The Supreme Eternal Prime God 1000X System From Beginning Chapter 33

The battlefield was silent.

Not just silent in the way of a paused battle, not silent in the way of an audience holding its breath in anticipation, not silent in the way of two warriors waiting for the next exchange—

No.

This was the kind of silence that only followed when a truth had been realized too late.

The kind of silence that swallowed up the arrogance, the confidence, the certainty of those who had once believed in their own strength—only to be met with something that should not exist, something that defied the natural laws of cultivation, something that had rendered every belief they held about power and ability utterly meaningless.

Huang Xue stood frozen.

His Qi, which had moments ago pulsed with controlled ferocity, shaping the battlefield to his will, had now begun to flicker, to waver, as though his very essence was rejecting the situation before him, as though his body was refusing to accept what his mind already knew—

That he had never been in control.

That he had never had a chance.

That all of his techniques, all of his strategies, all of his carefully constructed plans had been nothing more than an illusion he had created for himself, a desperate hope that if he just played his cards correctly, if he just believed hard enough in his own abilities, then perhaps—perhaps—he could stand in the same space as Xiao Lin.

But that was never going to happen.

Because Xiao Lin was not playing the same game.

Xiao Lin had never been playing at all.

In the private pavilion, where only the strongest of the Outer Court were permitted to observe, Zhan Kanzi’s fingers curled slowly into fists, his sharp eyes locked onto the battlefield below, his breath steady, his posture unmoving, yet within his chest, for the first time in years—a thin, cold sliver of doubt lodged itself into his thoughts.

He had always been confident.

He had always been certain.

That was the foundation of his strength, the reason he had risen above all others, the reason why he had never truly feared anyone within the Outer Court.

Because power was predictable.

Strength could be measured.

Talent could be understood.

And yet, as he watched Huang Xue—a disciple whose ability to control a battlefield had never once been challenged, a cultivator whose intelligence had made him a dangerous opponent to even those stronger than him—break in real time, his Qi trembling, his mind unable to process the simple truth that Xiao Lin had already decided the outcome of this fight before it had even begun—

Zhan Kanzi finally understood why the others were afraid.

Because this—this was not strength.

This was inevitability.

And you cannot fight inevitability.

Across the battlefield, standing as if untouched by the world itself, his golden eyes half-lidded in quiet indifference, his aura calm yet suffocating, his presence sending invisible tremors through the very fabric of reality around him, Xiao Lin exhaled.

Not a sigh of effort.

Not a sigh of frustration.

A sigh of boredom.

He had given Huang Xue a chance.

Not because he respected him.

Not because he saw him as a challenge.

But because he had wanted to see if there was even a single reason to acknowledge him.

And now—he had his answer.

There was not.

And so, with the slow, unhurried grace of a being who had long since stepped beyond the limits of the mortals surrounding him, Xiao Lin lifted a single hand.

Not in preparation for an attack.

Not in defense.

Not in retaliation.

But simply to end the illusion.

A flick of his wrist.

A pulse of Qi.

A motion so simple, so effortless, so indifferent—

Yet the moment it happened—Huang Xue collapsed.

Not from an injury.

Not from an attack.

Not from pain.

But from the realization that he was no longer standing on a battlefield, but beneath something beyond comprehension.

His knees hit the stone.

His arms trembled.

His breath caught in his throat.

His entire body, his entire cultivation, his entire will screamed at him to fight back.

But he couldn’t.

Because you cannot fight against the sky.

You can only kneel beneath it.

The crowd froze.

Not a single voice spoke.

Not a single movement was made.

Because what they were witnessing was not victory.

It was the destruction of a belief.

The belief that anyone in the Outer Court could challenge Xiao Lin.

The belief that talent, effort, and ambition still mattered.

The belief that he was still human.

But now, they understood.

Xiao Lin was no longer competing.

He was deciding.

From the Inner Court Pavilion, where only the most powerful elders and elite disciples resided, a single voice broke the silence.

Soft.

Amused.

Inevitable.

“It’s over.”

A pause.

Then—

“It was over before it even began.”

In the depths of the Azure Dragon Academy’s highest chambers, where few were ever permitted to step, where the strongest resided, where decisions were made not based on personal ambition but on the balance of power itself, an ancient figure opened his eyes.

A whisper.

A name.

A presence.

A force.

The elder’s lips curled into something resembling a smile.

“So,” he murmured, his voice slow, thoughtful, heavy with something resembling interest.

“He has arrived.”

A long silence stretched across the sacred halls.

Then—

“Prepare the Inner Court.”

A pause.

“Xiao Lin is coming.”

And just like that—the academy would never be the same again.