Read The Almighty Dominance Novel (Alexander Leonhart and Sophia Lancaster) by Sunshine Updated 2025 -26 - The Almighty Dominance Chapter 616

The Almighty Dominance Chapter 616

The illusionary realm shimmered and dissolved around Alex like mist burned away by the morning sun.

In its place stretched a vast, rolling hillside crowned with ancient trees. A crystal-clear river wound lazily through the valley below, bordered by forests of emerald pines and flowering maples whispering softly in the breeze.

Golden sunlight spilled across the grass in scattered patches. The air carried the crisp scent of pine resin and wildflowers.

An old man stood beside the river.

Tall and straight-backed, he wore simple gray robes that moved with the wind as naturally as flowing water. His silver hair was tied neatly at the nape of his neck.

Even in old age, he was strikingly handsome.

High cheekbones. Warm brown eyes filled with quiet amusement. A smile touched by the effortless charm of someone who had once captivated every room he entered.

Alex approached slowly.

The old man tilted his head toward the sky, watching a lone hawk circle high overhead.

“I don’t know how many centuries have passed since someone last mastered Wudang’s Heaven Sword Art,” he said quietly.

His voice carried the weight of forgotten ages.

Then he looked at Alex.

“How long has it been since the Wudang Sect was founded?”

Alex hesitated.

“A few thousand years ago, I think.”

The old man let out a soft laugh, touched not by bitterness, but wonder.

“Thousands of years…”

He shook his head gently, staring out over the flowing river as though he could see countless lost eras drifting away with the current.

“Time truly slips away like water.”

“Are we going to fight?” Alex asked.

The old man’s smile widened slightly.

“Perhaps later. But not today.”

“You also don’t need to worry about time outside.”

He gestured casually toward the sky.

“One day in your world equals a hundred days here. We have plenty of time.”

Then he clapped once.

The sharp sound echoed across the hill.

Three figures stepped out from behind a grove of ancient trees, each dressed in the unmistakable robes of different sects.

Gaia’s calm voice immediately surfaced inside Alex’s mind, feeding him names and histories in an instant.

“Mount Hua. Emei. Qingcheng.”

Alex spoke the names aloud.

“They’re disciples from the Mount Hua Sect, the Emei Sect, and the Qingcheng Sect.”

“You’re correct,” the old man replied, satisfaction flickering across his face.

“In my era, I mastered every technique those sects possessed. If they refused to teach me willingly, I simply took what I wanted.”

He chuckled softly.

“I know their sword arts better than many of their own disciples ever did. I drank tea and traded stories with their sect leaders back when they still walked this world.”

Then his gaze sharpened.

“Once someone claims first rank on any peak within Wudang, the hidden secrets of the Five Great Clans and Nine Great Sects are opened to them.”

Alex felt the words hit him like a stone dropped into still water.

“What?”

The old man nodded toward the distant horizon.

“Conquer the Fist Peak and claim first place there, and you will inherit the complete fist arts and cultivation methods of Shaolin Temple—the very techniques they guarded more fiercely than their own lives.”

“You’ll also gain access to the treasures of the other great sects. The Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms. The Drunken Fist. Arts that once shook the martial world.”

Alex’s pulse quickened.

Then realization struck him like lightning.

“I already ranked first on Thousand Herbs Peak…”

He looked at the old man, disbelief tightening his voice.

“Does that mean… I already inherited something?”

The old man smiled knowingly.

“Then you should already possess the Tang Clan’s poison arts.”

The realization crashed over Alex instantly.

The final records hidden within Thousand Herbs Peak had never truly been about medicine.

They were poison manuals.

Every page had contained deadly formulas disguised beneath medical theory, hidden in plain sight.

No wonder those forbidden arts had come to him so naturally during his battle against the Discipline Department disciples.

The knowledge had already been planted inside him, waiting patiently to awaken.

“What do you want me to do?” Alex asked.

The old man’s smile deepened, warm yet commanding.

“You will learn every sword art.”

“I will personally guide you.”

Alex frowned slightly as the sheer scale of the task settled over him.

“Do I really need to master all of them?”

The old man nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back toward the river.

“That is the exact question I once asked myself.”

“After creating the Seven Moon Sword Art, and later the Seven Suns, I forged the Heaven Sword Art. It made me undefeatable beneath the heavens.”

“But even then, I knew something greater still existed beyond it.”

“So I traveled through countless sects and masters, absorbing the essence of every sword style I encountered until I finally discovered what I had spent my entire life searching for.”

