Chapter 980: The Beautiful Pavilion

The next morning arrived not with the triumphant crow of a rooster or the gentle, stirring breezes of the Myriad Reefs Sea Region, but with a muted, artificial stillness. High above the Ice Heart Pavilion, the Seven-Star Obscurity Array continued its flawless deception, projecting an image of undisturbed tranquility to the bustling metropolis of Azure Cloud City. Yet, as the morning sunlight filtered through the intricate, frost-covered latticework of the pavilion’s high windows, it illuminated a scene of absolute, decadent depravity within the master chamber that fundamentally defied everything the Ice Heart Palace stood for.

The expansive, circular bed, once a pristine sanctuary for profound meditation and the refinement of cold, emotionless Qi, had been thoroughly desecrated. It was now the epicenter of a sweaty, musk-filled den of subjugation.

Wang Jian lounged lazily in the absolute center of the massive bed, treating the area as his own personal, sexy beautiful heaven. He lay completely naked, his muscular, perfectly tempered physique radiating a dark, mesmerizing vitality. He was a predator resting comfortably amidst his spoils, completely surrounded by twenty-three naked, voluptuous beauties. Their very fair skin, so characteristic of the Ice Heart Palace’s rigorous, sheltered cultivation, contrasted sharply against the dark, starlit aura that clung to Wang Jian’s flesh. The sheer volume of soft, yielding forms created a literal landscape of flesh—a chaotic, breathtaking sea of large breasts, curvaceous buttocks, and tangled limbs spread across the snow-fox furs and the thick carpets below.

He had arranged them not as defeated cultivators, but as living furniture, entirely disregarding their former status and dignity.

Wang Jian rested his heavy calves and feet upon the unconscious, exhausted bodies of two young Foundation Establishment disciples. They lay flat on their stomachs at the foot of the bed, their soft, very fair backs serving as his footrests. The stark visual contrast between his dark, powerful legs pressing down into their delicate, pale skin was a silent testament to his absolute conquest.

For his upper body, he found an even softer accommodation. He rested his head comfortably on the large, massive breasts of Elder Leng. The Early-Stage Core Formation expert was forced to lie on her back, her arms pinned to her sides by the lingering, suppressive weight of his Stellar Demonic Qi. Her soft, heavy bosom, completely bare and exposed, served as his personal pillow. Every time she took a shaky, trembling breath, her massive breasts would rise and fall, gently rocking Wang Jian’s head.

The Ice Heart women were wide awake now, the lingering effects of the Drunken Lotus Slumber having completely faded. However, they were entirely helpless. Their dantians remained absolutely sealed by Wang Jian’s dark energy, rendering them weaker than mortal women. They could not summon a single wisp of Ice Qi to defend themselves or even to regulate their body temperatures. Their bodies ached profoundly from the forceful extraction of their Primal Yin the previous night, and their minds were fractured by the sheer, unadulterated humiliation of their current state.

Yet, the most insidious torment was not the physical soreness or the loss of their cultivation. It was the betrayal of their own flesh.

Despite hating him greatly, despite wishing a thousand agonizing deaths upon the man lounging among them, their bodies had been systematically conditioned and corrupted by his Stellar Demonic Qi. The parasitic energy he had injected into them during the extraction process lingered in their bloodstreams and dormant meridians. It acted as an aggressive, forced aphrodisiac, overriding their icy discipline. Whenever his dark hands lazily roamed over their naked curves, whenever his skin brushed against theirs, their very fair skin would flush a deep, shameful crimson. They would tremble uncontrollably, their breathing hitching as unwanted, intense heat coiled in their lower abdomens, causing their pink nipples to harden into tight pebbles against their will.

’Why…’ Elder Leng thought, tears leaking silently from the corners of her eyes as she stared blankly at the ornate ceiling, feeling the weight of the demon’s head resting upon her bare breasts. ’Why does my body burn? I should feel nothing but the profound cold of the void. I should be completely detached. Yet… when he shifts his weight… my heart races. My flesh weakens. I am ruined. We are all completely ruined.’

