Read The Almighty Dominance Novel (Alexander Leonhart and Sophia Lancaster) by Sunshine Updated 2025 -26 - The Almighty Dominance Chapter 597

The past two days had been exhausting.

From the outside, having a hundred followers looked like power—like influence, control.

The truth?

It was a constant, relentless headache.

Alex barely had a moment to breathe. Every hour was spent organizing—assigning roles, dividing responsibilities, deciding who did what and who answered to whom. Without structure, everything would collapse into chaos.

Only by forcing order onto the madness could it function… and maybe—just maybe—become something profitable.

Alex sat atop a large boulder, the wind brushing lightly against his robes. Below him, more than a hundred disciples stood in silence, their eyes fixed on him.

“Remember this,” Alex said, his voice carrying easily across the crowd. “Before I left, I prepared three manuals.”

He raised a hand, counting them off.

“One—for managing the herb garden.”

“Two—for cultivation.”

“Three—for basic martial arts.”

A brief pause.

“If you study them properly… you’ll see results within a year.”

A ripple of anticipation passed through the crowd.

What they didn’t know—

Gaia had already compiled and rewritten everything.

Drawing on knowledge from Prussia and Estoria, the AI had refined the original teachings into something sharper. More efficient. More powerful.

These weren’t ordinary manuals anymore.

They were an upgrade.

“I never expected you to be a teacher.”

The voice was soft.

Beautiful.

And yet—it cut through the air like a blade.

Every head snapped upward.

There—floating in the sky as if held aloft by the heavens—was a woman in flowing white.

Cold.

Untouchable.

The Pure Snow Sword Maiden… Li Qingxue.

In an instant, all hundred disciples dropped to one knee.

“Outer disciples greet Core Disciple—Pure Snow Sword Maiden, Li Qingxue!”

Their voices echoed in unison.

She gave a small, indifferent nod.

Then, with a flick of her wrist—

Alex felt the air shift.

A force wrapped around him, lifting him effortlessly from the boulder. In the next breath, he was at her side, standing in open sky as if gravity had simply… let go.

He let out a quiet sigh.

“I didn’t know I could teach either,” Alex admitted, glancing at her. “But the peak leaders sent thirty people to apologize. Then those thirty brought their friends… and their families…”

He gestured toward the crowd below.

“And now they’re all here.”

Li Qingxue said nothing.

She simply turned—

And the world moved with her.

They shot across the sky, wind roaring past as Thousand Herbs Peak rose beneath them.

At the summit, a massive arena awaited.

Hundreds of outer disciples had already gathered.

Alex’s gaze swept across them.

More people.

More pressure.

“Remember,” Li Qingxue said at last. “You need to rank within the top ten among the Thousand Peaks’ outer disciples.”

“Only then can you become an inner disciple.”

“Can I choose to stay an outer disciple?” Alex asked.

His tone was neutral, but the meaning was clear.

He had no interest in stepping into the inner circle—where monsters wore human skin.

Li Qingxue didn’t hesitate.

“You can choose death,” she said coldly.

Then—

She waved her hand.

The world flipped.

Alex was hurled from the sky like a stone. Wind screamed past his ears as the ground rushed up to meet him. At the last second, his body reacted—lightness technique activating, energy surging through his limbs.

He twisted midair—

Landed hard—

Skidded across the ground before coming to a stop.

Alive.

Barely.

Alex exhaled slowly, dust clinging to his clothes.

You damn woman… he sneered inwardly, eyes dark. Just wait. When I regain my strength—when I reach my peak again—I’ll put you in your place.

Outwardly, he said nothing.

He turned and walked toward the registration area.

A long line had already formed.

Hundreds of outer disciples, all waiting for the same thing—

A chance to rise.

A chance to prove themselves.

A chance to become something more.

Alex stepped into line without a word.

This year, 1,035 outer disciples from Thousand Herbs Peak alone were competing for the number one rank.

And that was just one peak.

Later, the top ten from each peak across the entire Wudang Sect would face off, battling for the true ranking among all outer disciples.

A brutal system.

Efficient.

Alex glanced at the wooden plate in his hand and let out a quiet sigh.

All he had ever wanted… was a peaceful life.

Instead—

Fate… no.

Li Qingxue had dragged him straight into this.

A system designed to crush the weak and elevate only the absolute best.

A complete waste of time.

To reach rank one, he would need to win ten consecutive matches.

Ten.

He rolled his shoulders slightly.

This is going to take a while.

His eyes dropped to the number carved into his wooden plate.

The moment he infused a thread of inner energy into it, the plate vibrated—

Then emitted a faint glow.

A mechanical voice echoed from within:

“Please proceed to Arena Eleven.”

Alex clicked his tongue and started walking.

The deeper he went, the louder it became.

Shouts.

Cheers.

Clashing energy.

The entire tournament grounds were in chaos—twenty arenas running simultaneously, each packed with fighters and spectators.

A storm of ambition and violence.

Finding Arena Eleven wasn’t difficult.

He arrived just as two disciples were still fighting on the platform—energy colliding, movements sharp and ruthless.

Without hesitation, Alex stepped forward and placed his wooden plate on the registration table.

The staff member glanced at it, checked the inscription, then nodded.

“You’ll be up after three matches,” he said quickly. “Stay close. When your number is called—step in immediately.”

