Immortal Supreme: Sovereign of the Grand Dao
Chapter 258: Eliminating Over Three Hundred Geniuses At Once!

Chapter 258: Eliminating Over Three Hundred Geniuses At Once!

The arena was a coliseum of titanic proportions, its stands packed with thousands of cultivators, sect elders, and noble spectators.

The vast circular structure loomed like an ancient war monument, its towering stone walls engraved with the battle records of past champions.

Golden banners of various sects and noble clans fluttered in the wind, casting shifting shadows over the waiting combatants.

At its heart stood Arthur, alone on the grandest stage, his hands resting lazily at his sides, his posture utterly relaxed.

Yet, despite his casual stance, his very presence dominated the space like an emperor surveying his domain.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"He’s too arrogant."

"Does he think standing alone against 300 geniuses is wise?"

"Fool. No matter how strong he is, the numbers will overwhelm him."

The skepticism was thick, voices overlapping as countless eyes scrutinized Arthur’s unshaken composure. But among the murmurs of disdain, another voice cut through the crowd.

"The Invincible... That’s what they called him in the Heavenly Sword Sect."

A group of disciples from the sect looked on with a mix of awe and disbelief. They had once fought beside Arthur, unaware of his true identity as the empire’s prince.

Now, as they watched him step into battle, they understood that the legend of ’Invincible’ had been no exaggeration.

A younger disciple swallowed hard, turning to his senior brother. "Senior, do you think he’ll actually win?"

The older disciple hesitated before nodding slowly. "You saw what he did before. This isn’t arrogance—it’s confidence."

At the high podium reserved for the elite, sect leaders observed with varying expressions.

The elders of the Heavenly Sword Sect exchanged knowing glances, while the Fire Spirit Sect’s leader scoffed.

"He’s strong, no doubt," one elder muttered. "But let’s see how long he lasts when the real monsters start moving."

The overseer, a figure draped in ancient ceremonial robes, raised his hand. His voice boomed across the arena.

"This battle will determine your final rankings. Fight, and prove your worth!"

A moment of silence.

Then, over 300 cultivators leaped onto the stage, their auras bursting forth like a storm of power.

Each warrior emanated their own unique martial spirits and techniques—fire, ice, lightning, sword intent, demonic qi.

The stage trembled under the sheer magnitude of gathered strength, cracks spreading like spiderwebs beneath their feet.

Yet Arthur did not move.

His golden eyes swept across the battlefield, scanning his opponents with calm indifference.

Among the many figures, one caught his attention slightly—a youth named Qin Tian. Unlike the others, Arthur sensed a familiar aura from him that made him look at him more closely.

’An interesting one,’ Arthur thought, storing the observation away as the overseer’s voice rang out again.

"Begin!"

Chaos erupted.

The weaker cultivators surged forward, eager to strike first and prove themselves. Martial spirits were released and techniques ignited, weapons slashed through the air, and battle cries echoed across the coliseum.

Flames roared to life, ice spears shot forward, and arcs of lightning streaked through the air. Some reckless ones even aimed directly for Arthur, hoping for instant glory.

Arthur sighed.

Too eager. Too weak.

He didn’t even need to raise a hand.

A silent pulse radiated from his body.

It was invisible to the eye, yet every cultivator on the stage felt it—a wave of incomprehensible soul pressure crashing down upon them.

The results were instantaneous.

One by one, they collapsed.

Some fell to their knees, gasping for breath. Others crumpled unconscious, their minds overwhelmed by the sheer weight of Arthur’s presence.

A few screamed as their consciousness faded, their bodies convulsing before going limp. The formation array embedded in the arena activated, flickering with runes, teleporting the unconscious bodies away.

The audience erupted in shock.

"What... what just happened?!"

"He didn’t even move!"

"He used pure soul pressure alone...?! Impossible!"

A noble from one of the major clans clenched his fists. "Soul suppression at this level should only be possible for ancient cultivators! How is he doing this?"

"I know! Only an ancient and lost soul cultivation technique would have this effect!"

The sect leaders tensed. Even the Fire Spirit Sect’s leader, who had mocked Arthur moments ago, leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"He suppressed them with his soul power alone... This level of ability... terrifying."

The murmurs from the audience did not go unnoticed by the remaining cultivators.

Those who had resisted the initial attack now felt an immense pressure settle over them—not from Arthur’s soul suppression, but from the reality of the situation.

On the battlefield, the dust settled.

Only 24 remained standing.

Among them were those who had stronger abilities and maybe even braces themselves for the attack and resisted through sheer will or exceptional cultivation.

Anastasia, Balor, Luke, Sun Wukong, and the imperial princes—Kalius, Julius, Xavier, Cedric—stood their ground. Zaith Asura, Thomas, Crixus, Mark, Gakner, Ava, Kira, Helia, and a handful of others, whom Arthur had no recollection of, also remained.

And then, there was Qin Tian.

The youth’s gaze met Arthur’s, not with fear, but with an almost amused wariness. He exhaled lightly, stretching his arms.

"So... this is what they call ’Invincible.’" His lips curled into a faint smile. "Interesting."

He had heard of Arthur’s journey before now and had been looking forward to encountering him in battle.

Arthur smirked. "You don’t look too surprised."

Qin Tian chuckled. "I had a feeling you’d be worth watching."

Nearby, Anastasia shook her head, her grip tightening around the hilt of her sword. "This is absurd... He eliminated over 300 geniuses without lifting a finger."

Ever since Arthur went into closed door cultivation and returned she felt like Arthur had become an entirely different person.

She couldn’t even begin to fathom his depths.

’Even father says that his true origin is very mysterious and terrifying,’ she thought.

Luke, standing beside her, exhaled sharply. "It’s not absurd. It’s the master after."

Luke felt that this was how it should be. He had that much faith in Arthur.

Anastasia merely looked at him and removed her gaze as she ha long known about Like who was basically Arthur’s most loyal subordinate and even worshipper would not be an exaggeration.

The remaining cultivators exchanged uncertain glances.

Some adjusted their stances, their previous confidence shaken.

They had entered this tournament expecting competition—but this? This was something else entirely.

One of the imperial princes, Julius, cracked his knuckles, his expression unreadable. "Impressive," he muttered. "But now comes the real test."

Balor, held his sword and exhaled. "Hah! I was hoping for a spar with him all these while to show my progress in the way of the sword." His aura flared, crackling with sharp sword intent.

Sun Wukong grinned, resting his staff on his shoulders. "Finally, some fun."

The battlefield was silent.

No one moved.

Arthur took a step forward.