Chapter 267

Chapter 267: Club Pressure

Shuang Jin, Zhi Ye, and the Black Realm Lord faced the three figures in the void, their expressions grim.

“Han Heng,” Shuang Jin said. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

Han Heng clasped his hands behind his back, smiling faintly. “Time to stretch my legs.

“Where’s Shuang Ying? He nearly killed me back then.

“But I suppose I should thank him. He forced me into desperation—and that’s how I broke through to the Star-Refining Realm.”

Shuang Jin didn’t answer. Her gaze shifted past him, to the two standing at his sides.

Zhi Ye and the Black Realm Lord were staring as well.

Those two were… wrong.

One wore a black robe so tattered his face couldn’t be seen. Through the torn fabric, Wang Jie could make out scales along his skin—scales shaped like swords, as if they’d grown outward from within.

He radiated a quiet, eerie calm, and even from a distance there seemed to be a faint stench of rot.

The other looked more normal at first glance, but the longer you stared, the more unsettling he became. His skin, his eyes, even his hair looked like a false shell.

“Jian Gui. Xie Jian Feng,” the Black Realm Lord said slowly.

Han Heng raised a brow. “As expected of the realm lord who rules the Black Realm. How many people did you plant in our Ancient Sword Bridge-Pillar? You even know these two.”

The Black Realm Lord’s voice stayed cold. “No need to plant anyone. Their legends are well known.

“Jian Gui survived childhood by eating corpses. He swallowed a rusted sword into his body, grew sword scales, and forged a Five Tribulations chen artifact from his own scales.

“Xie Jian Feng is a robot made by a technological civilization. He awakened intelligence, slaughtered that civilization, cultivated the sword dao, and rumor says even his bones are forged from swords.”

Jian Gui and Xie Jian Feng remained silent, as if words were beneath them.

Han Heng laughed. “So. You’ve heard our stories.

“We’ve heard yours, too.”

His gaze shifted to Zhi Ye. “Knowing where you came from, yet not where you return. To make such a name in your Bridge-Pillar’s First Nebula… Brother Zhi Ye, your name hangs in Sword Court itself.”

Zhi Ye smiled faintly. “To be valued by Sword Court is my honor.”

Then he looked back at Han Heng. “Han Heng, your name hangs in Jia Yi Sect.”

Han Heng’s laughter deepened. “Then let’s not hold back.”

The void twisted.

A crushing pressure rolled outward. Warship shields shattered like glass, and even the Asteroid Belt itself rippled as if struck by an unseen wave.

Wang Jie’s breath caught. He hadn’t even seen them move—yet everyone here was being pushed back by the aftermath.

It reminded him of the days Frostglow Sect fell, when a Star-Refining Realm’s casual strike could affect places impossibly far away.

Warships withdrew at full speed.

Even Hundred-Star Realm experts fell back.

The exchange ended quickly—a probing clash belonging solely to the Star-Refining Realm.

When Shuang Jin and the other two returned, the pressure eased and the battlefield fell into a strange, suffocating quiet.

Everyone understood what it meant.

This was only the hush before the storm.

—

Wang Jie sat in a corner of the warship, conserving his strength.

A commotion rose nearby.

He looked up and froze.

Han Ling?

Han Ling was one of the Six-Path Roamers. His presence rippled through the warship like a stone dropped into water. People watched him walk straight toward Wang Jie, trying to guess what he wanted.

Wang Jie hadn’t expected it either. Han Ling had been on this battlefield, but in the Hao Qian Domain.

Han Ling smiled as he approached. “Junior Brother Wang. You really are here.”

Wang Jie stood and bowed. “Senior Brother Han.”

“Let’s talk,” Han Ling said lightly.

“Of course.”

They moved to a spot where they could look out into the void, and Han Ling went straight to it. “I heard you and Fang He aren’t on good terms.”

Wang Jie’s eyes cooled. “I took a mission to save him. He abandoned me. If my luck had been a little worse, you wouldn’t be speaking to me right now.”

Han Ling nodded as if that confirmed something. “Fang He is narrow-minded. Be careful.”

Wang Jie studied him. “I thought you came to speak for him.”

Han Ling chuckled. “I barely have anything to do with him.

“We’re both Six-Path Roamers, but we’re still rivals.”

Wang Jie hesitated, then said honestly, “In my view, Fang He isn’t your match, Senior Brother Han.”

Han Ling laughed. “I’ll take your blessing.”

His gaze sharpened. “Do you remember what I said back at Pill Assembly? I want to invite you to join Black-White Heaven’s club.”

Wang Jie’s heart thudded. He remembered—yet he shook his head. “Elder Li applied for me before. I was rejected.”

“Elder Li used the normal path,” Han Ling said. “Of course he could be rejected.”

He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping. “But the club has club rules. With two Six-Path Roamers recommending you, no one can refuse your entry.”

“Me, and Mo Wan Yin.”

Wang Jie felt his pulse quicken. He couldn’t help it. “Why help me?”

Han Ling looked out at the starfield and exhaled slowly. “Because of pressure.”

“Pressure… from the club?”

“Yes.” Han Ling’s smile turned bitter. “Black-White Heaven’s club gathers our most elite disciples, yet against other powerful clubs we can barely breathe.

“Even one person like Luan Dao is too much for us—and Luan Dao is only an Outer Zen disciple transferred from Milky Way Defense Corporation to cultivate in the Third Zen Heaven.

“If even their borrowed disciple can crush us, imagine the weight of Jia Yi Sect, the Third Zen Heaven… the monsters that truly matter.

“And that’s not even counting other Bridge-Pillars.”

He turned his gaze back to Wang Jie. “So we need a different path. A new edge.

