SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

The spirit ship of Kulu Nation floated down toward the familiar skyline of the Northern KULU Capital city. The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the city. Below, waiting crowds of disciples, family servants, and curious citizens gathered to witness the return of the alchemists from the Pill King Market.

With poise and a trace of exhaustion, Yun Rou stepped to the edge of the ship’s deck and waved at the gathered ground crew.

“The trip is officially concluded,” she said loudly, turning back to the passengers. “Thank you all for representing our nation with dignity and strength. One by one now, disembark safely!”

Cheers and polite goodbyes echoed among the ship’s travelers as disciples stepped down the formation stairs. Kent, still lost in thought after the whirlwind of events—including Bai Qi’s unexpected request—was just about to descend when the sound of ragged footsteps and desperate howling echoed across the arrival square.

A beastkin servant, clothes torn and bloodied, burst past the crowd.

She stumbled forward, nearly collapsing onto the stone tiles, but her bloodied paws reached out and clutched Kent’s robe just as he stepped off the ship.

“M-Master! P-Please! Save us… please save us!” she cried, coughing violently. “The Hua family… they—they came while you were away. They attacked the entire slave village… they locked up everyone… they whipped the younglings… Lady Ai Ping was sealed… she… she couldn’t fight!”

Her voice cracked. Tears streaked her dusty face. Her beast aura was so broken it barely held shape.

Everyone froze.

“What?” Kent’s voice dropped like a stone into silence.

His body stiffened, eyes narrowing with every word she spoke. A violent pressure started to erupt around him, rippling across the ship’s descent zone. Even those nearby felt it and instinctively backed away.

“The slave village?” Lin Lin whispered, wide-eyed. “He built that from nothing…”

Kent didn’t wait.

In one fluid motion, his spirit robe fluttered as he jumped onto the back of his black-scaled dragon beast. The creature roared as it recognized the fury in its master’s aura and immediately soared into the air, tearing across the sky.

“Kent!” Yun Rou shouted, then cursed. “We have to go with him! Something’s wrong!”

Without hesitation, Bai Qi, Lin Lin, and Yun Rou mounted their flight tools and followed in streaks of light.

—

The wind howled past Kent’s ears as he approached the outskirts of the slave village, now cloaked under the heavy, unnatural aura of suppression formations.

His eyes darkened as he descended.

The once-lively streets, rebuilt with his own hands and protected with his own cultivation array, were now silent.

Cages. Everywhere.

Beastkin and servant-class cultivators, old and young alike, were trapped in iron-bar cages. Blood and bruises marked their bodies, many had been stripped of their dignity, chained like wild animals.

The chilling sound of laughter and the crack of whips tore through the silence.

On a makeshift throne in the center of the village, Hua Jin, clothed in silk robes with golden lining, reclined like a conqueror. Around him stood over two dozen disciples of the Hua family, all clad in crimson robes, smirking with cruel amusement.

Some of them whipped the cage bars, laughing as the beasts inside flinched.

“Kneel, filth! Bark like dogs!” one shouted.

“Didn’t your ‘master’ say he’d protect you?” another mocked, holding up a scroll bearing Kent’s city lord emblem, before tearing it in half with a sneer. “Where is he now?!”

Just then, the wind shifted.

A terrifying roar echoed through the clouds, followed by the thunderous beat of dragon wings.

Kent descended slowly from the sky on his black dragon, his robe fluttering like a specter of wrath.

The laughter stopped.

All heads turned.

Hua Jin raised an eyebrow, then chuckled as Kent landed directly in front of him.

“Well, well. The self-proclaimed protector returns.” He stood, clapping slowly. “Too bad you’re too late, Kent Hall.”

Kent said nothing.

He glanced around, taking in the wounded faces of his people, the shattered protective barriers, the iron cages.

The silence was suffocating.

Kent finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper but charged with fury.

“You did this… in my absence?”

Hua Jin smirked, arms wide. “What can I say? When the dog’s away, the fox pays a visit. And don’t look so surprised—this village of yours humiliated the Hua family when you let those filthy beasts speak out in court.”

Kent took a step forward.

The ground cracked beneath his foot.

“You think you’ve won?”

“I think you’ve already lost,” Hua Jin sneered. “Did you forget our last meeting? That poison trick won’t work again. Everyone here carries Rank Three Antidotes. You can’t scare us with your little tricks this time, Kent.”

“Then let’s not talk tricks,” Kent replied coldly. “Let’s talk fists.”

He raised his hand.

A blur of wind.

Suddenly, Lin Lin and Yun Rou landed between them, panic in their eyes.

“Stop!” Lin Lin placed a palm on Kent’s chest, looking directly into his burning gaze. “This isn’t the time or place. There are too many of them.”

Yun Rou turned to Hua Jin. “Young Master Hua. Please, be reasonable. This conflict can still be settled by the elders.”

Hua Jin gave them a smile. A fake one.

“I respect both of you—Lin Lin of the Nine Song Sect, and Yun Rou of the Floating Temple. You are noble women of great prestige. But this matter,” he paused, eyes narrowing again at Kent, “is between me and him. My family was humiliated. My name dragged through dirt. This… ends here.”

Silence again.

Behind Kent, the villagers—wounded, bloodied—cried out.

“Master, please don’t stay! Leave us! You’ll die too!”

“Go, master! This village isn’t worth your life!”

Ai Ping, sealed with a suppression talisman across her dantian, knelt near the cages, shouting, “You must survive, master! The world is vast—you can rebuild, but not if you die here!”

Even Bai Qi, from behind, watched silently.

