An Understated Dominance (Dustin Rhys) Chapter 2691 TO 2700 ENGLISH VERSION

ENGLISH VERSION 2691

The longsword planted before him hummed relentlessly as Logan’s fingers moved through a blur of intricate seals, leaving faint afterimages in the air.

The Mystical True Energy around him—once dimmed by the brutal clash—no longer weakened. Instead, it surged anew, deeper and more controlled, drawing strength not just from within him but from the very laws of the world itself.

He was no longer merely channeling his own energy.

He was resonating with the heavens.

“All stars and constellations, heed my command! Mystical True Energy, seal the demon—suppress it!”

Logan’s voice carried the weight of cosmic law, a command that seemed to ripple through the heavens.

At his words, the sword embedded in the ground erupted with a blinding blue radiance that shot straight into the sky.

Above the platform—where once only Yaochi’s spiritual mist and the rift’s malevolent aura lingered—phantoms of ancient stars began to flicker into existence, shimmering faintly across the void.

That vast, eternal power of the constellations pierced through space and descended like a sacred river, guided by Logan’s will, merging seamlessly with his Mystical True Energy.

The four dragon-blooded war puppets that had been charging forward suddenly froze. Their scarlet eyes pulsed violently as they let out guttural roars filled with primal fear—the instinctive terror of creatures sensing their natural predator.

“Fall!”

Logan’s fingers sliced downward like a blade.

Instantly, endless blue starlight—woven with runes of boundless True Energy—poured from above like the Milky Way crashing down, engulfing the four puppets in a divine torrent.

“ROAR—!!”

The war puppets screamed in fury and pain as the dark red lines across their bodies blazed to life, struggling against the divine seal. They clawed wildly, ripping through waves of starlight as the malevolent energy collided with celestial force, creating a thunderous explosion that shook the heavens.

But Logan’s Sealing Technique wasn’t ordinary magic. It was a sacred art—one that invoked the supreme power of the Heavenly Dao itself. Against creatures tainted by evil and dragon blood, it was devastating.

No matter how they struggled, the puppets could not escape. The radiant starlight transformed into countless chains, wrapping them layer by layer. The sealing runes seared into their hardened bodies like branding irons, dimming their crimson glow and stilling their movements.

Their roars weakened, their energy faltered, and the darkness within them began to fade.

Then—

With a sharp, echoing crack like shattering porcelain—the four dragon-blooded war puppets froze solid, bound tightly by the celestial chains, forming four massive cyan cocoons. Runes of starlight pulsed faintly across their surfaces as only two dim scarlet embers flickered within, radiating cold resentment.

The furious energy that had ravaged the platform finally subsided. Starlight shimmered in the air before slowly fading away.

“Pfft!”

Logan’s body trembled violently as he spat out a mouthful of blood. His face turned ghostly pale, his aura faint and unstable.

That final Sealing Technique—performed beyond his limits—had nearly drained his True Energy and spirit dry.

He leaned on his sword, barely managing to stay upright.

“Logan!”

Grace rushed forward, catching his collapsing form. Her eyes glistened with worry and heartbreak as she supported him gently.

Alongi and the others finally let out the breaths they’d been holding, their relief mixing with reverent awe. What they had just witnessed was not humanly possible.

Inside the palace, before the shimmering water mirror—

Silence reigned.

The decadent music had long ceased. The once-indulgent men and women, frozen mid-motion, now stared in disbelief at the image within the mirror—Logan, standing firm though barely conscious, and the four sealed puppets before him.

The effeminate man’s hands hung motionless above his zither strings.

The Taoist-robed man, wine cup in hand, forgot to drink.

The breathtaking woman slowly lowered her hand from her lips, her eyes wide with shock.

“A Sealing Technique?” the Taoist-robed man murmured hoarsely. “He can channel the power of the stars? Who in the world is this boy?”

The beautiful woman inhaled deeply, trying to steady her excitement. Her eyes glowed with hunger. “Such purity… such power… if I could absorb that essence—make it mine—it would be divine.”

Aukon, lounging lazily upon his jade recliner, finally sat up.

For the first time, emotion broke through the calm mask he’d worn for centuries. His gaze locked on Logan’s battered figure, filled with surprise, curiosity—and unmistakable possessiveness, as though he’d just discovered a priceless treasure.

“Transcending the mortal path and touching the Dao itself…” Aukon’s voice was deep and low, trembling with an excitement he didn’t bother to hide. “This child has already surpassed the limits of a martial artist. He’s close to enlightenment.”

