CHAPTER 226: THE START OF A GLOBAL CONFLICT

The entire hall of the Alliance was trembling with killing intent, power, and hostility. The World Class and Super Class families had already circled tightly around Ling Fei, Ling Xia and the Silent Division, their auras layered like a collapsing mountain.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Because Ling Xin was already standing there.

Arms in his pockets.

Neck slightly tilted.

Expression bored.

His messy black hair drifted slightly even though there was no breeze.

And the entire room — EVERY elder, EVERY patriarch, EVERY cultivator — was frozen in place, unable to move an inch. They weren’t paralyzed physically... they were simply completely unable to muster the intention to move. Their bodies instinctively refused to challenge the thing in front of them.

"...Tch," Ling Xin muttered lazily, eyes half-open. "Seems like we won’t tear this place apart, I have something more important to take care of."

He didn’t release killing aura.

He didn’t release qi.

He didn’t even release intent.

He just existed.

And existence, for someone like him, was enough to suppress hundreds.

Aurelian Dorne strained to move a finger and failed.

The Franklin Patriarch’s pupils quivered violently.

The Crimson Fangs, Silvercrest, all of them — they were all forced to their knees just by the immensity of someone who didn’t even care to try.

Ling Fei stared at him in disbelief.

Ling Xia’s face twitched—she knew from the information she got so far that he was strong, but she never expected him to be this strong.

Even Hutton, still strapped to a half-broken restraining chair, felt the pressure ripple like gravity melting around him.

Ling Xin sighed again.

"Let’s go. I’m sleepy anyway."

That was all.

He raised one finger lazily.

Tap.

He flicked the air.

No explosion.

No shockwave.

No blinding light.

Instead, reality itself softened around Hutton’s restraints until the metal quietly disassembled like dust. Hutton dropped to the ground gently, unharmed.

Ling Xin didn’t even look at him.

Another lazy flick.

"H-Hutton?" The moment Hutton got released, Timothy suddenly called out to him which prompted Hutton to look his way. Noticing this, Ling Xin quickly asked "should I release them too?"

But Hutton didn’t reply immediately as he just stared directly into the eyes of Timothy, but Timothy didn’t back away from the stare either.

"Yeah, I want them to come with us if possible" Hutton eventually said calmly.

Ling Xin stared at him for three seconds as if the request required too much oxygen.

"...Fine."

He waved his hand.

And immediately, Timothy and Hughes’ chains evaporated into harmless white particles.

Not only that, but the world bent.

The entire center of the meeting hall — Ling Fei, Ling Xia, Hutton, Timothy, Hughes, and the thirty members of the Silent Division — were suddenly wrapped in a thin distortion, like a bubble around reality. They weren’t teleported. They weren’t moved by qi.

They were simply no longer occupying the same space as the Alliance.

"YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!!"

Aurelian Dorne roared and tried to break free.

But unfortunately for him, Nothing happened.

Franklin Patriarch tried to circulate qi.

Nothing.

Crimson Fangs and Silvercrest tried talismans.

The talismans disintegrated.

The Helion Clan Head tried space-locking seals.

Space itself ignored him.

Ling Xin looked mildly annoyed, as if someone was disturbing his nap.

"Stop struggling," he yawned. "It’s embarrassing."

Then he snapped his fingers.

—And the entire group vanished from the hall.

Just like that.

No flash.

No sound.

No trace.

One second they were inside the most fortified meeting of the American region.

The next second, they were standing in a quiet forest outside Washington DC, the night air calm and cool.

Ling Fei staggered.

Ling Xia blinked in disbelief.

Timothy and Hughes collapsed.

The Silent Division immediately formed a defensive perimeter, then froze—

—they realized the danger was gone.

Hutton stood there stunned.

Ling Xin stretched lazily.

"Alright... I’m done. Wake me when the world is ending."

He yawned, flicked something off his sleeve, and casually walked past all of them like a guy leaving a grocery store.

"Wait."

Ling Xin paused—barely. Just a tilt of the head, a flicker of attention. Everyone felt the air tighten for a fraction before it eased again.

Hutton who was the one that told him to wait exhaled.

"You saved me—even though we’ve never met. So before you walk off... can you tell me why? Who asked you to?"

Ling Xin scratched his cheek lazily, as if embarrassed at the inconvenience of answering.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," Hutton replied firmly. "It matters to me."

A long, lazy sigh.

"...Boma."

Hutton blinked. "Boma?"

Ling Xin nodded, uninterested.

"Am sure you know him, he owed me a favor. Used it on you. Annoying, really."

Hutton froze, stunned.

’Boma... used his favor to save him.’

Ling Fei covered her mouth, realizing just how deep Boma’s went to save Hutton.

Timothy and Hughes exchanged looks— Boma has this card up his sleeve?

Ling Xia narrowed her eyes, recognizing the gravity: someone like Ling Xin does NOT offer favors.

Ling Xin turned again, ready to vanish into the night.

"Anyway... that’s all. Don’t die or whatever."

"Xin!"

Ling Xia’s voice struck the air like a whip.

Ling Xin didn’t stop walking, but his pace slowed.

Ling Fei stepped beside her sister.

"Brother Xin... come back with us. Please."

"We’ve all been searching for you for years," Ling Xia added, her voice trembling despite her steel. "Father—"

"Don’t."

The single word cut her off like a blade.

Ling Xin’s back stiffened. Only slightly, but enough for the sisters to notice.

He still didn’t turn.

His voice was flat. Cold. Devoid of the laziness he carried like a second skin.

"I’m not returning to that house."

