Chapter 292: Chapter 292 Rare
The gatekeeper’s pupils constricted to the size of pinpricks.
A single drop of sweat slid down the side of his face.
His chest tightened as though a mountain had settled on it, and his fingers gripped the token with reverence and fear.
The whispers of the crowd dimmed in his ears, drowned out by the pounding of his own heartbeat.
And then—
Bang!
The Gatekeeper collapsed to one knee with such force that the ground beneath him cracked, the sharp sound startling those closest into silence.
The giant of a man, whose mere presence had made others lower their eyes, now bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the stone.
Gasps spread like wildfire.
The same people who had just mocked Riley and his wives now stared wide-eyed, their expressions twisted between disbelief and awe.
"P–please... come inside, Honored Guest." The Gatekeeper’s voice shook, each word laced with urgency and humility.
"Forgive me—please forgive this unworthy one for my offense in failing to recognize your greatness earlier."
Riley regarded him for the briefest moment, his face as calm and distant as the moon.
"No matter," he said, his tone light yet carrying an undeniable weight.
"It’s only a small thing."
Without a backward glance, Riley strode forward, his wives moving like a procession of celestial beings at his side.
Their presence was so radiant that no one dared even breathe too loudly as they passed.
The crowd instinctively parted, leaving a clean path through the gates.
Once Riley and his entourage disappeared into the bustling streets beyond, the Gatekeeper’s composed facade broke entirely.
His face was pale, his breaths shallow, and his hands shook as he hastily pulled a jade slip from his robe.
Channeling his spiritual energy into it, he sent out a message pulsing with urgency, the kind reserved for only the gravest matters:
To all commanding officers—seal this message in your minds. A bearer of the Ancient One’s token has entered the city. I repeat—this is no common guest. All possible offenses must be avoided. Inform the Master at once.
The moment the slip vanished into the ether, the Gatekeeper wiped the sweat from his brow, muttering under his breath,
"Heavens save us... why would that one come here...?"
Far above the city walls, in a grand spire lined with shimmering arrays, the jade slip materialized in the hands of a robed elder.
His eyes scanned the contents, and for the briefest moment, his stoic expression cracked—followed by a curse so low it was almost a whisper.
In the next heartbeat, bells began to toll.
The city’s upper echelons had been warned.
The message passed from one official to another, each man or woman reading it with growing astonishment before hurrying to send it higher up the chain.
By the time it reached the last and most important person in the city’s hierarchy, its weight had grown immeasurable.
It arrived in a chamber of light and silence.
There, seated on a high platform carved of white jade, was a woman of such breathtaking beauty that even the immortal attendants standing at the edges of the hall dared not lift their heads for too long.
She possessed hair like spun gold, each strand shimmering as if touched by the sun itself.
It fell in a cascade down her back, a flawless curtain framing a face that could only have been crafted by the heavens.
Her beauty was not merely physical—it was the sort that struck at the soul.
One look, and a man’s heart would stir with the urge to shield her from every danger; another, more dangerous kind of man, would be driven mad with the desire to claim her for himself.
Yet, despite the softness of her appearance, there was something in the way she held herself that warned: this is no fragile flower.
At that moment, her eyes were closed, and the chamber was steeped in stillness.
But when she opened them, the air shifted.
It was as though unseen Dao bells tolled in unison, their ethereal chimes harmonizing perfectly with her movements.
The dao rhythm flowed naturally from her, subtle yet profound, revealing her cultivation.
She was a True Immortal—an exceedingly strong one at that—and her very existence seemed to bridge mortal grace with divine authority.
Her delicate fingers, pale as carved snow-jade, reached out to accept the folded letter.
She glanced at it casually at first, her expression calm... until the words began to register.
Her composure cracked. The golden light in her eyes wavered, her pupils dilating ever so slightly.
The serene mask she wore slipped, replaced by something far sharper—a flicker of disbelief, perhaps even urgency.
"Is this true?" she breathed, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper, yet every syllable seemed to resonate with invisible force.
She did not summon her divine sense to verify the truth. She did not call for her subordinates to investigate.
There was no need.
The moment the thought entered her mind, her body blurred—and vanished.
The attendants felt only a sudden shift in the air pressure, a faint ripple in space itself, as though the world had briefly bent in her absence.
Her fragrance lingered for a heartbeat longer, then faded into nothingness, leaving the chamber empty and the jade platform cold.
Far beyond the walls of that palace, somewhere in the grand expanse of the immortal city, a streak of golden light tore across the sky, moving too fast for mortal or immortal eyes alike to follow.
She was moving toward the gates.
The woman arrived without a sound, her presence like a ripple in still water—felt by none, seen by none.
Even mortals passing within a breath of her remained oblivious, their eyes sliding over the space she occupied as if it were empty air.
Not even those at the Ancient God Realm could pierce through the veil that concealed her.
If anyone had, they would have been struck speechless.
Her identity was anything but simple, and the weight her name carried in certain circles could cause sects to tremble.
Yet here she stood, silent and unseen, her gaze fixed on a single figure in the distance.
"Is it him?" she murmured, her voice laced with uncertainty and a trace of longing.
Her eyes lingered on Riley, studying him as though trying to peel away the years with her gaze.
The report had been precise—his appearance, the easy confidence in his posture, the way beautiful women gravitated around him as if drawn to a sun.
Everything matched. This was the man who had taken out the token.
For a heartbeat, doubt lingered. Time had passed. Faces changed. Memories blurred.
But then—he turned.
Riley’s eyes swept the crowd, lingering for the briefest moment on the space she occupied.
And then he smiled.
It wasn’t the polite curve of the lips one might offer a stranger—it was a knowing smile, one that reached into the past and pulled at the strings of her heart.
Recognition, absolute and undeniable.
Only a true immortal could have seen her at this moment, cloaked as she was.
Yet he not only saw her... he acknowledged her.
The final nail sealing her certainty came with his next words—spoken softly, yet they cut through the bustle of the square as though meant for her ears alone.
"You’ve grown up well, beggar girl," Riley said, his voice calm but carrying a thread of warmth that made her chest tighten.
Her breath caught.
The years seemed to collapse in on themselves, dragging her back to the dusty streets where a ragged child with empty hands and hungrier eyes had first met the man who changed her life.
That single phrase stripped away the layers she had built—the titles, the cultivation, the poise.
"Master!" The word broke from her lips before she could stop it, trembling with emotion.
In the next heartbeat, she vanished from where she stood, reappearing before him in a blur of light.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the once-invisible woman materialized, her robes flowing like moonlit silk.
Without a shred of hesitation, she threw her arms around him, pressing her forehead against his chest.
Those watching could only stare, whispering in shock.
Who was this woman who could move without being detected?
Who could teleport directly to Riley’s side? And why... did she call him Master?
Everyone stood frozen, unable to believe what they had just heard.
The words seemed to hang in the air, impossible to reconcile with the reality before their eyes.
This woman—this figure of unparalleled power and legend—was crying.
She wasn’t just any immortal.
She was known across realms as the strongest immortal in existence, a being whose name had echoed through countless trillions of years.
Her strength was unmatched, her will unbreakable, and her presence alone had shifted the balance of entire worlds.
Yet here she was, tears streaming freely down her face, her sobs raw and unguarded, like those of a helpless child.
Whispers swept through the crowd, voices tinged with disbelief and awe.
How could the immortal who had stood unchallenged for eons be reduced to such a vulnerable state?
What pain or memory could have brought her to this breaking point?
The sheer magnitude of the moment struck every witness to their core.