Wang Jian shifted comfortably, his dark eyes scanning the room. He reached out with a lazy, arrogant motion and grabbed the breast of a young disciple who had been forced to kneel near his side. He squeezed the soft, heavy flesh playfully, his long fingers sinking into her breast, his thumb brushing roughly over her pink nipple.

The girl gasped sharply, her body arching toward his hand even as tears of pure hatred and despair streamed down her cheeks.

“You are all so soft,” Wang Jian murmured, his voice a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the silent room. He genuinely appreciated the aesthetics of his conquest, his eyes tracing the lines of their curvaceous buttocks, the swell of their hips, and the vibrant contrast of their pink nipples against their pale skin. “So perfect. The Ice Heart Palace truly knows how to cultivate the finest cauldrons in the Myriad Reefs Sea Region. It is a pity you wasted centuries hiding these bodies under layers of heavy, shapeless robes.”

He released the weeping girl’s breast and turned his attention to the woman kneeling at his right side.

Bing Yun, the esteemed master of the Holy Maiden, the aloof Ice Fairy who had once looked at him as if he were dirt beneath her boots, was now kneeling on the furs, entirely naked and thoroughly subjugated. Her body was visibly sore from the relentless, brutal fucking she had endured hours prior, her inner thighs trembling slightly from the exertion.

“Fairy Bing,” Wang Jian commanded, his tone lazy but carrying an undeniable, heavy authority. “I am thirsty. Feed me.”

Beside him sat a silver platter laden with high-grade, spiritually rich fruits they had won at the auction. Bing Yun stared at the platter, her silver hair falling in a disheveled mess around her face, her pale blue eyes swimming with a mixture of profound exhaustion and deep-seated loathing.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her pride warring with the absolute reality of her powerlessness.

Wang Jian’s eyes narrowed slightly. He raised his hand, the threat implicit.

Bing Yun flinched, the phantom sting of his previous smacks burning on her flesh. She leaned forward, her massive, voluptuous breasts swaying heavily with the movement. She picked up a plump, purple spirit-grape, but she did not use her hands to offer it to him. She knew what he wanted. She placed the grape between her own soft lips, holding it delicately with her teeth.

She leaned over Wang Jian, her bare knees pressing into the furs, her large breasts hovering mere inches from his face. She lowered her head, offering the fruit from her mouth to his.

Wang Jian smiled, a dark, wicked expression. He leaned up slightly and took the grape from her lips, his tongue intentionally brushing against hers, tasting the sweet juice and the bitter tang of her humiliated tears.

’I am a monster,’ Bing Yun thought, her mind a chaotic whirlwind of despair as she pulled back, her face burning with unparalleled shame. ’I am kneeling before a demonic beast, feeding him like a subservient slave while my disciples watch. I have failed them. I have failed the ancestors. There is no coming back from this abyss.’

Wang Jian chewed the fruit slowly, savoring the flavor and the absolute psychological dominance of the moment. Whenever he felt even a slight twinge of lust stirring within his dark, starlit core, he did not hesitate to act upon it. He viewed the twenty-three women around him as an extension of his own property, a living pantry of flesh and pleasure.

He reached out and grabbed the wrist of a beautiful, weeping disciple who was huddled nearby. With a single, effortless pull, he dragged her trembling, naked body over the furs and positioned her over his lap.

“Master, please…” the girl whimpered, her hands pressing weakly against his chest.

“Silence,” Wang Jian ordered smoothly.

He didn’t bother with any preamble. He didn’t offer a single word of comfort or an ounce of foreplay. He treated her literally as a slutty sex toilet, a mere vessel to empty his momentary urges. He grabbed her curvaceous buttocks, lifting her slightly, and thrust his massive dick upward, penetrating her slick, virgin pink pussy in one smooth, dominant motion.

The girl let out a high-pitched cry, her head throwing back as the searing, invasive heat of his Yang Qi flooded her sealed meridians.