Ling Fei’s eyes glistened. "Brother Xin, the family—"

"The family?" Ling Xin scoffed. "You mean the thing that treated me like a defect? A threat? A tool?"

Ling Xia lowered her gaze.

Ling Fei clenched her fists.

He continued, voice low and hollow:

"They hated my strength.

They feared it.

And when Father realized I wouldn’t bend, he tried to control me."

Ling Xin’s head dropped slightly.

"That was the last time I bothered with that so-called family."

The Silent Division behind them kept silent. None dared breathe loudly.

Ling Xia stepped forward anyway, heart tightening.

"Xin... we weren’t part of that decision. If Father wronged you—"

"You’re still there," Ling Xin cut in softly. "That’s enough."

It wasn’t angry.

It wasn’t spiteful.

Just... resigned.

Ling Fei tried one last time, voice desperate, trembling.

"But... we miss you."

Ling Xin finally turned his head a little, enough for them to see one eye—dark, deep, impossibly tired.

"You’re better off without me."

The moon caught his silhouette as he stepped forward again.

"Besides... I don’t like responsibility. Family comes with too much of it."

Hutton felt the weight of those words—Ling Xin had run from the world because power isolated him.

"Xin," Hutton called quietly. "Thank you."

Ling Xin shrugged without looking back.

"Don’t thank me. Thank Boma."

He lifted one hand lazily and flicked it.

A gentle ripple washed across the grass, and in an instant—

He was gone.

Not a flash.

Not a sound.

Just absence.

Ling Xia lowered her head, jaw tight.

Ling Fei wiped silent tears.

Hutton stared into the empty space where the lazy powerhouse had stood.

The forest was quiet again.

Too quiet.

Meanwhile....

The suffocating silence in the grand Alliance Hall cracked like thin ice.

One by one, the super-class patriarchs, matriarchs, elders, and world-class giants began to gasp—finally able to breathe, move, and feel their own limbs again. The paralyzing suppression Ling Xin had left behind faded like smoke, but the humiliation it carved into the air remained thick... choking.

A chair screeched across marble as Helion Clan Patriarch Nereus Helion stumbled to his feet, face pale with sweat.

"W-What... was that monster...?" he hissed, trembling. "That young man’s aura alone—just his aura—kept all of us still?"

"The Silent Division..." muttered the Crimson Fangs Matriarch, massaging her wrists. "How did the Ling Family allow such a force outside China? And how did they infiltrate this place without our sensors noticing?"

The Silvercrest heirs whispered harshly amongst themselves, their pride shattered.

But Aurelian Dorne wasn’t whispering.

He sat in the shattered remains of his command chair, breathing like a bull about to gore the world. The veins on his forehead pulsed violently. He rose slowly, every step shaking with fury.

The hall tensed—because Aurelian was not the type to lose control.

Yet he was trembling.

Not from weakness.

From raw, volcanic rage.

"That boy..." Aurelian growled, eyes burning. "That thing... suppressed the entire Alliance."

The Franklin Family head—already angry that he couldn’t do what he intended to do to Hutton, quickly directed his frustration to Aurelian.

"This is your fault, Dorne! Your vendetta dragged the Chinese region into this!"

"MY fault?" Aurelian turned sharply, aura flaring like a rising storm. "Do you think I summoned the Ling Family? Do you think I asked their abomination of a son to overturn this building?! They came because that brat—Hutton—has ties to them!"

The Silvercrest elder barked,

"But you were the reason he was brought here! You wanted to make an example of him—"

"Silence," Aurelian snapped.

His aura spiked.

Half the hall flinched.

But they didn’t back down—not today.

"We were humiliated," snarled the Crimson Fangs patriarch.

"Humiliated publicly," added the Helion clan matriarch.

"And the American Region Alliance was bypassed, infiltrated, and dismissed like children," growled the Tigerhorn Association representative.

The room buzzed with a mixture of fear, burning pride, and disbelief.

Then Aurelian Dorne spoke again—his tone sharp as a blade dipped in venom.

"Those puny Ling members set foot on American soil without clearance."

His eyes narrowed.

"They acted against Alliance authority."

He raised his chin.

"And that boy—Ling Xin—dared to cripple the dignity of every world-class and super-class family in this room."

Murmurs. Rage. Agreement.

"And I," Aurelian finished, voice low and deadly, "will not allow this insult to stand."

"What are you planning?" asked Franklin’s head.

Aurelian stepped forward.

His fist clenched.

His killing intent flooded the room.

"I am going to China."

The entire hall snapped its attention toward him.

"To their region’s Alliance headquarters," Aurelian continued, voice booming like thunder. "I will demand answers—diplomatic or otherwise."

"Are you insane?" the Silvercrest elder barked. "The Chinese Alliance contains monsters far beyond our files—"

"I do not care," Aurelian roared.

His rage vibrated the chandeliers.

"My last son is dead. My authority has been mocked. My region humiliated in front of the world."

He pointed toward the giant cracked doors, still trembling from Ling Xin’s departure.

"And the boy who killed my son is being sheltered by them."

He took a step, aura swirling with enough force to crack tiles.

"I will go to China."

Another step.

"And they will answer."

Another.

"Or the American Region Alliance will tear open their gates."

The room erupted—shouts, protests, agreements, threats.

Every family, every elder, every giant of power was alight.

But Aurelian Dorne didn’t hear them anymore.

He was already walking out, cloak fluttering behind him like a storm.

His rage didn’t fade.

It intensified.

The American Region Alliance had just declared the beginning of a global conflict—

And its first spark was aimed directly at the Ling Family.