He’s strong… but how can he fight all of them? she thought. He’s only a Middle Earth Immortal… like them. They’re prepared. What is he thinking?

Then Hua Jin moved.

With a flicker of light, he was gone from the throne.

And then—

BANG!

A glowing fist struck Kent in the gut, sending him flying back hundreds of meters. He crashed into a stone wall, rubble falling around him.

Dust billowed.

Blood dripped from his lips.

But even as he struggled to stand, his eyes remained fixed on Hua Jin, blazing with something far more terrifying than pain.

Murderous intent.

The wind howled as Kent slowly stood up from the crater of rubble left by Hua Jin’s punch. Dust and blood clung to his robes, but his eyes—shining with crackling lightning—showed no pain, no fear… only an unsettling calm.

With a flick of his fingers, a strange object shimmered into existence from his storage ring—a long, lean bow, black as the void but glimmering with faint golden carvings of a dragon and a lion, coiled together in eternal struggle.

The Dragon-Lion Bow.

A relic from his journey in the lower Realm. Weak, perhaps, by the absurd standards of this Apex Realm—but enough to cause wounds to Hua family disciples.

The Hua family disciples, seeing this, furrowed their brows in confusion.

“A bow?” one whispered. “Is he playing games now?”

“Wait… is he abandoning his sword?”

“Since when did this guy ever use a bow?”

Hua Jin laughed mockingly from his throne. “A bowman? In this era? What kind of joke—”

Suddenly, a massive golden chariot dropped from the sky like divine thunder. Formed entirely of pulsing lightning, it hovered just behind Kent. The chariot of the Storm God. Its wheels spun slowly, rotating with divine symbols that radiated thunder essence.

Kent stepped onto the platform, rising above the battlefield like a deity. He held the Dragon-Lion Bow horizontally across his chest, like a war declaration.

His robes fluttered. His face, battered, now looked immortal. Unshakable.

The silence was deafening.

Not a single soul in the Hua family entourage understood what was happening. Archery was a dead art in the Apex World. Bows were considered outdated relics. In the entire Royal Academy, not one student practiced the bow path.

But Kent—he had practiced it under moonlight, during storms, when the world was asleep. It was a part of him, just like the storm in his veins.

“Get ready,” Kent said softly, his hand already drawing the first arrow made of pure storm essence.

The next moment—

TWANG!

The arrow screamed through the air, crackling with lightning, and before anyone could react, it ripped through a disciple’s shoulder, sending him flying back with a scream.

And then—

It began.

A volley of arrows, one after another, faster than the eye could follow, burst from the chariot. They poured down like divine rain, each arrow whistling, glowing, twisting midair, guided by storm intent.

“AAAGHH!”

“Get back!”

“Dodge—NO!”

Hua family disciples cried out in shock. One after another, they fell back, bleeding from fresh wounds. The arrows didn’t kill—but they tore through spiritual shields, cracked their armor, and left gaping marks on their bodies.

“This can’t be—he’s pushing us back!”

“Those arrows are too sharp! They break defense formations!”

“It’s that chariot—it’s empowering the bow!”

From the side, Lin Lin, Yun Rou, and Bai Qi stood frozen.

“Kent… is an archer?” Lin Lin whispered, her voice shaking.

“No… not just an archer,” Yun Rou murmured. “He’s… something else entirely…”

Even Ai Ping, chained and bloodied, looked up with wide, tear-filled eyes.

The slaves in cages stopped crying. They stopped begging. All they could do was watch as Kent stood alone, wielding a forgotten weapon, and forced back dozens of elite cultivators.

“Why does he keep surprising us?” Bai Qi whispered, her lips trembling. “How much more is he hiding…?”

Suddenly, a roar of rage cracked the air.

Hua Jin, finally moving, unleashed a furious barrage of strikes toward Kent. Lightning palms, wind blades, pure spiritual punches—the sky warped around him as he rushed forward, his attacks capable of collapsing mountains.

But just as one strike neared—

BOOM!

A massive golden mace appeared from Kent’s storm chariot, slamming into the incoming attack. Lightning danced along the weapon’s surface as it spun, blocking Hua Jin’s force.

“What?!”

Hua Jin’s eyes widened.

The mace didn’t stop.

Another punch. Another block.

The weapon seemed alive, spinning in midair, defending Kent like a loyal guardian.

In the next breath, Kent stomped lightly on the chariot, and a rotating chakra-like disk of storm essence burst out beneath the chariot, slicing through the battlefield.

The disk moved swiftly across the ground, and as it passed the cages—

CLANG—CLANG—CRACK!

Every single iron cage shattered.

The beastkin inside blinked, stunned.

They were… free?

“Get up,” Kent said, his voice echoing across the air. “This fight isn’t just mine.”

The beastkin rose. Wounded, shaking—but furious.

Their claws grew. Their eyes burned.

They joined the fray.

Now it was no longer one man against many.

Now it was the village of chains, finally unchained.

Hua family disciples found themselves overwhelmed—arrows from above, beasts from below.

Still, Kent continued firing, eyes locked on Hua Jin.

“You wanted to make this personal,” Kent growled, pulling another storm arrow. “Then let it be personal.”

TWANG!

The arrow shot forward, straight toward Hua Jin’s chest.

Hua Jin dodged—but too late. The arrow tore across his side, blood spurting out in a spray.

He stumbled back, expression twisted.

“You… you dare!” he screamed.

“I do,” Kent said, already preparing the next shot. “And I’ll do it again.”

Bai Qi watched Kent with wide open eyes as she was completely shocked by Kent’s demeanor.

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