Wang Jian fucked her right there in the center of the bed, surrounded by her peers and her elders. He set a brutal, relentless pace, his hips snapping upward, the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies colliding filling the chamber once more. He satisfied his sudden urge quickly and efficiently, draining a fresh wave of residual Yin energy from her core before reaching his peak and filling her with his scorching seed.

When he was finished, he simply withdrew, pulling her off his lap, and tossed her carelessly aside onto the pile of naked, trembling bodies at the edge of the bed. She lay there, panting and crying, her thighs covered in his white essence, completely broken.

“Next time I am hungry,” Wang Jian stated to the room at large, wiping a stray drop of sweat from his brow, “I expect you to present yourselves without me having to reach for you.”

The women were forced to cater to his every depraved whim. They were stripped of their identities as cultivators and reduced entirely to their physical assets. He would point, and a disciple would be forced to crawl forward, presenting her large breasts to be swallowed in his mouth, his teeth grazing her pink nipples until she whimpered in forced pleasure. He would gesture, and another would have to turn around, offering her curvaceous buttocks to be fondled and squeezed by his rough, demanding hands.

If any woman showed even a flicker of defiance, if she hesitated for a second to serve him, or if she tried to cover her exposed virgin pink pussy with her hands, Wang Jian’s punishment was swift and ruthlessly humiliating.

A disciple named Xue’er instinctively crossed her arms over her chest when Wang Jian’s gaze fell upon her.

“Did I give you permission to hide your body from me?” Wang Jian asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.

He reached out, grabbed her by the ankle, and flipped her onto her stomach across the furs.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

He ruthlessly smacked her curvaceous buttocks with his heavy, broad hand. The sharp, cracking sounds echoed like thunder, instantly leaving bright, vivid red handprints across her very fair skin.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Xue’er sobbed, her body writhing in pain and profound humiliation.

“You are my property,” Wang Jian declared, his hand raised for another strike. “Your flesh is mine to view, mine to touch, and mine to use. Do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes, Master! I understand!” she cried out, completely submitting to his overwhelming physical and psychological violence.

He released her, letting her curl into a weeping ball of red, stinging flesh.

He reveled in his absolute dominion. He had taken the Ice Heart Pavilion—a legendary sanctuary of profound ice, absolute purity, and strict emotional detachment—and transformed it completely into a sweaty, musk-scented, lust-filled den of subjugation. The air was thick with the smell of sex and the heavy, intoxicating aroma of despair.

However, amidst the weeping, the unwilling submission, and the broken pride of the Ice Heart women, there was a stark, jarring contrast.

Moving through the sea of terrified captives were two women who exhibited a completely different demeanor. Hua Yimei and Chen Ying moved with an eager, willing, and almost fanatical submission. Their naked bodies were completely devoted to Wang Jian, and they navigated the chamber not as prisoners, but as his favored, loyal sluts.

Hua Yimei, the formerly dignified Sect Leader of the Fragrance Melody Sect, was currently crawling across the furs on her hands and knees. Her heavy, voluptuous breasts swayed with every movement, and her magnificent golden phoenix tattoo was proudly displayed across her bare back, a permanent brand of her loyalty to the demon who owned her.

She crawled right over the huddled, trembling bodies of two Ice Heart disciples, entirely ignoring their shocked, tearful gazes as she made her way to Wang Jian’s side.

“Master,” Hua Yimei murmured, her voice thick with genuine arousal and deep reverence.

She actively used her sexy, voluptuous body to cater to him. She pressed her massive breasts firmly against his muscular arm, intentionally rubbing her hard pink nipples against his dark skin. She looked down at his massive dick, still glistening from his recent use of the disciple, and without a single word of prompting, she leaned down, offering her warm, skilled mouth to thoroughly clean him.

She took him into her mouth eagerly, her tongue swirling around the thick shaft, her head bobbing in a rhythm born of extensive, devoted practice.

