said, her voice echoing in the vast, empty hall leading to the doors, "it was twenty years ago. The day Haoran was born. I had to bring him here to be blessed by the dormant spirits of our bloodline."
"The Supre Hall," Haoran muttered, his three-colored soul flickering beneath his skin in resonance with the ancient space.
This was the most heavily guarded territory in existence—a "Resting Place."
Within this hall, the Supres of the Shen Clan, those who had reached the absolute peak of cultivation in past ages, lay in a state of suspended animation.
While a Supre Emperor technically possessed a lifespan of tens of thousands of years, there is actually an easy to master thod to prolong that existence by a hundredfold.
By putting themselves into a deep, ditative slumber, they delayed the decay of their body and soul, acting as the ultimate deterrent against the other Immortal Clans.
Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to move to even twitch your eyebrows or move around your eye behind your eyelids.
Haoran had never t one in person.
The legendary knives he carried, the ones that could sever the laws of space, had been passed to him through his mother—gifts from ancestors who existed only as myths in his mind.
"Let’s go," Chu Xueyu commanded.
With a collective effort of their will and their bloodline authority, the three sisters placed their hands upon the World-Tree wood.
The massive doors didn’t creak; they groaned with the sound of shifting tectonic plates.
Slowly, they swung open, revealing a chamber filled with a soft, silver mist and the silhouettes of twelve high thrones that reached into the darkness above.
Haoran took his first step into the hall, and for the first ti in his life, he felt the true aning of the word insignificant.
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