Read The Almighty Dominance Novel (Alexander Leonhart and Sophia Lancaster) by Sunshine Updated 2025 -26 - The Almighty Dominance Chapter 598

The Almighty Dominance Chapter 598

One of the elders from Thousand Herbs Peak narrowed his eyes at Alex, a deep frown cutting across his face.

“Who is contestant number 777?” he demanded sharply.

The staff member beside him hurriedly checked the records, his hands trembling slightly. “He’s registered under the name Jun Jiu.”

The elder’s expression darkened instantly, his gaze turning cold—hostile.

“So… you’re Jun Jiu.”

A memory surfaced.

Three months ago.

His nephew, Han Fei—dead.

Killed because of this man.

The one who carried out the execution had been a Peak Leader, someone far above him.

He hadn’t been able to act then.

So he waited.

Waited for the right moment.

Waited to strike back.

His eyes flicked toward the central viewing platform, where the Peak Leader sat, calmly observing the matches.

“Your time is running out,” the elder muttered under his breath, a thin, dangerous smile forming.

Not just the Peak Leader.

The Wudang Sect Master as well.

He had already made contact with the Murim Alliance. The pieces were in motion. It wouldn’t be long before Wudang fell under their control.

For that, he could be patient.

But this—

This outer disciple?

The one responsible for Han Fei’s death?

That was different.

That didn’t require patience.

The elder rose from his seat.

And in the next instant—

He was gone.

A blur.

Then he landed directly in Alex’s arena.

At that moment, Alex’s opponent was already on his knees, head bowed in surrender.

The arena fell silent.

The elder stepped forward, his presence crashing down like a storm.

“You. Number 777.” His voice cut like a blade. “What kind of black magic are you using?”

His eyes locked onto Alex, suspicion burning within them—along with something darker.

Among cultivators, black magic was forbidden.

A taboo.

It meant sacrifice. Blood. Pacts with demons.

An accusation like that—

Was a death sentence.

Alex met his gaze calmly, though he could feel the hostility radiating from him.

“I’m not using any magic,” he said evenly.

The elder’s eyes narrowed.

“Then what? You bribed them?” he snapped. “Forced them to kneel so you could win? You dare violate the sacred laws of this tournament?”

His aura flared, heavy and suffocating.

“You will be punished.”

Alex exhaled slowly, irritation flashing across his face.

“…And who are you supposed to be?”

“I am Elder Han!” the man barked, his voice thundering across the arena. “How dare you not recognize your elder? I hereby sentence you to imprisonment for disrupting this match!”

“I’ve fought every match fairly,” Alex replied. “On what grounds are you accusing me?”

Elder Han didn’t bother answering.

He snapped his fingers.

A sharp metallic hum sliced through the air as his sword shot upward, hovering beside him like a living thing, its blade gleaming with lethal intent.

“You still refuse to submit?” his voice dropped, cold and merciless. “Then I’ll carve your legs off where you stand—leave you screaming until you learn what it means to kneel.”

His gaze hardened, filled with cruel satisfaction.

“And when you can’t even crawl… I’ll drag what’s left of you to prison like a broken animal.”

For a moment, the arena held its breath.

Then—

Alex laughed.

Not loudly.

But clearly.

And it carried.

“So…” Alex tilted his head slightly, looking at him with open disdain. “Even the Peak Lords haven’t said a word, but you’re already jumping in to show off.”

A faint smirk touched his lips.

“Aren’t you worried I might slap you across the face in front of everyone here?”

Shock rippled through the crowd.

Alex’s gaze sharpened.

“But since you’re so eager to take my legs…” his voice turned colder, edged with steel, “it’s only fair I take yours instead.”

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

Elder Han froze.

The spectators froze.

Every disciple stared in disbelief.

An outer disciple… talking to an elder like this?

In Wudang, outer disciples were nothing.

When an elder spoke, they obeyed.

If an elder ordered prison—they went.

If an elder wanted their legs—

They gave them.

No one resisted.

No one dared.

And Elder Han… was notorious.

He had crippled disciples for far less.

“You insignificant outer disciple,” Elder Han said slowly, his voice sinking into something dark and dangerous. “You’ve barely stepped into Qi Condensation… and you dare speak to me like this?”

His sword shifted beside him, humming with killing intent.

“Kneel,” he said. “Cut off your own legs. Offer them to me.”

A cruel smile curled on his lips.

“Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Inside, he was already satisfied.

Now he had justification.

A reason to kill Alex.

To avenge Han Fei.

But Alex didn’t kneel.

He stepped forward instead.

Calm.

Unafraid.

“You’re weak,” Alex said simply.

“If you can’t even understand what I’m doing, then you have no right to challenge me.”

“How arrogant!” Elder Han roared, stepping forward, his sword gliding at his side like a predator ready to strike.

From the main platform—

Li Qingxue shot to her feet, her heart tightening as she looked toward the arena, ready to intervene.

“Miss Li Qingxue.”

The Peak Lord’s calm voice stopped her.

“What Jun Jiu said is correct,” he continued, his tone steady, almost indifferent. “If Elder Han can’t see what Alex is doing… then it only proves his own weakness.”

Li Qingxue hesitated, eyes still locked on the arena.

“But… are you sure nothing will happen to him?” she asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice.

The Peak Lord didn’t answer immediately.

He watched Alex.

Carefully.

Intently.

“I wasn’t sure before,” he said at last.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“But now… I am.”

Across the grounds, fights began to slow.

Then stop.

Disciples turned.

Eyes shifted.

Every gaze locked onto a single stage.

Elder Han.

Alex.

The outer disciples held their breath.

There was no way Alex could fight an elder.

No way—

And yet—

Elder Han suddenly froze.

His body locked in place.

His sword trembled—

Then dropped.

Clang.

The sound rang out, unnaturally loud.

Elder Han’s eyes widened.

Shock.

Pure, unfiltered shock.

He tried to move.

Nothing.

Not a finger.

Not a step.

It was as if an invisible force had seized control of his body.

And then—

Alex smiled.

A small, almost amused smile.

He raised his hand.

Snapped his fingers.

“Kneel.”

The word was soft.

But absolute.

Elder Han’s legs buckled instantly.

Both knees slammed into the ground.

Hard.

A collective gasp swept through the arena.

Elder Han’s face twisted in disbelief.

“I—what—”

He couldn’t even finish.

His body… wouldn’t obey.

Alex stepped forward, unhurried, as if none of this surprised him.

“I remember,” Alex said calmly, “you said you were going to cut off my legs.”

He bent down and picked up the fallen sword.

The blade gleamed faintly in his hand.

“So…” he tilted his head slightly, “how about I take yours instead?”

For a brief moment, his eyes flicked upward—

Toward the main platform.

Toward Li Qingxue.

Toward the Peak Lord.

Would they stop him?

Or let it happen?

“You…” Elder Han’s voice trembled now, stripped of all arrogance. “What did you do to me?”

His face had gone pale.

Cold sweat gathered at his temples.

He couldn’t understand it.

Couldn’t feel his strength.

Couldn’t control his own body.

Panic crept in.

“Everyone!” he shouted suddenly, desperation breaking through. “This Jun Jiu is using black magic! Something dangerous—kill him!”

The accusation rang across the arena.

Instantly, every elder and Peak Lord turned toward Alex.

Their gazes pressed down on him.

Heavy.

Judging.

But Alex didn’t flinch.

Didn’t step back.

He simply looked toward the Peak Lord and gave a slight bow.

“Peak Lord,” he said calmly, “do you believe I’m using black magic?”

Silence.

Then—

The Peak Lord laughed.

“What black magic?” he said, amusement clear in his voice.

“You’re compressing air into microscopic ice needles… and firing them into pressure points.”

His gaze dropped to Elder Han’s knees.

“Especially the joints.”

“Shutting down movement… forcing them to kneel.”

Shock exploded through the arena.

“Microscopic ice needles?”

“That would make them invisible…”

“But can something like that even hit acupuncture points?”

“It can,” someone muttered. “If it hits precisely, it paralyzes—and then melts. No trace left behind.”

Understanding spread like wildfire.

“So that’s his secret…”

“A hidden technique…”

Alex didn’t react.

But he knew—

The Peak Lord had seen through everything.

Slowly, he opened his palm.

The air around him shifted.

Subtle.

Almost invisible.

Moisture gathered from the atmosphere, drawn together by an unseen force. Tiny droplets condensed—

Then sharpened.

Forming dozens—no, hundreds—of hair-thin ice needles.

They hovered around him, faintly glinting.

Most people couldn’t even see them unless they focused.

And at full speed—

They would be completely invisible.

Untraceable.

Unavoidable.

Alex lifted his gaze to the main platform.

“So, Peak Lord,” he said evenly, “can I take both of this elder’s legs?”

“No.”

The answer came immediately.

“You are a disciple. He is an elder,” the Peak Lord said calmly. “There are boundaries you cannot cross. If Elder Han has made a mistake, the disciplinary hall will handle it.”

Alex’s expression didn’t change.

“So I can’t touch him?” he asked.

“You cannot,” the Peak Lord replied. “But you’ve already made him kneel.”

“That should be enough.”

“Then release me!” Elder Han roared, fury and humiliation flooding his voice. “You have no right to do this!”

Alex turned slowly, looking down at him.

“Really?”

He snapped his fingers.

Ten nearly invisible ice needles formed instantly.

Before anyone could react—

They shot forward, piercing into Elder Han’s head.

“What did you do?!” Elder Han gasped, his body jerking as a freezing sensation spread through his temples, his neck—deep into unseen points.

The cold spread fast.

Sharp.

Precise.

Terrifying.

Alex stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Elder Han could hear.

“What did I do?” he murmured.

“Since I can’t take your legs…”

A faint smile touched his lips.

“I’ll take your life instead.”

He leaned in slightly.

“I don’t keep enemies.”