He set down his wine cup, eyes flashing with resolve. “Send the order. Open the bridge. Invite him into the palace.”

On the white jade platform, Logan swallowed the last of Grace’s precious healing pills—remnants from their earlier supplies. His internal energy barely stabilized, though exhaustion still gripped him like a vice.

Then, from the heart of the Yaochi spring, the void rippled.

A radiant beam of light shot upward, bursting into a cascade of colors that arced gracefully across the sky. In moments, it condensed into a glowing Rainbow Bridge, stretching across the air like a divine path woven from pure energy.

The other end of the bridge disappeared into the distant void, as if linking directly to another world.

From its depths came a surge of rich, pure spiritual energy—far stronger than anything here, yet carrying that same alluring trace of dragon blood.

And then—

A grand, emotionless voice echoed clearly across the heavens:

“The bridge to the immortals has been opened. Please, esteemed guest… step into the hall for a conversation.”

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The sudden shift left Grace, Alongi, and the others completely stunned. None of them could tell whether this turn of events was a blessing… or a trap waiting to spring.

After a brief rest, some color returned to Logan’s pale face. His gaze fixed on the Rainbow Bridge, its glow mesmerizing yet filled with mystery. He could feel it — beyond that bridge lay Aukon and the others, and the luxurious palace they occupied.

“It seems that unless we defeat the root of all this, we’ll never uncover Yaochi’s true secrets.”

Logan pushed himself to his feet. His breathing was still shallow, but his eyes sharpened with renewed determination.

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m going with you,” Grace said immediately, her eyes steady and filled with concern.

Logan met her gaze. Seeing the worry and unwavering resolve in her eyes, he finally nodded.

“Stay close.”

Together, they stepped onto the bridge of flowing seven-colored light.

The instant their feet touched the surface, their surroundings twisted and blurred. Space warped around them, as if they were crossing an endless distance in a heartbeat.

When the world settled again, they found themselves somewhere completely different.

Smooth white jade paved the ground beneath their feet. Magnificent halls stretched around them, adorned with carved beams, glowing pearls, coral-like trees, and shimmering ornaments. A warm, dreamlike radiance filled the air.

The scent of wine and rich food drifted around them, mingled with an overwhelming spiritual energy so dense it felt almost liquid.

And at the center, an enormous “wine pool and meat forest,” where men and women indulged in reckless excess.

On the highest white-jade recliner lounged Aukon, flanked by an effeminate man, a Taoist-robed figure, and a breathtakingly beautiful woman.

Their gazes locked on Logan and Grace like four piercing searchlights.

“Welcome to Fairyharbor Immortal Palace,”

Aukon greeted, voice calm but pulsing with a new, unfathomable tone.

His eyes focused solely on Logan, treating Grace as little more than an afterthought.

The Taoist-robed man eyed Logan from head to toe, whistling softly.

“To touch the Great Dao of Stars with a mortal body… Kid, your talent is unbelievable.”

The stunning woman’s eyes shimmered with seductive charm.

“Handsome and gifted… You really do make a woman’s heart restless.”

The delicate-featured man plucked his instrument, releasing a teasing note.

The palace atmosphere seemed divine — elegant music, glowing wine, and ethereal beauty.

But Logan’s divine sense pierced through the illusion.

Beneath that thick spiritual aura lurked a twisted, refined demonic energy — the same source as the malevolent power within the dragon blood.

These people weren’t celestial. They were dripping with demonic taint.

That “wine pool and meat forest” didn’t contain vitality… but corrupted life essence.

The men and women reveling in pleasure had glazed eyes and shallow breaths — not immortals, but vessels being drained dry.

This wasn’t a divine sanctuary.

It was a demon’s nest wearing a celestial mask.

“The Celestial Palace?” Logan scoffed, sweeping his cold gaze across Aukon and the others. “All I see is filth — parasites stealing dragon power and calling it enlightenment.”

The music stopped instantly.

Silence crashed down. Pleasure-seekers froze in fear. The zither fell silent, the Taoist’s smile stiffened, and the beauty’s eyes flashed with icy hostility.

Only Aukon remained unchanged, though a glimmer of appreciation flickered in his eyes.

“Sharp perception. The line between immortals and demons is razor-thin. Power itself is neutral — only the hand that wields it decides its nature.”

He sat up straight, his voice smooth and tempting.

“Logan, your talent shouldn’t be wasted in the mortal world. Join us. Here, spiritual energy never runs dry. You’ll access dragon essence, cultivate freely, and live unbound for all eternity.”

