The Supreme Eternal Prime God 1000X System From Beginning Chapter 27
– when power becomes fear
The moment Meng Jinhai’s fist descended like a falling star, glowing with violent, uncontrollable Qi, tearing through the very air with a force powerful enough to shatter bones, to rupture organs, to obliterate everything in its path—
The watching disciples held their breath.
The air itself shook beneath the weight of his strength, the sheer pressure of his enhanced cultivation radiating outward in unstable, pulsing waves, causing cracks to form beneath his feet, the battlefield itself quivering as if it would collapse beneath his sheer, monstrous power.
There was no technique behind his attack.
No grace.
No precision.
Only pure, mindless destruction.
A force meant to crush.
To annihilate.
To erase.
And yet—
As the world itself seemed to tremble before his might—
Xiao Lin exhaled.
A single breath.
A slow, measured motion.
And in that instant—
The battlefield changed.
Meng Jinhai’s attack reached inches from Xiao Lin’s chest.
And then—it stopped.
Or rather—
Xiao Lin stopped it.
With a single outstretched palm.
Effortless.
Casual.
Unmoved.
Meng Jinhai’s breath hitched, his eyes widening, his mind struggling to process what had just happened—how his full-powered strike, enhanced by a forbidden pill, pushed beyond his own cultivation limits, carrying with it the strength of the Ninth Level of Qi Gathering Realm, had been stopped so effortlessly, so easily, so completely.
It was not blocked.
It was not countered.
It was simply—rendered meaningless.
A silence fell over the arena.
A horrifying silence.
One that was not filled with awe.
Not with admiration.
But with something far more terrifying.
Dread.
Because Xiao Lin had not even moved.
His feet had not shifted.
His posture had not changed.
His expression had not faltered.
As if Meng Jinhai’s greatest attack—was not even worth acknowledging.
From the private pavilion, Zhan Kanzi’s fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair.
He had expected many things.
Expected Meng Jinhai to struggle.
Expected Xiao Lin to fight back.
Expected the battle to be difficult, unpredictable, even chaotic.
But this?
This was not a battle.
This was a massacre.
And the worst part?
It had not even begun yet.
Meng Jinhai roared.
He refused to accept it.
He refused to believe it.
The power coursing through his veins, the raw strength that should have made him unbeatable, the Qi that had surged beyond his limits—
How could it be nothing?
“YOU—!” His voice was a guttural growl, his muscles bulging, his veins pulsating, his Qi expanding into a wild, uncontrollable storm. “DIE!”
He pulled back.
His second fist rose.
And this time—he struck with everything.
If the first attack was meant to crush—this was meant to kill.
A punch that carried with it the weight of his entire body, his entire cultivation, every ounce of strength he could muster, concentrated into a single, destructive blow meant to reduce Xiao Lin to nothing but blood and shattered bones.
A mistake.
Because the moment Meng Jinhai committed to the strike—
Xiao Lin’s golden eyes flashed.
The moment stretched.
Time slowed.
Meng Jinhai felt it before he even understood.
The shift.
The change in the air.
The weight pressing down upon him—not from his own Qi, but from something far, far greater.
And in that instant, before his strike could even reach Xiao Lin, before he could even comprehend what had gone wrong—
A single, gentle tap landed against his chest.
A touch so soft, so faint, so insignificant—
Until it wasn’t.
BOOM.
A violent explosion of force erupted from that single point of contact, a shockwave ripping through Meng Jinhai’s body, his ribs caving inward, his internal meridians twisting violently, his Qi instantly collapsing as if it had been snuffed out like a dying flame.
His vision blurred.
His mind screamed.
And then—his body flew.
The world spun.
Stone shattered beneath him.
His bones cracked—one after another after another—
His body crashed against the far edge of the arena, the sheer force sending him skidding across the cracked battlefield, a trail of blood splattering across the once-pristine stone, his arms limp, his legs barely responding, his mind drowning in agony so overwhelming that it barely even felt real.
He could not breathe.
He could not move.
He could not—understand.
How?
How could this happen?
How could he, a warrior feared for his raw strength, a man who had been granted a refinement pill meant to elevate him beyond his limits, a cultivator who had stepped into the Ninth Level of Qi Gathering Realm even if only temporarily—lose in a single motion?
Lose without even making Xiao Lin take a single step?
The crowd could not comprehend it.
Disciples who had trained for years, who had witnessed countless battles, who had seen the strongest of the Outer Court rise and fall—none of them could understand what had just happened.
Xiao Lin had not dodged.
Had not countered.
Had not fought.
He had merely—ended it.
As if the fight had never even begun.
As if Meng Jinhai had never even been his opponent to begin with.
In the Inner Court Pavilion, the silence was deafening.
One of the seated Elders let out a slow breath.
“He’s reached the point where strength is no longer a measurement of power,” he murmured.
The younger Elders turned to him, confused.
The older man’s eyes narrowed.
“He no longer fights opponents.”
A pause.
Then—
“He simply determines whether or not they deserve to exist.”
Back on the battlefield, Xiao Lin exhaled softly, rolling his shoulders, his golden-flecked gaze flickering toward the ruined form of Meng Jinhai, his expression unreadable, his voice calm, almost bored.
“You were given power,” he murmured.
A pause.
Then—
“And yet, you were still nothing.”
He turned away.
Because this was no longer a competition.
It was a lesson.
And soon, the entire world would learn it.