“Lockforce isn’t valued, but it can never be denied. And on the lockforce path, I believe you’re already beyond anyone else.”

Wang Jie frowned. “Clubs exist beyond the Northern Dipper Bridge-Pillar?”

“Of course,” Han Ling said. “War divides Bridge-Pillars. Clubs move between them.

“We’ve gone to other Bridge-Pillars to fight over resources, fortunes, even talent. We lose far more than we win. Only a few clubs can truly compete.”

Then he said it bluntly, letting the numbers speak. “Our Black-White Heaven club currently has only one Hundred-Star Realm—Elder Wu Yuan.

“The Third Zen Heaven’s club has three Hundred-Star Realm members. Each one is no weaker than Wu Yuan, at least by what we know.”

Han Ling’s eyes darkened. “And the Third Zen Heaven stands beneath Jia Yi Sect.

“And Jia Yi Sect might not even be the strongest across the Bridge-Pillars.”

Wang Jie’s throat tightened. The gap was… obscene.

Han Ling added, voice low, “What’s truly terrifying is when a club has someone from the Guarding Star Realm.

“Guarding Star Realm cultivators don’t participate in these battlefields. But they can participate in club contests.

“If a Guarding Star Realm cultivator appears, every other club can only retreat. There’s no other choice.”

Wang Jie frowned. “Why don’t Guarding Star Realm cultivators join the war? Are they not from our Northern Dipper Bridge-Pillar?”

“They aren’t,” Han Ling said. “Several Bridge-Pillars share the same Guarding Star Realm cultivators—the Four Great Wandering Gods you’ve heard of.”

He gestured outward, as if mapping the void itself. “The Roaming-Star Realm holds what you call the Fourth Nebula. That term exists for your convenience. It’s a position, nothing more—a marker in the Bridge-Pillar’s ‘height.’ The Four Great Wandering Gods watch that position.”

Wang Jie stared. “So they aren’t… ours.”

Han Ling nodded. “And one more thing.”

He looked Wang Jie straight in the eyes. “Not a single one of the Four Great Wandering Gods belongs to the Northern Dipper Bridge-Pillar.”

Wang Jie felt a chill slide through him.

So Qing Huan didn’t belong to the Northern Dipper Bridge-Pillar either.

Han Ling stepped back, preparing to leave. “Club contests are what let you step beyond the starry sky you can currently imagine.”

His smile returned, sharp with purpose. “So come, Junior Brother Wang. Show the world the limit a lockforce cultivator can reach. Maybe you can help Black-White Heaven’s club win even a sliver of advantage.”

Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Wang Jie watched him go, unease twisting in his chest.

Han Ling made it sound easy—as if joining the club would make Wang Jie invincible.

But no one said a lockforce cultivator’s enemies had to be lockforce cultivators.

A Hundred-Star Realm could strike you just the same.

In Han Ling’s words, clubs had far too many monsters comparable to Elder Wu Yuan. And that was likely a conservative estimate.

The club sounded even more dangerous than the battlefield.

No wonder it represented the sect’s face.

—

That day, war erupted.

In the distance, lightning formed a dense net and rolled forward. Hundred-Star Realm experts struck, tearing holes in the net again and again.

Warships fired beams into the void in relentless volleys.

The enemy answered with beams of their own—mixed with fire and red streaks that moved like hunting knives.

Alarms screamed.

Roaming-Star Realm cultivators threw themselves outside the warships, trying to keep the hulls intact, but the moment the masses collided, everyone was too busy surviving to protect anyone else.

Warship after warship exploded.

Wang Jie stood atop a shaking deck, thunder pattern in his left hand, sword in his right.

He thrust once—Star-Gazing Sword Form.

A red streak tried to pierce through his sword intent. He tore it apart. Nearby, blazing phoenix snakes flooded the void with flame. The warship bucked and swayed violently.

No matter what Wang Jie did, it was useless.

Warships were still technological creations. They couldn’t endure this kind of pressure.

Cultivators poured out, leaping toward the nearest asteroids.

Thunderflare Hou screamed, lightning lashing across the Asteroid Belt.

Ice-Crystal Cloud Thunder detonated in response, freezing Thunderflare Hou mid-lunge and colliding head-on with the phoenix snakes’ flames.

Wang Jie landed on an asteroid and steadied himself. After Han Hai and the Cloudstream Domain, he was used to fighting on drifting land fragments.

Asteroids filled the battlefield like debris. There was no shortage of footholds.

A long whip hung at his waist. If the rock beneath him shattered, he would yank himself to another without hesitation.

Small enemy ships darted through the void, many ramming toward him. Each carried cultivators.

Wang Jie unleashed Rain Sword Art. Any ship that entered the range tore apart. The cultivators inside rarely survived the first wave of sword qi.

Only a Roaming-Star Realm was qualified to truly threaten him.

Far away, where Star-Refining Realm battles raged beyond sight and Hundred-Star Realm forces rippled across space, a roar carried through the chaos:

“Fang He! You traitor!”

Across the void, Fang He sneered. “Black-White Heaven betrayed me. Why shouldn’t I join Blade Gate?”

He lifted a hand casually. A surge of starforce crushed several Black-White Heaven cultivators into nothing.

His gaze slid across the battlefield like a blade.

Where was Wang Jie?

That man had to die.

The bitter irony was that Wang Jie wasn’t even a spy.

Fang He had openly joined Blade Gate back in the Cloudstream Domain. His only condition was that he wouldn’t serve as a mole.

He wanted to kill Wang Jie openly, on the battlefield, and make Black-White Heaven watch.

Whether or not the decision stripping his Six-Path Roamer status had been finalized, he knew it was only a matter of time.

If so, he might as well leave.

Wherever he went, he would still be a powerhouse.

Wang Jie.

You will die.