He lifted his hand. A pill the size of a longan, glowing gold and red like molten life essence, appeared in his palm — Dragon Blood Regeneration Pill.

“With this pill, you’ll heal instantly — and grow stronger.”

He gestured toward the indulgent scene.

“And here, endless beauty and pleasure await. Everything a cultivator could desire.”

His tone deepened.

“Sign the contract, and Fairyharbor will be your eternal paradise. You will help us master the Void Dragon’s power… and in return, we will even cure the girl’s father behind you. True Yaochi essence — extending his life.”

Immortality. Power. Luxury. Healing for Grace’s father.

A paradise too perfect to refuse.

Grace’s fingers tightened, her expression tense.

Logan’s eyes lingered on the glowing pill, on the surreal palace — then locked onto Aukon’s calm eyes hiding endless ambition.

Slowly, he shook his head.

His voice rang through the hall, clear and unwavering:

“Those who walk different paths cannot walk together.”

“My path is to stay true to myself — to protect those worth protecting — not to feed off destruction, to corrupt life, or to call this twisted nest a paradise.”

“What you’ve built isn’t divine. It’s demonic. This immortality, this contract — they aren’t worth the filth they’re written in.”

The final word fell—

—and killing intent exploded across Fairyharbor like a storm.

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Logan’s words — “Demon, not immortal.” — slammed through the grand and eerie Fairyharbor Immortal Palace like thunder.

The temperature in the hall seemed to crash. Even the spiritual energy swirling in the wine pool froze in place.

The men and women who had been indulging in pleasure fell silent, stiff and trembling like animals with a blade at their throats. Not one dared to breathe.

The effeminate man’s fingers halted over his zither strings. The beautiful woman’s seductive smile iced over, her charm replaced by a razor-sharp chill.

Even Aukon, usually lazy and detached, finally showed emotion — a flicker of unmistakable fury in his depths.

Ants struggling might be amusing. But ants daring to mock and defy the heavens? That was blasphemy.

“You truly don’t know how to appreciate kindness.”

The man in the Taoist robe snapped first.

With a sharp crack, his jade wine cup shattered on the floor, wine splashing like spilled blood across the white jade tiles.

He surged to his feet, robe whipping around him, his once-playful expression twisting into a sinister snarl.

“A nobody — a mortal sword cultivator who stumbled into a bit of luck — dares slander this sacred immortal paradise? Today, I’ll show you what true immortal power looks like!”

Logan’s earlier words — exposing their stolen Void Dragon power and calling this place a demonic lair disguised as paradise — had clearly struck deep.

Aukon didn’t stop him. He simply leaned back, cold and silent, as though watching a spectacle unfold.

The effeminate man and the stunning beauty stared on as well, waiting to see how long Logan could survive against Aoki’s full force.

Aoki began forming hand seals at breakneck speed, a twisted blue aura rising from his body, laced with deathly stillness and corruption.

Though he practiced wood-type Dao arts, long exposure to tainted dragon energy had already warped him far from any righteous path.

“All wood spirits — heed my command! Slaughter him!”

He thrust his seal toward the lush plants and glowing spiritual trees lining one side of the hall.

In an instant, the serene greenery went wild — vines burst forth like venomous serpents, thorns glinting, whipping toward Logan. Branches hardened into spears, raining down like a deadly storm.

A rotten aura swept outward, trying to corrode Logan’s life force.

Logan was still recovering, but his eyes were as sharp as blades.

His sword flashed — not with sweeping power, but with precision. He moved like wind between vines and spears, every stroke striking a weak point, every thrust cutting through the strongest node.

Crack—snap—

Sword light shimmered. Vines tore apart; wooden spears shattered like dry bone.

Fast, precise, ruthless — his sword intent cut through corruption as though slicing through illusion. Aoki’s fierce wood arts collapsed like rotten wood under a butcher’s blade.

“Not bad. Try dodging this!”

Humiliated, Aoki snarled, changing hand seals. His body glowed with brighter blue light — and streaks of murky black slipped through like poison.

“The wood gives birth to spirits — rise and obey!”

He slammed his palm into the ground.

From the cracks in the flawless jade erupted countless black, twisted spirits — shrieking, formless shadows born from corrupted plant souls and fallen cultivators consumed by dragon malice.

They had no bodies, only claws that tore at the soul, rushing at Logan like a tide, dimming the very air.

Aoki flicked his sleeve — three dark talisman lights shot out, landing and rising into three flying corpses dressed in ancient official robes, skin blue-black, nails long and purple as blades.