Wang Jian sighed in contentment, his hand reaching down to stroke Hua Yimei’s messy hair. He looked over at Bing Yun, who was watching the scene with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You see, Fairy Bing?” Wang Jian said, pointing lazily toward the woman currently servicing him. “This is how a proper slut serves her master. She anticipates my needs. She does not hesitate. She views my pleasure as her highest calling. You should take careful notes from Sect Leader Hua.”

Bing Yun looked at Hua Yimei, her mind completely unable to process the reality before her. ’That is Hua Yimei… the Sect Leader of a righteous faction… a woman who commanded thousands. How can she sink to such depraved, filthy depths so willingly? She is performing acts that even the lowest brothel workers would balk at, and she is doing it with a smile… with genuine eagerness. What kind of demonic sorcery has he used to break her mind so completely?’

Across the room, standing guard near the grand double doors of the chamber, was Chen Ying.

She stood at perfect attention, her posture rigid and disciplined. Her sexy, athletic naked body was completely bare, adorned only with the silver bar piercings Wang Jian had forced through her modest breasts, and the silver chain connecting her navel to a leather collar around her neck. Her cold, dead eyes watched the huddled masses of the Ice Heart women with absolute detachment, scanning them constantly for any signs of rebellion or spiritual fluctuation.

She was a weapon, stripped of its scabbard and laid bare for her master’s use.

Wang Jian withdrew from Hua Yimei’s mouth with a satisfied groan. He looked across the room.

“Chen Ying. Come here.”

Chen Ying did not hesitate for a fraction of a millisecond. She walked briskly across the room, stepping over the weeping disciples with cold indifference. When she reached the edge of the bed, she immediately dropped to her knees on the floor.

She parted her thighs smoothly, offering her tight, wet pussy to him without a single trace of hesitation or shame.

Wang Jian slid off the edge of the bed and stood before her. He gripped her hips and entered her with a single, brutal thrust.

Chen Ying did not cry out in pain or protest. She took his heavy, punishing thrusts with a stoic, fanatical devotion. Her face remained a mask of cold discipline, but her inner walls clamped down on his massive dick with greedy, desperate strength. She absorbed his violence as a blessing.

Wang Jian used Hua Yimei and Chen Ying intentionally. He wanted to demonstrate to the broken women of the Ice Heart Palace the profound, intoxicating pleasure of true, unyielding submission. As he fucked his secret mistress, and as Hua Yimei crawled behind him to kiss his back, he didn’t just take; he gave.

He channeled his highly refined, powerful Stellar Qi directly into their bodies.

The reward was instantaneous and visually spectacular. The heavy, dark energy flooded their meridians, providing a rush of cultivation power that was infinitely more potent than months of solitary meditation.

Hua Yimei let out a loud, unabashed moan of genuine ecstasy. Her body flushed a deep, vibrant red, and the Golden Phoenix Flame she cultivated flared to life slightly, creating a halo of warm, golden light around her voluptuous form in direct response to Wang Jian’s dark touch. Chen Ying’s aura spiked sharply, her sword intent humming violently within her sealed core, fueled by his overwhelming Yang Qi.

The Ice Heart women watched in stunned silence. They could feel the immense, terrifying power radiating from the two loyal sluts. They could see the undeniable, euphoric pleasure painted across Hua Yimei’s face.

Wang Jian withdrew from Chen Ying, leaving her panting and heavily flushed on the floor. He turned back to the bed, grabbing Hua Yimei by the waist and hoisting her up.

He forced Bing Yun to sit up and watch closely.

“Look at her, Bing Yun,” Wang Jian commanded, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

He buried his face into Hua Yimei’s large breasts once more, motorboating them vigorously, squeezing the heavy flesh until his fingers left faint bruises. Hua Yimei threw her head back, her hands tangling in his dark hair, crying out in absolute, uninhibited delight, completely surrendered to her role as his sexual plaything.

“This is what true enthusiasm looks like,” Wang Jian stated, looking up at the horrified Ice Fairy. “This is the reward for obedience. Power. Pleasure. Purpose.”

He released Hua Yimei and turned to address the entire room of trembling, weeping women. His voice echoed with a chilling, undeniable truth.

