CHAPTER 338: CHAPTER 338 UNIVERSE

Those moments filled Riley with happiness.

Sometimes, lying beneath the stars with a cup of wine in his hand and the sound of his children playing in the distance, Riley would think that if fate allowed him, he would freeze time itself and live in this peace forever.

A life of love, prosperity, and family—it was something he had not known he craved so deeply.

But Riley was not a man who could forget. Beneath the joy, beneath the softness of family life, the flame of purpose never dimmed.

He remembered why he had come here.

He knew that the stakes were high but he was also confident that he was going to win it all and finally defend successfully against Sunny.

***

One day, the shift came.

It was subtle at first—the stillness in the air, the way the sky seemed sharper, more vivid, the faint stir of energy rippling across the land.

To others, it was nothing more than an odd feeling, a fleeting moment of unease.

But to Riley, it was undeniable. The waiting was over.

He set down the goblet of wine in his hand and rose to his feet, his gaze lifting skyward.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"He’s finally here."

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of five long years of anticipation.

His eyes gleamed with a sharp light, one of expectation and certainty.

Whatever happiness he had enjoyed, whatever peace he had built—Riley knew that everything from this moment forward would be tested.

The one he had awaited had come.

And Riley was ready.

***

"Hmmmm... this is strange," an old man with long, silvery-white hair muttered as he hovered high above the clouds.

His figure was upright despite his age, his back as straight as a mountain ridge, and his presence carried an unshakable calm that made the sky itself seem to respect him.

The sleeves of his ancient robes swayed gently in the wind, and the faint golden glow around him marked him as someone whose cultivation had reached heights most could only dream of.

With a mere thought, his divine sense surged outward like a vast ocean, spreading across the land below.

Valleys, rivers, cities, plains, and even the hidden mountain forests—all of it lay open before him as though etched onto the palm of his hand.

His eyes flickered with quiet interest as the picture revealed itself.

The land pulsed with life.

Prosperity was everywhere—fertile fields stretched endlessly, golden with harvests; rivers shone like silver dragons weaving through the earth; villages and cities thrived with the bustle of merchants, farmers, and craftsmen, all free from hunger or despair.

Even the animals seemed healthier, their auras more vibrant, their instincts at peace.

The natural qi flowed smoothly, as if the heavens themselves favored this region.

"This is no ordinary prosperity..." the old man whispered, his voice carrying both wonder and caution.

He stroked his beard slowly, his eyes narrowing as if to see beyond the veil.

"If someone sought to plant a sovereign dao here, they would succeed in ninety-nine out of a hundred attempts. The land itself would bend to their will."

Such things were rare.

Not unseen, but rare enough that even one like him, who had walked countless realms and witnessed great dynasties rise and fall, found his curiosity stirred.

Prosperous lands could only sustain themselves when guided by a steady and capable hand.

What ruler, he wondered, could maintain such balance?

What kind of man had the wisdom and might to shape both the land and its people into harmony?

The old man’s eyes softened. His nature was upright and noble, free from malice.

He was not one to disrupt fortune or rob another of their blessings.

Instead, his heart leaned toward benevolence.

If this ruler proves worthy, he thought, perhaps I shall bestow a blessing or two upon his family. A nudge of fate, a gift of cultivation, something to honor his stewardship of this realm.

A breath later, his form blurred.

Space itself trembled slightly as he vanished, leaving behind only a ripple in the air where he had been standing.

He did not soar like an ordinary cultivator, nor fly like a bird. Instead, he folded through the heavens, moving effortlessly toward the source of the qi that blazed like a beacon across the land.

The journey was swift.

With every step through the void, the central aura grew stronger, brighter, as though drawing him onward.

It radiated warmth and power alike, a heart of fortune beating steadily at the core of the realm.

When at last he descended, his gaze fell upon the epicenter.

He saw a great domain brimming with life, its walls and towers infused with order, its gardens vibrant, its air thick with peaceful energy.

At the center of it all stood a man whose presence anchored everything, like the still point of the turning world.

The old man’s lips curved faintly, a rare expression crossing his dignified face.

"So... you are the one behind it all."

And thus, the sovereign gaze of the elder met Riley for the very first time.

Riley remained calm, but not everyone shared his composure.

Gasps and cries rippled through the city as the figure from the heavens descended, his robes glowing faintly in the sun, his aura so vast that the skies themselves seemed to bend around him.

"Look! A god has descended from the heavens!" one man shouted, falling flat on his face.

"Everyone, kneel in place!" barked another, his voice cracking with both fear and reverence.

"Welcome, immortal of the heavens!" a group of women wailed together, their hands clasped tightly as if in prayer.

The scene turned chaotic in its devotion.

The sight of an otherworldly being walking among them shattered the minds of ordinary people.

This was not a miracle they had ever expected to witness.

For them, there was no language of "cultivation," no concept of higher realms—only the absolute certainty that this was a god.

All across the square, bodies hit the ground.

Knees scraped stone, foreheads pressed into dirt, and the air filled with the sound of muffled sobs and trembling voices.

Men, women, and children alike clung to the earth as though fearing heaven itself would punish them for looking up.

The old man landed gracefully, as if the world itself cushioned his steps.

His aura, though restrained, still radiated majesty.

To those kneeling, his smile appeared kind, almost merciful—like that of a benevolent deity who looked upon mortals with compassion.

Yet the truth was far more focused, far sharper.

For from the moment his feet touched the earth, his eyes did not wander.

They did not acknowledge the bowing masses, nor the wails of worship, nor the praises of trembling voices.

His gaze was fixed, unwavering, upon a single figure who stood tall amidst the sea of prostrated bodies.

Riley.

The old man studied him quietly, his ancient perception digging deeper than mere appearance.

He saw the maturity of command etched into Riley’s posture, the weight of responsibility that had shaped his bearing.

He saw a man who had known both prosperity and hardship, who carried the presence of a ruler not through words, but through the silent strength of his will.

And yet—he was young.

Too young, by the standards of the old man’s vast experience, to carry such authority.

To see that unyielding calm, that steel carved into someone at the prime of life, gave the elder pause.

This was no ordinary ruler.

Around Riley, the contrast was jarring.

Where everyone else bowed, trembling in fear of the unknown, Riley alone did not move.

His back was straight as a spear. His expression was calm, unreadable, neither hostile nor reverent.

One hand rested lightly on his weapon, not in overt threat, but in readiness—a subtle declaration that he bowed to no one, not until he had reason to.

The old man’s lips curved further into a smile. In his long life, he had seen countless monarchs, warlords, and so-called geniuses fall to their knees the moment he revealed even a fraction of his aura.

Yet here was someone who stood. Someone whose silence alone carried defiance.

Not arrogance, the old man noted.

Not stupidity. Courage... and dignity. This one does not kneel blindly, even before heaven itself.

He felt something rare stir in his heart: admiration.

"Interesting..." the old man murmured inwardly, the glint in his eyes sharpening. "Very interesting indeed."

The world seemed to hold its breath as the two locked eyes—an immortal of untold years, and a young king who dared not bend.

"Aren’t you going to greet me, young man?" the old man asked, his voice calm yet carrying a subtle authority, as if the world itself leaned forward to listen.

His smile was gentle, almost playful, but the aura around him radiated undeniable power.

Riley’s eyes remained steady, his posture unshaken.

"Depends on your purpose," he replied firmly, his voice carrying the weight of command.