Immortal Supreme: Sovereign of the Grand Dao
Chapter 257: I Challenge Everyone At Once!

Chapter 257: I Challenge Everyone At Once!

The moment Arthur stepped through the black rift, the world around him shifted.

Gone was the colossal staircase where countless warriors had fought to reach the pinnacle. In its place stretched an ethereal realm, untouched by time and filled with an oppressive, ancient aura.

Floating pieces of land drifted like silent sentinels through a sea of golden mist.

Massive, rune-etched pillars loomed in the distance, crackling with residual energy. Each breath carried the weight of millennia, as if the very air hummed with the echoes of long-forgotten emperors.

Arthur’s golden blue eyes locked onto the center of the realm—where a lone stone pedestal stood, untouched by dust or decay.

Atop it, a black-and-gold storage ring pulsed with a faint yet overwhelming pressure, as though the heavens themselves acknowledged its significance.

His steps were slow but deliberate. The moment he reached out, a wave of invisible force crashed against his soul—a test, a lingering will, seeking to judge his worthiness.

Arthur smirked.

His Chaos Dragon Bloodline roared in response, unfurling its dominance.

Black-gold draconic scales flickered across his arm as his soul essence surged forward, shattering the lingering will effortlessly. The realm trembled, the floating islands quaking in submission.

It was just a test of his recent bloodline breakthrough. Else if he used his own enormous soul power or even the one of the gems it would be an overkill.

Even the space he was now may not continue in it stability and might just disintegrate into the void.

He grabbed the ring at once.

The ring accepted him instantly. No resistance. No hesitation. As if it had been waiting.

The moment he slipped it onto his finger, a flood of memories surged through his mind. Not mere fragments—but crystal-clear recollections.

His past life as the Mortal Emperor. The wars he waged. The empires he built. And the contingency he had left behind for himself, knowing he would one day return.

Arthur exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

It had been his all along.

A flick of his will, and the ring’s spatial dimension unfolded before him.

Treasures beyond imagination.

Towering mountains of spirit stones, their radiance outshining the sun.

Divine elixirs stored in crystalline bottles, exuding scents so potent they could accelerate cultivation by centuries.

Ancient weapons, their auras still carrying the murderous intent of long-dead wielders.

And yet, Arthur ignored them all.

His gaze locked onto a single item at the very center—a jade seal, floating amidst a swirling formation of golden runes.

Unlike everything else, it did not radiate raw power. No divine suppression. No world-shaking aura.

But Arthur knew.

The moment his fingers closed around it, the truth crystallized in his mind.

The Martial Emperor Secret Realm.

The ultimate battlefield, set to open once the Grand Martial Arts Tournament concluded. A domain of unfathomable riches, where countless sects and clans would battle for supremacy.

The place rumored to help one establish a perfect foundation and breakthrough to the Martial Emperor Realm in cultivation level.

In a way that one will be able to surely become an Immortal.

Arthur’s smirk widened.

"With this," he murmured, "the entire secret realm belongs to me."

He clenched the jade seal once before storing it. No need to linger.

With a thought, he stepped out of the hidden dimension.

Reality resumed.

Aixen’s illusion remained flawless—his figure still stood atop the 999th step, unmoving.

None had noticed his absence.

For them, only a breath had passed.

And then, Arthur moved.

The stadium held its breath.

For hours, he had remained at the pinnacle, unchallenged, his aura suffocating the gathered geniuses.

His presence alone had subdued even the strongest among them.

And now, with nothing more than a casual step, he descended.

The moment his foot touched the first step downward, the entire space quaked.

BOOM.

A shockwave exploded outward, distorting the air itself. The sheer force sent lesser warriors reeling, their knees buckling beneath an invisible pressure.

Even the battle-hardened elders watching from the imperial stands found their expressions tightening.

Arthur was doing this on purpose as he wants to speed things up. It was a nudge from his Fate sense.

And he had to move faster so that he can avoid any unforeseeable interventions to his plan.

A single step.

Then another.

With each descent, the weight of his dragon bloodline filled the stadium, pressing down upon every soul present.

By the time he reached the arena floor, silence reigned.

Arthur’s gaze swept across the remaining competitors—dozens of warriors, each representing the pinnacle of their respective sects and clans.

His voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

"This tournament is taking too long."

He stepped forward, the air itself parting before him.

"Instead of waiting, I will challenge every remaining warrior at once."

Gasps.

Disbelief.

Even the most arrogant prodigies among them flinched.

Those who were still focused on fighting for second place on the steps realized that they could no longer advance no matter what.

It was like the chosen one has been found and there was no more need to look at the others.

They couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed by this.

Arthur noticed this but continued with his challenge.

"If you can defeat me," Arthur continued, his tone calm yet absolute, "the victory is yours. And even my dragon fortune will be taken by you."

The stadium erupted.

Cries of shock and murmurs of astonishment.

The strongest warriors of the young generation—the so-called prodigies who had spent their entire lives chasing power—felt their pride ignite like wildfire.

A battle-hardened youth from the Spirit Flame Sect clenched his fists, flames flickering in his irises.

A cold, elegant swordswoman from the Moonshadow Pavilion narrowed her eyes, gripping the hilt of her blade.

Even a certain hulking disciple of the Tyrant’s Fist Monastery let out a low growl, his muscles tensing.

Anastasia, Luke, Balor, Sun Wukong, the prince - Kalius, Cedric and Xavier, Julius, squinted their eyes but they still didn’t look afraid.

From the imperial throne, the Emperor leaned forward, intrigued.

Thus wasn’t part of what Arthur had discussed with him before.

And high above, still hidden in the clouds, the Draknoth Clan Elder’s golden eyes gleamed with slight excitement bordering on hunger.

’This here is the demeanor of a young supreme! Just like master back then,’ he thought.

This was no ordinary provocation.

This was domination.

The tournament overseers hesitated. Such an unprecedented challenge defied all traditions.

And yet, the moment they turned to the Hartfield Emperor for a ruling, the man merely smiled.

He lifted his hand.

A single nod.

Approval.

The decision sent the stadium into chaos.

Arthur would face every remaining genius at once.

And if he won—he would be crowned the next Crown Prince.

Arthur tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming.

"Good," he murmured. "Let’s get started, then."

The air shook with anticipation.

Dozens of prodigies—each carrying the weight of their sects and clans—stepped forward, their battle auras igniting like roaring flames.

Swords hummed. Spells crackled.

The battlefield was set.

And yet, Arthur merely rolled his shoulders, his smirk never fading.

The chaos was about to begin.

’I merely hope for a little fun...but I know that’s too much to ask of these kids. But who knows, someone might just surprise me.’ Arthur took a step forward.