Chapter 946: Another Region – The Myriad Reefs Sea Domain

The sensation of entering a Continental-Grade Teleportation Array was not like the smooth, instantaneous transit of a local formation. It was violent, visceral, and overwhelming, akin to being swallowed whole by a leviathan made of pure, blinding light. As the array flared to life beneath their feet, the stone platform in the abandoned mine vanished. Gravity ceased to exist. The stale air of the underground cavern was replaced instantly by a vacuum that sucked the breath from their lungs, followed immediately by a crushing pressure that felt as though the weight of an entire mountain range had been condensed into a fine cloak and draped over their shoulders.

They were inside the spatial tunnel. It was a chaotic, mesmerizing tube of distorted reality. The walls were not stone or metal, but streaking lines of starlight and void energy, rushing past at speeds that defied comprehension. Colors that had no names in the mortal realm flashed and spiraled, creating a kaleidoscope of vertigo. The roar was deafening, a constant, thrumming vibration that rattled their very bones and threatened to scramble their dantians.

Ye Fan stood at the edge of the group, his feet planted firmly on the shimmering, semi-solid energy floor of the tunnel. His face, illuminated by the erratic flashes of void lightning, was a mask of unbridled fury. His heavy black sword was in his hand, the knuckles white from the intensity of his grip. He glared at Wang Jian, his eyes burning with a golden fire that seemed to push back the encroaching darkness of the void.

“You followed me!” Ye Fan shouted, his voice distorted and tinny in the strange acoustic environment of the tunnel. “You used me! You waited until I repaired the array, until I exhausted my resources, and then you hijacked my escape! Is this the conduct of a righteous disciple of the Mystic Peak Sect?!”

Wang Jian stood calmly in the center of his group, his arm wrapped securely around Yue Lingshan’s waist to stabilize her against the turbulence. He looked at the protagonist with an expression of innocent, almost hurt confusion.

“Brother Ye, your words wound me,” Wang Jian replied, his voice magically amplified by his Qi to cut through the roar of the tunnel. “We are merely fellow travelers escaping a hopeless war. The Demonic Sects have descended like a plague. We saw a righteous brother in distress, working alone in a dangerous mine, and we came to… assist. We simply didn’t want to interrupt your magnificent craftsmanship until you were finished. Don’t be so stingy with your escape route, Brother Ye. The array is large enough for all of us.”

“Assist?!” Ye Fan spat, his golden aura flaring as he struggled to keep his balance against a sudden lurch of the tunnel. “You ambushed me! You brought an army!”

He looked at the group surrounding Wang Jian. The beautiful women, the terrified maids, the sheer number of people Wang Jian was moving. It looked less like a fleeing refugee group and more like a royal procession.

Suddenly, the tunnel shuddered violently. A crack of void lightning struck the energy wall nearby, sending a shockwave through the transit stream.

“The coordinates are old!” Yue Lingshan cried out, her face pale as she analyzed the streaming runes flowing past them. She clung to Wang Jian, her fingers digging into his robes. “The destination anchor… it’s unstable! The spatial turbulence is increasing!”

The pressure in the tunnel spiked. It became a physical weight, pressing down on their chests. For Wang Jian and the Foundation Establishment cultivators, it was uncomfortable but manageable. But for the five married maids—Li Mei and her sisters—who were only at the Qi Condensation realm, it was torture. They fell to their knees, gasping, blood trickling from their noses as their weaker bodies struggled to cope with the spatial shearing force.

“Master…” Li Mei wheezed, her face turning blue.

Wang Jian’s expression hardened. He couldn’t lose his logistics team. He turned to Mu Lianhua, who was standing stoically nearby, her robes fluttering in the void wind.

“Elder Mu,” Wang Jian commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Protect the weak. Expand your aura. Do not let them be crushed.”

“Yes, Deacon Wang,” Mu Lianhua replied instantly.

She stepped forward, her hands moving in a graceful arc. Her Core Formation aura, vast and deep as an ocean, exploded outwards. It wasn’t an attack, but a shelter. A brilliant, azure-blue bubble of spiritual energy formed around the group, encasing the maids, the Shadow Flowers, and even extending to shield Yue Lingshan and Chen Ying.

The pressure inside the bubble vanished instantly. The maids gasped, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air, looking at Mu Lianhua with worshipful gratitude.

Ye Fan, watching from a few feet away, felt his jaw drop. He stared at Mu Lianhua, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. ’A Core Formation expert…’ Ye Fan thought, his mind racing. ’She is a genuine Core Formation powerhouse. Her aura is stable, terrifyingly deep. Why? Why does she obey him?’

