The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 625

The old sect master stood frozen on the mountain peak, his mind reeling from the unbelievable scenes unfolding in the courtyard below.

Drones buzzed through the air, carrying items back and forth like busy transport vehicles. In the distance, a disciple was even piloting something that could fly. None of it made any sense.

Before he could gather his thoughts, soft footsteps approached. Li Qingxue appeared at the edge of the peak and dropped into a deep, respectful bow.

“Congratulations, Master,” she said, voice steady and warm. “Your closed-door cultivation is complete.”

“Qingxue.” The old man’s words came out in a rush. “Tell me what in the nine heavens is happening here.”

He swept his arm toward the entire Wudang Mountain, his voice cracking with disbelief. “Are we under attack? Has Xia fallen to Prussia? Is this… their doing?”

Li Qingxue straightened slowly, meeting his wild gaze with calm certainty. “No, Master. None of this belongs to the Prussians. Every piece was crafted by Jun Jiu. Which means, in every way that matters, it was made by Wudang.”

The old master’s eyes flew wide. For a long moment he simply stared at her, the color draining from his weathered face.

Even if a bird with four wings had landed on his shoulder and spoken his name, it would not have stunned him more than this single sentence.

“Wudang… can create things like these?” he whispered.

He took a shaky breath, then another. “Wait. Don’t tell me that boy spent every last spiritual stone of the sect’s savings to buy all this. Tell me he didn’t touch the emergency reserves.”

Li Qingxue hesitated. “I don’t know the exact amount we were holding.”

“Almost a million spiritual stones,” the old master said, the words heavy on his tongue. “A hundred years my generation scraped and guarded every single one. Tell me he didn’t use them.”

“That much?” Li Qingxue’s voice faltered for the first time.

The old master’s hands trembled at his sides. “Yes. And if that boy spent them on trinkets, no matter how miraculous, then Wudang is finished. We are doomed the next time real danger comes.”

Li Qingxue studied him for a quiet moment, then offered the only mercy she could. “Master, would you like me to accompany you to the storage vault? I think this needs to be seen with your own eyes. You won’t believe me otherwise.”

He gave a sharp, desperate nod. “Yes. Now.”

They climbed the narrow mountain path in silence, the wind whipping at their robes. When they reached the peak and the heavy iron doors of the sect treasury came into view, the old master let out a long, defeated sigh. He already knew what he would find.

“Tell me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “how much is left inside?”

Li Qingxue answered without flinching. “One hundred million spiritual stones.”

The old master’s head snapped toward her. His eyes narrowed into a glare that could have cracked stone. “This is no time for jokes, Qingxue.”

She met his stare evenly, unflinching. “I’m not joking, Master. That’s exactly why I brought you here myself. I’m not permitted to enter the vault. You have to see it for yourself.”

The old sect master pressed his palm against the ancient formation seal on the iron doors. A soft pulse of qi answered him, and the heavy panels swung inward with a low groan. He stepped inside—and stopped cold.

The treasury vault he remembered had been a modest stone chamber carved into the mountain. What lay before him now stretched far deeper, its walls expanded and reinforced with gleaming new runes.

The air hummed with fresh power. Row after row of wooden crates filled the expanded space, stretching into the shadows until the eye lost count. Endless. Impossible.

He walked forward on unsteady legs, lifted the lid of the nearest crate, and stared. It was packed to the brim with spiritual stones—pure, flawless, glowing with soft white light. He moved to the next crate, then the next. Every one of them overflowed.

More than a million stones. Easily.

A hundred million stones?

His throat tightened. For five hundred years he, his master, and his grandmaster had bled and sacrificed to hoard a single million. They had skipped meals, delayed repairs, turned away promising disciples because there simply wasn’t enough. And now, in barely ten years, that boy Jun Jiu had turned the sect’s reserves into… this.

He turned slowly to Li Qingxue, voice rough. “Did he rob someone?”

She shook her head, calm as still water. “Not that I know of, Master.”

“Then where in the nine hells did all these stones come from?”

Li Qingxue met his stunned gaze. “Right now the sect has thirty major streams of income. The three largest are our new mines, our medicine halls, and weapon sales.”

“Mines?” The word cracked out of him like a whip. “The last spiritual stone mine on record ran dry five hundred years ago. I studied the scrolls myself.”

Li Qingxue gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “We have three active spiritual stone mines now. And two metal mines besides.”

The old master’s knees nearly buckled. “How?”

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