“Look at the two women serving me,” Wang Jian declared, gesturing to Hua Yimei, who was still panting on the furs, and Chen Ying, who had resumed her stoic guard position despite her thoroughly used state. “Sect Leader Hua Yimei. Elder Chen Ying. They were once proud, untouchable cultivators just like you. They had their pride. They had their dignity. They thought they were above the primal desires of the flesh.”

He paced slowly along the edge of the massive bed, his dark aura suppressing the room.

“But I broke them,” Wang Jian said simply. “I tore down their illusions of grandeur. I stripped away their heavy robes of self-righteousness. And in doing so, I showed them their true place in the universe. Beneath me.”

Hua Yimei, her body still humming with the influx of his Stellar Qi, crawled over to where Elder Leng lay trembling. The former Sect Leader smiled down at the broken Ice Heart Elder, a smile that was beautiful, terrifying, and completely devoid of her former self.

“Resisting the Master only brings endless, agonizing pain, Sister Leng,” Hua Yimei whispered, her voice a seductive, venomous hiss. She reached out and gently stroked Elder Leng’s cheek, her touch unnervingly affectionate. “Your pride is a heavy, useless stone around your neck. Let it go. Submitting to him… offering your body entirely to his will… it brings unimaginable power. It brings a pleasure that your frozen heart has never even dreamed of. Join us. Become his cauldron. It is the only way to survive.”

Elder Leng squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from Hua Yimei’s touch, a fresh wave of tears soaking into the furs. The twisted, depraved logic coming from a woman she had once respected was almost too much to bear.

Near the door, Chen Ying spoke. Her voice was as cold and sharp as a newly forged blade.

“You are merely resources,” Chen Ying coldly informed the huddled, terrified disciples who were staring at her. “You are flesh, Qi, and Yin essence. Nothing more. The Master is generous to those who prove their worth. But if you do not learn to be useful sluts, if you continue to cling to your pathetic, ruined purity… you will be discarded. You will be broken until there is nothing left but an empty shell.”

The stark, jarring contrast between the eager, fanatical devotion of his loyal sluts and the broken, sobbing despair of the newly captured Ice Heart women amused Wang Jian greatly. It was a beautiful symphony of domination, a masterpiece he was painting with flesh and dark energy.

He spent the entirety of the morning indulging in this symphony. He alternated freely between fucking his willing, eager servants, rewarding their submission with surges of his powerful Qi, and ruthlessly humiliating his new, unwilling playthings, slapping their curvaceous buttocks, forcing his massive dick into their virgin pink pussies, and demonstrating his absolute, terrifying control over their bodies and their fates.

By the time the midday sun was completely obscured by the thick clouds of Azure Cloud City outside the illusionary array, Wang Jian had thoroughly exhausted his immediate physical desires.

He sat up in the center of the ruined bed. The playful, lustful demeanor vanished entirely, replaced by the cold, calculating aura of a supreme predator assessing his newly acquired herd.

He flared his Stellar Demonic Qi outward. It wasn’t the gentle, lingering touch from earlier; it was the heavy, suffocating, bone-crushing pressure of his full Core Formation authority. It expanded to cover the entire master chamber, pressing down upon the twenty-three naked, trembling women like a physical manifestation of gravity.

The weeping instantly ceased, replaced by the sound of choked, terrified gasps as the women struggled to breathe under the immense weight of his spiritual power.

Wang Jian looked down at them. They were scattered across the furs and the carpets, their very fair skin covered in sweat, his dried essence, and the vivid red marks of his dominance. They were a shattered portrait of everything the Ice Heart Palace claimed to be.

“Listen closely,” Wang Jian commanded, his voice cold, flat, and entirely devoid of any mercy or compromise. The sound cut through the silence like a scythe.

Every eye in the room, from the lowest Foundation Establishment disciple to the esteemed Fairy Bing Yun, locked onto his dark figure.