Corrupted by dragon malice, these zombies burst forward with terrifying speed and strength, joining the swarm of soul-rending spirits.

“Be careful! It’s Soul-Capturing Evil Sound — and flying corpses!”

Grace’s face paled. She quickly channeled energy to defend herself, resisting the shrill psychic wails.

Logan didn’t flinch.

He raised his left hand like a sword and tapped his brow — a gentle, clear spiritual wave spread out, like rain dissolving fog, weakening the ghostly shrieks.

At the same time, he swept his sword in a graceful, mysterious arc.

“Mysterious Purity wards evil — Thunder cleanses the soul.”

Purple lightning flickered faintly along the blade.

A deep, resonant thunder hummed — not heard with ears, but striking directly into the soul.

—BOOM—

The thunder-sword intent exploded outward, shaking the hall.

The demonic spirits shrieked, dissolving like frost under burning sunlight. Those that remained turned thin and translucent, their threat crippled.

 

 

 

 

 

English version 

2694-2695

Facing three near-invulnerable black-haired flying corpses, Logan moved like smoke, weaving effortlessly between their strikes.

He didn’t clash head-on anymore; his swordwork transformed — razor-sharp and cunning. Every thrust hit precisely at joint seams or talisman energy nodes, piercing weak points like he could see the corpses’ inner workings.

Ding! Ding! Sizzle!

A sword glow flickered. One zombie’s knee joint snapped from the impact, freezing it mid-lunge.

Another talisman was pierced and the corpse suddenly spun wildly like a broken puppet.

The third charged with brutal force, claws aiming straight for Logan’s heart. But Logan slid aside with smooth footwork and stabbed backward — his blade driving into its open mouth, ripping through its skull from within like a beam of white light breaking through the sky.

In just a few breaths, all three powerful flying corpses were disabled — shredded by Logan’s precise, merciless swordsmanship.

“Trash.”

Aoki’s face twisted, humiliation fueling his fury. His hands snapped together. The bright wood aura around him darkened into a deep, devouring green that seemed to swallow all light.

“Azure Wood Divine Thunder — annihilate all life!”

Both palms thrust out.

A pillar of lightning — thick as a tree trunk, sickly green and reeking of decay — tore through the air with a ghost-howling screech. It carried a force meant to erase life itself.

This wasn’t true heavenly thunder, but a corrupted imitation — born from decayed wood qi and dragon malice, meant to rot flesh and devour vitality.

Logan’s eyes narrowed — this strike was far above anything the Dragon Blood War Puppets had unleashed.

He didn’t hold back.

All the Xuanqing True Qi he’d managed to recover surged into his blade. The sword trembled, cloud patterns flowing, and a tiny azure dragon phantom coiled around it.

“One sword — startle the dragon.”

His breath steadied. His body and blade aligned. Then he shot forward like a streak of cyan lightning, meeting the destructive thunder head-on.

No retreat. No hesitation. Just pure force clashing against pure force.

BOOOOM—!

Azure brilliance collided with corrupted green thunder, erupting like a world-ending storm. Light swallowed the hall. A shockwave blasted through the wine pool, sending spiritual liquid erupting like a tidal wave. Jade pillars shook. Those indulgent mortals who couldn’t dodge screamed as they were flung aside.

When the glare faded, Logan still stood — sword raised. His robes were torn, lightning burns streaking his body, blood trickling from his lips.

But his blade pointed steadily forward.

The dark green thunder had been cut clean in half. The remnants crashed behind him, scorching the white jade floor and eating into it with corrosive sizzles.

Aoki stared, stunned speechless.

His strongest strike — shattered by a counterattack.

His mind froze.

Logan didn’t.

In that instant, Logan vanished — reappearing right before Aoki like a flash of swordlight.

Too fast. Faster than thought.

Aoki barely saw the gleam of steel before instinct screamed danger. He tried to form a wood shield, to teleport away — but he was already too late.

Pft—!

Blood sprayed.

Logan’s sword pierced the thick armor of vines across Aoki’s chest and drove straight through his left shoulder. Violent sword qi tore through muscle and meridians, ripping apart his corrupted wood energy from within.

“AAHHH—!”

Aoki was flung backward like a broken kite, slamming into a jade pillar before collapsing to the floor.

Blood poured from the wound, and the sword qi lingering inside kept ripping at him, preventing healing and draining his life with every heartbeat. His face turned ghost-white, breath shattered. Terror and hatred filled his eyes.

One sword. Aoki — crushed.