Alex gave a slight nod and stepped aside.

His gaze lifted to the arena.

Two figures clashed—fists, blades, techniques—everything unleashed without restraint.

No hesitation.

No mercy.

Alex watched in silence.

Waiting.

He yawned.

Watching outer disciples at the fifth to ninth level of Qi Condensation didn’t interest him. Their movements were slow, their techniques predictable. To him, it felt like watching children swing wooden swords.

Still… he didn’t look away.

Gaia, record everything, he instructed silently.

Even if it bored him, information still mattered.

Fight after fight passed.

Bodies hit the ground. Blood stained the stone. Some fought desperately, clawing for victory. Others surrendered the moment they sensed the gap.

Then—

The referee’s voice rang out.

“Number 777… versus Number 650.”

Alex stepped forward.

The moment he climbed onto the platform, the smell hit him—iron and sweat. The stone beneath his feet was streaked with blood, dark patches marking where others had fallen.

Across from him stood a large man—broad shoulders, thick arms, built on brute force.

The man cracked his neck and smirked.

“If you surrender now,” he said, eyeing Alex, “I won’t hurt you.”

The referee raised his hand.

“Begin.”

Alex met his gaze, completely calm.

“If you kneel now,” he said flatly, “I won’t hurt you.”

“You—!”

The man’s anger flared—

And then—

His body moved.

Without warning, without control—

He dropped to his knees.

A dull thud echoed across the arena.

Silence.

The referee blinked.

The crowd froze.

“…What the hell?” someone muttered.

The big man stared at his own hands, his legs, confusion flooding his face.

He hadn’t meant to kneel.

He didn’t know why he had.

The referee recovered quickly.

“Number 777 wins.”

“Wait—I didn’t lose!” Number 650 shouted, still kneeling. “I didn’t—!”

“You knelt,” the referee cut in coldly. “That’s surrender. Get off the stage.”

The man remained there for a moment longer, stunned.

Why… did I kneel?

It made no sense.

None at all.

Alex didn’t even look back.

He had already stepped down, retrieving his wooden plate and sending another thread of energy into it.

It vibrated.

“Please proceed to Arena Ten.”

He clicked his tongue and moved on.

Arena Ten.

He placed his wooden plate on the table.

The staff member checked it, then slotted it into the winners’ bracket.

“You’ll be up after five matches.”

Alex nodded and stepped aside.

More waiting.

More watching.

More boredom.

Some fights didn’t even last ten seconds. Weaker disciples would take one look at their opponent, sense the gap—

And surrender immediately.

Not everyone was aiming for the top.

Some just wanted to survive long enough to secure a better rank.

Top 500.

Top 400.

Each step upward meant better monthly resources—more pills, more herbs, more opportunities.

Ambition came in different forms.

Not everyone wanted glory.

Some just wanted a slightly better life.

By the time Alex reached his ninth match—

He stepped forward and faced his next opponent.

And said the same words.

“If you kneel… I’ll let you surrender.”

“The hell I’m kneeling to you,” the disciple snapped.

A heartbeat later—

His legs gave out.

He dropped.

Silence slammed over the arena.

Third match.

“If you kneel, I’ll let you surrender.”

Thud.

Fourth match.

Same words.

Same result.

It didn’t matter who stood across from him.

Strong. Weak. Confident. Arrogant.

Every single one of them—

Kneeled.

Whether they wanted to or not.

At first, it was confusion.

Then whispers.

Then—

Shock.

“What… is this?” someone muttered.

“No way… that was Senior Brother Yun Feng. How did he kneel without even fighting?”

“I heard everyone who faces him ends up on their knees.”

“Did anyone figure it out?”

“They asked the earlier opponents,” someone said uneasily. “They all said the same thing… their legs just gave out.”

A pause.

“Do you think it’s some kind of forbidden technique?”

“I don’t know… but the elders and referees haven’t stopped it.”

That made it worse.

If the officials allowed it—

Then whatever this was… it wasn’t against the rules.

It was just… terrifying.

By the fifth round, the tournament had narrowed to around sixty participants.

Now, every match mattered.

The difference between rank sixty and fifty could change someone’s future.

A large man stepped forward, jaw tight.

“Referee,” he said loudly, “even if I kneel, I request permission to continue the fight. Kneeling shouldn’t count as surrender.”

He couldn’t afford to lose here.

Not now.

The referee frowned slightly… then nodded.

“…Fight.”

Alex sighed.

Stubborn.

The man charged forward—

And instantly—

Dropped.

His knees slammed into the ground.

“I’m not surrendering!” he shouted, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

But something was wrong.

His voice wavered.

His body trembled.

Then—

As if pulled by invisible strings—

He raised both hands.

And slowly… bowed.

Forehead lowering to the ground before Alex.

Complete submission.

The arena fell dead silent.

No one breathed.

No one moved.

Alex stepped forward calmly.

Placed his foot on the man’s head.

Then looked at the referee.

“Does this count as surrender?”

No one answered.

Because no one had ever seen anything like this.

All around them, disciples stared in disbelief.

This wasn’t a fight.

This wasn’t dominance.

It was something else entirely.

One by one—

People weren’t just losing to Number 777.

They were kneeling to him.

Bowing to him.