“I have allowed you your tears. I have allowed you your despair. But the time for mourning your shattered illusions is over,” Wang Jian declared. “It is entirely, completely impossible for any of you to escape my grasp.”

He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling.

“The Seven-Star Obscurity Array that envelops this pavilion is a masterpiece of deception. It completely isolates this space from the outside world. To the rest of Azure Cloud City, to the City Lord, to the countless cultivators walking the streets just beyond those walls… you are all still quietly meditating inside. There is no distress signal. There will be no rescue party.”

He let the absolute reality of their isolation sink in, watching the last, desperate flickers of hope extinguish in their pale blue eyes.

“And even if the array were to fall,” Wang Jian sneered, a cruel, mocking smile twisting his lips, “what would you do? Your dantians are sealed by my Stellar Qi. You cannot summon a single spark of energy. You are weaker than mortal peasants. You could not even open the heavy spirit-wood doors of this chamber, let alone fight your way out of the city.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes sweeping over the sea of naked, terrified flesh.

“Your sect will not discover what has happened to you in a short period,” Wang Jian continued, turning the knife in their psychological wounds. “By the time they realize their Holy Maiden’s master and her elite vanguard are missing, I will be long gone. And you will be entirely mine.”

He explicitly laid out the only two paths that existed in their new, nightmarish reality.

“Your only path forward is to submit to me honestly. To accept your new reality. You will become my obedient cultivation cauldrons. You will become my sex slaves. You will exist solely to serve my needs, to warm my bed, and to fuel my ascent to the peak of this universe.”

Bing Yun, sitting slumped among the furs, bit her lower lip so hard that a drop of bright crimson blood welled up, trailing down her chin. Her pride, centuries old and hard as profound ice, was warring violently with the crushing, inescapable, suffocating reality of their situation. ’Submit… he wants us to willingly become his whores. I cannot… I would rather die…’

But Wang Jian anticipated her thoughts. He knew how to break the final pillar of resistance.

“If you resist,” Wang Jian threatened, his voice dropping to a dark, ominous whisper that sent chills down their spines, “I will simply strip you of all thought. I will wipe your minds until you are nothing but drooling, empty vessels. I will keep you sealed deep within the underground dungeons of the Fragrance Melody Sect’s island. I will keep all news about you entirely sealed from the world. You will never see the sun again. I will use you only as a slutty sex toilet, a piece of meat to be pounded and discarded in the dark until your bodies finally give out.”

The horrific imagery of that fate hung heavily in the room. A life of endless, mindless rape in a dark cell, forgotten by the world, their glorious legacy reduced to absolute filth.

“But,” Wang Jian said, his tone lightening slightly, offering the poisoned carrot to balance the terrifying stick. “If you serve me well… if you offer your bodies willingly… if you learn to beg for my touch as Hua Yimei does…”

He paused, letting the silence build, ensuring he had their absolute, undivided attention.

“I may let you become stronger. I may unseal portions of your cultivation, allowing you to grow as my favored sluts. But for that…” Wang Jian grinned, a wide, predatory expression that chilled them to the bone. “…I need you to properly work for me. I need you to help me conquer and taste the beauties of your Ice Heart Palace entirely. You will be my vanguard when I come to claim the rest of your sisters.”

The sheer audacity of his demand was staggering. He didn’t just want their bodies; he wanted to turn them into the very instruments of their own sect’s destruction.

“And before any of you think of martyrdom,” Wang Jian added, delivering the final, crushing blow to their psyches. He gestured casually to the stained furs beneath him and the exhausted bodies of the disciples. “Remember what happened last night. I have already extracted your Primal Yin. Your revered purity is gone forever. You are spoiled goods in the eyes of your righteous path. You have absolutely nothing left to protect.”

That single, undeniable truth was the breaking point.

For the Ice Heart Palace, a woman’s purity was her foundation, her honor, and the core of her cultivation. It had been violently stolen from every single woman in the room. They were, according to their own strict doctrines, ruined beyond salvation.