He looked at Wang Jian. Wang Jian was merely a Foundation Establishment cultivator. A talented one, perhaps, but still a junior compared to the woman in the purple dress. Yet, he had given an order—a command, not a request—and she had obeyed without a second of hesitation. There was no arrogance in her posture towards him, only a respectful, almost subservient compliance.

’Who is this Wang Jian really?’ Ye Fan wondered, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the void. ’Is he a hidden young master of a Holy Land? Does he hold some leverage over her? This dynamic… it’s unnatural.’

This confusion only added to Ye Fan’s wariness. He tightened his grip on his sword, moving slightly further away from the group, positioning himself near the edge of the energy stream.

The tunnel shook again, harder this time. The walls of the tunnel began to thin, revealing glimpses of the terrifying reality outside—flashes of void storms, swirling nebulas of destructive energy, and distorted stars that looked like watching eyes. It was a terrifying sight for the lower-level women. Bai Xue let out a small whimper, hiding her face in her hands.

Wang Jian remained perfectly calm. He looked at the chaos outside with the detached interest of a tourist looking at a storm through a thick glass window. He wasn’t worried. Not in the slightest.

’I am standing next to the Son of Luck,’ Wang Jian thought, glancing at Ye Fan. ’The protagonist never dies in a teleportation accident. His plot armor is the strongest shield in existence. As long as we stick close to him, we will land safely. It might be rough, but we will arrive.’

He looked down at Yue Lingshan, whose face was buried in his chest. “Fear not, Lingshan,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “We are safe. Trust me.”

He glanced at Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan, who were standing guard at the edges of the protective bubble. He gave them reassuring nods. They nodded back, their eyes fixed on him, drawing strength from his unshakable confidence.

Suddenly, the endless tunnel began to brighten. A blinding, brilliant blue light appeared at the far end, growing larger by the second. The smell changed. The ozone scent of the void was replaced by a blast of heavy, humid air. It smelled of salt. Of brine. Of vast, open water.

“Brace yourselves!” Wang Jian shouted.

The end of the tunnel rushed towards them.

BOOM!

They were ejected from the void. It wasn’t a gentle arrival. It was like being shot out of a cannon. The group materialized in mid-air, fifty feet above the ground. The sudden return of gravity hit them like a hammer. They were falling towards a hard, white stone surface below.

“Elder Mu!” Wang Jian barked.

Mu Lianhua reacted instantly. She pushed her palms downward. A cushion of soft, azure wind Qi erupted from her hands, catching the entire group like a giant, invisible hand. Their descent slowed dramatically, turning a fatal fall into a gentle landing. They touched down softly on the cracked stone tiles of a ruined plaza.

Ye Fan, however, did not wait for assistance. He twisted in the air like a cat, his golden flames wrapping around his legs. He landed nimbly on his feet a hundred yards away, instantly dropping into a defensive crouch, his sword raised, creating distance between himself and Wang Jian’s mysterious group.

Silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic crashing of waves and the cries of seabirds. They looked around. They were standing on a small, desolate island. The plaza they had landed on was ancient, the stone worn smooth by eons of wind and rain. Surrounding them on all sides was an ocean.

An endless, impossible ocean.

The sky was a brilliant, piercing sapphire blue, cloudless and vast. The sun beat down with a tropical intensity. The air was thick, humid, and salty, rich with a Water Attribute Qi that was wilder and more chaotic than anything in the State of Yue.

“We… we made it,” Yue Lingshan breathed, looking at the horizon where the blue water met the blue sky.

Ye Fan stood alone on the edge of the ruin. He looked at Wang Jian, then at Mu Lianhua. His expression was a mix of anger, suspicion, and pragmatic calculation. He knew he was in danger. A mysterious group led by a manipulative man, backed by a Core Formation expert who followed his orders… this was a death trap waiting to happen. If they decided to silence him to keep the array a secret, or simply to rob him, he would be hard-pressed to survive.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t wait for introductions or fake pleasantries. His hand blurred, reaching into his robes. He crushed a jade talisman. It wasn’t a standard escape talisman. It shattered with a sound like breaking glass, releasing a pulse of silver, spatial energy that warped the light around him.

“Lesser Void-Shifting Talisman.”

Wang Jian’s eyes narrowed. That was an incredibly rare, life-saving treasure, worth tens of thousands of spirit stones. It allowed for random, instant teleportation over a massive distance, bypassing most locking arrays. Wang Jian could have ordered Mu Lianhua to stop him. She was fast enough. A single strike could have disrupted the talisman’s activation.

But Wang Jian held up a hand, signaling his women to stand down.

’No,’ he thought. ’Let him go. Tracking the Son of Luck continuously is like holding a tiger by the tail. Eventually, the backlash of his luck will bite you. Besides, he has served his purpose. He brought us out of the war zone. If I push him too hard now, he might detonate some hidden trump card that drags us all down.’

“We will meet again, Wang Jian!” Ye Fan shouted, his voice filled with a promise of future reckoning. His figure began to distort, turning into a streak of silver light.

“I look forward to it, Brother Ye!” Wang Jian called back cheerfully, waving his hand.

ZAP.

Ye Fan vanished. He teleported randomly, thrown a thousand miles away into the vast unknown of this new world.

The group was alone on the island.

Mu Lianhua stepped up beside Wang Jian, her aura retracting slightly now that the immediate threat was gone. “Master,” she whispered, ensuring Yue Lingshan was out of earshot as she dropped the ’Elder’ persona for a second. “Should I have stopped him? He seemed… resentful.”

“No,” Wang Jian replied softly. “He has served his purpose. Let him run. A man like that causes chaos wherever he goes. He will draw the attention of the local powers, distract the monsters, and uncover ruins. We will find him again when the time is right. For now, he is just another variable in the wind.”

He turned to the group. “Status check.”

Yue Lingshan was walking in a circle, her hand holding a compass artifact that was spinning wildly. “The spiritual energy here… it is different,” she murmured, her brow furrowed in fascination. “It is different. In the State of Yue, the Qi is stable, grounded in the earth veins. Here… it is chaotic. Wild. It flows like the tides. Water attribute Qi is dominant, but there is a violent Wind attribute mixed in. It is… untamed.”

Chen Ying walked to the edge of the plaza, looking down at the crashing waves. She gripped her sword. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice tight. “This is not the State of Qin. Nor the State of Yue. There is no ocean like this near the Great land.”

“The Unknown,” Mu Lianhua said slowly. “I have read ancient texts in the sect archives… legends of a vast sea beyond the Great Desolation, where the land is shattered into a million pieces. But… I never imagined it was real.”

Wang Jian knew exactly where they were. He recognized the tropes. The Infinite Sea. The Shattered Archipelago. It was a classic cultivation setting for the mid-stages of a hero’s journey. But he feigned ignorance.

“We are far from home,” Wang Jian said gravely. “We need information before we can move. We are blind.”

Liu Ruyan, who had climbed atop a broken pillar to get a better view, suddenly pointed towards the horizon. “Look!” she called out. “A ship! To the southeast!”

The group turned. Sure enough, a black dot was visible on the shimmering water. It was growing larger.

“A ship,” Wang Jian smiled. “Excellent. It’s flying a flag I don’t recognize. That means locals.” He looked at the vessel. It was a medium-sized ship, moving against the wind, leaving a wake of white foam. “That,” Wang Jian said, pointing at the distant vessel, “is our library. That is our map. Let’s go say hello.”

The ship was a sturdy vessel, its hull constructed from dark, resonant Iron-Wood that repelled the corrosive salt of the spiritual ocean. It was powered not by sails alone, but by a formation array at the stern that churned the water. On the deck, a crew of rough-looking cultivators moved about. They were mostly at the Qi Condensation realm, their skin tanned like old leather, their bodies covered in scars and tattoos of sea beasts.

The Captain stood at the helm. He was a burly man with a beard braided with shells, holding a heavy harpoon made of bone. He was a Foundation Establishment cultivator, early stage. He was currently scanning the horizon for Sea Beasts, completely unaware that a much more dangerous predator was descending from the sky.

“Approach,” Wang Jian commanded quietly.

Mu Lianhua wrapped the group in her aura again. They flew low over the waves, skimming the crests, approaching the ship from its blind spot, directly out of the sun.

“We don’t negotiate,” Wang Jian told Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan. “We shock and awe. Secure the deck. Do not kill the captain; I need his mind.”

“Understood,” Chen Ying whispered, her eyes cold.

They reached the ship. “Now!” Wang Jian signaled.

Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan dropped from the sky like hawks.

THUD. THUD.

They landed on the main deck with heavy impacts that shook the timber. Before the crew could even register what was happening, Chen Ying moved. Her sword, ’Winter’s Sorrow’, flashed out of its sheath. She didn’t kill anyone, but she moved with such terrifying speed that within a second, her blade was pressed against the throat of the First Mate.

“Move and he dies,” she hissed, her killing intent flooding the deck.

Simultaneously, Liu Ruyan raised her hand. Her Blood Spirit Flame erupted, hovering above her palm like a miniature sun. The intense heat distorted the air. She threw a wave of fire that incinerated a pile of ropes near the mast, demonstrating her power.

“Stay where you are!” she commanded, her voice ringing out.

The crew froze, weapons half-drawn, staring at the two beautiful, terrifying women who had fallen from the sky.

“Pirates?!” The Captain roared, spinning around from the helm, grabbing his harpoon. “On my ship?! You seek death!”

He flared his aura, preparing to charge. Then, Mu Lianhua descended. She didn’t land. She floated ten feet above the deck, her purple dress fluttering in the sea breeze. She looked down at the Captain with the imperious gaze of a queen looking at a bug.

She released a fraction of her power. Just a fraction.

BOOM.

The spiritual pressure of a Peak Core Formation expert crashed down onto the ship. The Iron-Wood hull groaned under the stress. The ship dipped lower in the water. The crew collapsed instantly, pinned to the deck, unable to breathe.

The Captain, who had been charging, felt as if a mountain had been dropped on his shoulders. His knees shattered against the deck. He vomited a mouthful of blood, his harpoon clattering away.

“Senior!” he wheezed, terror filling his eyes. “Mercy! We surrender!”

Wang Jian landed calmly on the deck, right in front of the kneeling Captain. He looked pristine, his robes untouched by the salt spray.

“We are not pirates,” Wang Jian said pleasantly, crouching down to look the Captain in the eye. “We are… lost tourists. We just need directions.”

The Captain trembled. “Directions? Just… just ask, Senior! I will tell you anything!”

“I prefer not to rely on words,” Wang Jian said, his voice hardening. “Words can lie. Memories cannot.”

He stood up and placed his hand on the Captain’s forehead. “I will be taking your memories now,” he stated coldly. “Do not resist. If you fight me, your brain will turn to mush and you will live the rest of your life drooling in a corner. Relax, and you might just get a headache.”

The Captain whimpered, but he didn’t dare resist. Wang Jian activated a Soul-Searching Technique he had learned from the Crimson Pill Sect’s forbidden library. He drove his spiritual sense into the Captain’s mind.

It was a rush of images, sounds, and sensations. The smell of brine. The roar of storms.

Map data loading…

Region Name: The Myriad Reefs Sea Domain.

Structure: A massive ocean with no central continent. Just countless islands, archipelagos, and reefs.

Political Power: Ruled by loose alliances of Island Lords. The strongest cultivators are at the Nascent Soul stage, ruling the major “Tier 1” islands. Core Formation experts are common lords of smaller islands.

Dangers: The sea is ruled by the beasts. Beast Tides are common. Rogue waves. Ancient ruins that rise from the deep. And pirates—ruthless factions like the “Black Shark Alliance.”

Current Location: The Outer Ring of the domain. Desolate waters.

Nearest Port: Red Coral Island. A major trade hub and neutral territory, ruled by the “Red Coral Ancestor” (Nascent Soul).

Wang Jian pulled back, releasing the groggy Captain. He processed the information instantly. “Excellent,” he said.

He stood up and addressed the terrified crew and the dazed Captain. “This ship is now ours,” Wang Jian announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the vessel. “You will sail us to Red Coral Island. Serve us well, navigate true, and you will live. You might even be rewarded.” He let his gaze sharpen. “Betray us… try to signal for help… or steer us wrong… and you feed the fish. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes! Yes, Senior!” the crew chorused, pressing their foreheads to the deck. They were terrified of the Core Formation woman floating above them, but this man… this man had a look in his eyes that was even scarier.

“Good,” Wang Jian nodded. “Set a course. West.”

The ship turned, its prow cutting through the waves, heading towards the setting sun and the new adventure that awaited them.

Wang Jian commandeered the Captain’s quarters. It was the largest room on the ship, spacious and surprisingly luxurious, furnished with exotic woods and furs from sea beasts.

“Everyone else, find quarters below or stay on deck,” Wang Jian ordered. “Lingshan, you come with me.”

He led his wife into the cabin and locked the heavy door, activating a privacy talisman. Yue Lingshan stood in the center of the room. She looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, then at her husband.