“And what was it?” Alex asked quietly.

A faint fire burned behind the old man’s calm smile.

With slow, flowing grace, he raised his hands and began moving through the circular motions of Taiji.

“It will become the Limitless Sword Art.”

“The moment when every sword technique returns to its original truth.”

“Yin and yang. Light and darkness. Life and death.”

As he spoke, two swords materialized in his hands.

One was black as endless night.

The other shone pure white.

Alex watched in silence as the old man demonstrated.

Wherever the black blade passed, the grass withered instantly. Flowers shriveled into ash, drained of every trace of life.

Then the white sword swept through the air.

Fresh grass erupted from the earth.

Flowers bloomed in vivid color.

Life itself surged forward as though spring had answered his call.

“You will learn these arts,” the old man said calmly, carrying the authority of someone who had already reached the end of the path.

“And you will help me perfect the Limitless Sword Art.”

“Only then will you be allowed to leave this illusionary realm.”

Respect surged through Alex like a breaking tide.

He clasped his hands together and bowed deeply, lowering himself until his forehead nearly touched the grass.

“This disciple will follow Master’s teachings.”

“Good.”

The old man nodded with quiet satisfaction.

“Then begin with the Mount Hua disciple.”

At his command, the disciple from the Mount Hua Sect stepped forward.

He raised his sword and executed a simple but elegant opening stance.

“This is the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique,” he announced clearly.

Then he moved.

His sword traced graceful arcs through the air like blossoms swept through a spring storm.

Each movement flowed seamlessly into the next.

A rising slash scattered phantom petals of light.

A spinning parry bloomed into three consecutive thrusts.

A low sweeping strike rooted itself like a tree before exploding upward with sudden force.

The blade sang softly through the wind, leaving faint pink trails that drifted like falling flowers before fading away.

Alex watched every detail without blinking.

The moment the demonstration ended, Gaia’s calm synthetic voice echoed inside his mind.

“Full-spectrum analysis initiated.”

“I am projecting a real-time visual overlay directly into your visual cortex. Follow the blue holographic model precisely. Every angle, movement, and micro-adjustment will be optimized continuously.”

A translucent blue figure appeared in Alex’s vision like an augmented reality projection visible only to him.

The holographic swordsman stood in the exact same stance as the Mount Hua disciple, every movement outlined in luminous detail.

The figure began repeating the opening forms slowly.

“Now it is your turn,” the old man said.

Alex gripped his sword.

The instant his fingers tightened around the hilt, the holographic guide moved.

Alex followed step by step.

When his elbow dipped slightly too low, the overlay pulsed brighter, drawing his attention toward the mistake until he corrected it naturally.

When his wrist stiffened, the guide slowed and replayed the precise motion in glowing detail.

“Synchronize breathing with the pivot… now,” Gaia whispered.

The hologram demonstrated the perfect inhale timed exactly with the strike.

Within a single hour, Alex could already perform the entire Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique flawlessly from beginning to end.

The blue guide no longer felt separate from him.

It had become an extension of his own body—a silent teacher that never tired, never criticized, and never stopped refining him.

The old man stood quietly by the riverbank with folded arms, one eyebrow slightly raised in surprise.

But he said nothing.

That was only the beginning.

As Alex continued practicing, the old man suddenly began reciting the secret cultivation method of the Mount Hua Sect itself.

He guided Alex through the precise circulation paths of inner force meant specifically for Mount Hua swordsmanship—a closely guarded inheritance normally passed down only to core disciples.

Day after day passed within the illusionary realm.

By the fiftieth day, the entire sword canon of the Mount Hua Sect—dozens of forms and hundreds of variations—had become as natural to Alex as breathing itself.

The old man laughed heartily.

“Excellent!”

“You now wield Mount Hua’s sword arts better than many of their own masters.”

Then he gestured toward the woman from the Emei Sect.

She stepped forward with calm dignity.

Her white robes were trimmed in pale green, and silver threads shimmered through her braided black hair beneath the sunlight.

She drew a slender sword whose edge gleamed like moonlight on fresh snow.

“This,” she said softly, though her voice carried clearly across the hillside, “is the Emei Lotus Heart Sword Art.”

“It is guided from within—not by force.”

“Watch carefully.”

Another fifty days passed.

Then the old man clapped once more.

The disciple from the Qingcheng Sect stepped forward.

“This,” he declared calmly, “is the Qingcheng Windcleaver Sword Technique.”