Silence smothered the hall.

All arrogance vanished from the effeminate man and the stunning beauty. Their smiles disappeared, replaced with true fear.

Aukon finally rose, abandoning his lazy recline. His eyes turned glacial — fury and killing intent burning like ancient ice and flame.

Logan leaned slightly on his sword, breath rough from the relentless battles. His body screamed exhaustion.

Yet his spine remained straight.

And his gaze — sharp, unwavering — met Aukon’s furious, primordial stare without a hint of fear.

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Aukon didn’t rush to strike. Instead, his calm stare said everything:

Logan was already dead in his eyes.

“Good. Good. Good.”

The effeminate man repeated the word three times, each one softer than the last—yet each laced with venom. His tone was gentle, charming even, but cold enough to freeze bone.

He set down his jade cup with graceful precision, rose, and smoothed the sleeves of his pink-purple robe like a performer preparing for center stage.

“To injure Aoki that badly—you truly do have skill. But it’s a shame you crossed paths with me… Dark Murky.”

The moment he spoke his name, the atmosphere shifted.

Moisture thickened in the air.

Spiritual liquid in the wine pool rippled without wind.

A thin sheen of water condensed on the glowing pearls in the walls.

Even the spiritual essence in the air felt drenched—thick, suffocating. It was as if Dark Murky had become the ruler of all water within this chamber.

Logan stood with his sword, breath ragged.

He had already burned through nearly every ounce of strength. The clash with Aoki’s pseudo-divine lightning had drained him almost dry.

Yet his gaze stayed sharp, locked on Dark Murky.

He could tell—this man was far more dangerous than Aoki. That calm surface hid a deep ocean of killing intent.

“Water Dragon’s Chant.”

Dark Murky lifted two fingers and flicked them lightly toward Logan.

The wine pool erupted.

A torrent of spiritual liquid mixed with vicious dragon-blood energy surged upward, instantly forming three massive dark-blue water dragons, each scaled, clawed, and alive with malice. Their roars shook the chamber as they lunged from three angles.

Before they even reached him, biting cold swept across the floor, frosting the ground white. Ice formed on Logan’s eyebrows and hair.

Logan forced true essence through his body and slashed—his sword erupting into dozens of cyan arcs, fanning out like a peacock’s tail.

Steel met water.

Sword light tore through dragon-flesh.

Heads burst. Bodies shredded.

But the severed water didn’t vanish—it re-formed instantly, coiling into fresh dragons.

Dark Murky’s lips curled. “Useless. Mystic Ice Prison.”

All three dragons opened their jaws and breathed out deep-blue frost. Space itself seemed to freeze. Razor-sharp ice spikes burst from the ground, sealing Logan inside an icy cage.

The temperature crashed.

This place became a frozen hell.

Logan pushed forward, sword light shattering ice and cleaving through freezing waves. But the cold dragged on him like chains, slowing his movements, eroding his protective sword aura.

And the water dragons never relented, circling, striking, drowning him in relentless pressure.

“Water Mirror Illusion.”

Dark Murky’s voice echoed as his figure blurred—then split into three identical versions of himself, each unleashing attacks.

Dragons crashed.

Ice spears rained.

Soul-piercing water waves surged at him.

Logan scanned with divine sense—but every copy carried the same aura, same power. No way to tell real from fake.

He relied on instinct alone, weaving through death, sword flashing, parrying wave after wave. Every clash shook his organs. His energy drained like water through a shattered cup.

If he hadn’t already stepped into the terrestrial immortal realm—able to draw in heaven and earth’s spiritual essence to barely replenish himself—he would’ve collapsed already.

Then—his eyes sharpened.

There.

A subtle flicker. A momentary disruption in one clone’s qi flow.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He ignored all incoming attacks, fused himself with his blade, and shot forward like concentrated lightning.

“—!”

The sword pierced “Dark Murky’s” chest cleanly.

But the figure only smiled before dissolving into water, splashing harmlessly to the floor.

A water clone.

The real Dark Murky stood behind him.

A dark-blue ice-crystal sword materialized in his hand—silent, deadly—and thrust toward Logan’s back in the perfect killing strike.

Logan moved as if he had eyes behind his skull. Before his momentum carried him forward, his torso twisted at an impossible angle, sword sweeping back in a precise counter.

Clang!

Steel met ice.

A wave of extreme cold surged along Logan’s blade and exploded into his arm. Frost crawled across his skin instantly, freezing muscle, tendon, meridian—bone-deep winter flooding his body in an instant.