For the past few weeks, she had been the model wife. Supportive. Understanding. She had accepted Mu Lianhua. She had accepted the maids. She had even accepted the strange, close dynamic between Wang Jian and the other women like Chen Ying and Liu Ruyan. But she was not blind. She had seen the way Liu Ruyan looked at him—that hungry, worshipful gaze. She had seen the way Chen Ying lingered near him, like a guard dog waiting for a pat. And Mu Lianhua… the way the Sect Mistress obeyed him was… unsettlingly complete.

Yue Lingshan felt a spike of insecurity. She was his wife. His first love. But these women… they were powerful. Beautiful. And they were clearly encroaching on her territory. She looked at Wang Jian, who was pouring himself a glass of wine found in the captain’s cabinet.

“Husband,” she said softly.

“Mmm?” Wang Jian turned, smiling at her. “Tired? It’s been a long day.”

“I am not tired,” she said, her voice dropping.

She walked over to the window and pulled the heavy curtains shut, plunging the room into a dim, amber twilight lit only by the spirit lamps. She turned back to him. Her hands went to the sash of her robes—her Mystic Peak Sect deacon robes, which she had worn with pride for so long.

“Lingshan?” Wang Jian asked, raising an eyebrow, though a spark of interest lit his eyes.

“I… I have noticed,” she murmured, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the knot. “The way they look at you. Ruyan. Chen Ying. Even… even Elder Mu.”

She let the outer robe fall to the floor. She was wearing a translucent silk undergarment that hugged her figure. Her body was perfect—soft, feminine, with wide hips and large, round breasts that heaved with her nervous breathing.

“They want you,” she stated, her eyes locking onto his. “I see it.”

Wang Jian set his glass down. He didn’t deny it. “They are… loyal.”

“Loyalty is one thing,” Lingshan whispered. She reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting the dark cascade fall over her shoulders. “Desire is another.”

She stepped closer to him. “I am your wife, Jian. I am the one who married you when you were a mortal. I am the one who stood by you.”

She let the silk undergarment slide off her shoulders. It pooled at her waist, then fell to the floor. She stood before him, completely naked. Her skin glowed in the lamplight. Her peach-shaped hips were wide and inviting. Her large breasts jiggled softly as she moved, the pink nipples hardening under his gaze.

“I need you to know,” she whispered, stepping right up to him, placing her hands on his chest. “I need you to know that I am enough. That you don’t need them.”

She began to move. It wasn’t the practiced, slutty dance of Mu Lianhua. It wasn’t the professional seduction of the Shadow Flowers. It was raw. It was clumsy. It was desperate. She swayed her hips, a slow, rhythmic motion. She ran her hands down her own body, tracing the curve of her waist, cupping her own breasts and lifting them towards him.

“Look at me, husband,” she pleaded softly. “Am I not beautiful?”

She spun around, looking back at him over her shoulder. She shook her hips, making her soft, fleshy buttocks jiggle. It was a move she had never done before, something she had instinctively picked up perhaps from seeing the other women.

Wang Jian watched her. He felt a surge of genuine lust, mixed with a deep, possessive satisfaction. His righteous, noble wife… dancing naked for him out of jealousy. Trying to out-slut the sluts to keep him.

It was delicious.

“You are beautiful, Lingshan,” he growled, reaching out to grab her hips. “You are magnificent.”

He pulled her onto the bed. He spent the night worshipping her body. He didn’t use the rough, degrading tactics he used with Lianhua or Chen Ying. He made love to her with a passionate intensity, focusing on her pleasure, making her scream his name, making her feel like the only woman in the world. He played with her massive breasts, burying his face in them, praising their softness, their shape. He entered her deeply, looking into her eyes, reaffirming his claim on her.

“You are my wife,” he whispered against her lips as he thrust into her. “My first. My heart.”

“Yes… Jian… only me…” she moaned, wrapping her legs around him, her insecurity melting away in the heat of his possession.

He satisfied her completely, again and again, until she lay limp and glowing in his arms, her fears assuaged by the sheer volume of his attention. But as she fell asleep on his chest, a satisfied smile on her face, Wang Jian remained awake, staring at the ceiling. He stroked her hair gently. He meant what he said—she was his wife.

But a King needed more than a Queen.

He thought of Mu Lianhua in the other room. He thought of Ruyan. He thought of the new world awaiting them at Red Coral Island. His smile widened in the dark.

’Sleep well, my love. You are enough for my heart. But my lust… my lust needs an army.’

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