Several of the younger Foundation Establishment disciples broke down completely. They buried their faces in their hands, their slender shoulders shaking with violent, uncontrollable sobs. The heavy weight of his flawless, brutal logic, combined with the visceral reality of their ruined purity, entirely shattered their wills. They were broken.

On the bed, Elder Han looked away from Wang Jian. A dead, completely empty look settled into her eyes. The rigid discipline she had maintained for over a century finally snapped like a fragile icicle under a heavy boot. She realized the absolute futility of resistance. There was no escape. There was no rescue. There was only the Master.

Wang Jian stood up from the bed, his tall, muscular, naked form towering over the room. He walked to the edge of the furs, looking down at the carpet where the disciples were huddled.

“I am a generous master,” Wang Jian stated, his voice ringing with absolute finality. “But I demand acknowledgment. Crawl to me. All of you. Kiss my feet as a sign of your new submission. Acknowledge your new Lord.”

He stood perfectly still, waiting.

For a long, agonizing moment, no one moved. The only sounds were the muffled sobs of the broken girls.

Then, driven by profound fear, absolute despair, and the lingering, insidious effects of the demonic Qi still pulsing in their veins, the first disciple moved.

It was Lan’er. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. Her very fair skin was marred by the red handprints of his previous strikes. She lowered her head and began to crawl across the thick woven carpets. Her movement was slow, agonizingly humiliating. Her large, voluptuous breasts hung heavy, dragging slightly against the soft fabric of the floor covering.

She reached the edge of the bed. She looked up at Wang Jian’s dark, imposing figure, tears streaming from her vacant eyes. She lowered her head completely and pressed her soft, trembling lips against the top of his bare foot.

“Master,” Lan’er whispered, her voice completely broken.

The dam had broken.

One by one, the other Foundation Establishment disciples followed. They formed a pathetic, degrading procession of naked, beautiful flesh, crawling across the floor, their pride abandoned, their wills crushed. They gathered at the edge of the bed, pressing their lips to his feet, their tears wetting his skin, surrendering themselves entirely to their nightmare.

Elder Han was the next to move. She slid off the bed, her movements jerky and mechanical. She dropped to her knees on the floor, crawling the short distance to his side, and kissed his foot with dead, empty eyes.

Elder Leng sobbed hysterically, shaking her head in denial, but the oppressive weight of his aura and the absolute hopelessness of her situation forced her body to move. She crawled over the furs, her massive breasts swaying, and submitted, pressing her lips to his skin, surrendering her dignity forever.

Finally, only one woman remained.

Bing Yun sat in the center of the ruined bed. She was trembling violently, her entire body shaking with a mixture of profound, unadulterated rage, crippling self-loathing, and the inescapable terror of her reality. She looked at her disciples, kneeling like dogs at the feet of a demonic beast. She looked at her fellow elders, their pride extinguished.

She looked at Wang Jian. His dark, starlit eyes were locked onto hers, waiting. He would not force her. He needed her to break herself.

Bing Yun closed her eyes. A single, solitary tear slipped down her pale cheek, falling onto the snow-fox furs, carrying the last remnant of the Ice Fairy’s soul.

Slowly, agonizingly, she shifted her position. She moved onto her hands and knees. Every movement felt like a betrayal of her ancestors, a dagger into her own heart. But she moved.

She crawled across the massive bed, her beautiful, very fair body on full display, her curvaceous buttocks shifting with every humiliating inch. She reached the edge of the bed where Wang Jian stood.

She looked up at him one last time. There was no hatred left in her eyes, only a profound, endless abyss of defeat.

Bing Yun lowered her head. Her silver hair cascaded over his dark feet as she pressed her soft lips against his skin.

“I submit, Master,” Bing Yun whispered, her voice a hollow echo of the proud woman she had once been.

Wang Jian looked down at the twenty-three beautiful, naked women kneeling at his feet, their spirits entirely crushed, their bodies surrendered to his will. He smiled, a dark, victorious expression that promised endless degradation.

He had formally shattered the Ice Heart Palace, and his hunt in Azure Cloud City had only just begun.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep