The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 595

Alex’s gaze locked onto Han Fei, both of his arms were gone.

Blood soaked his robes, but it wasn’t pouring anymore. One of his companions had already struck several pressure points along his shoulders, sealing the flow.

Another disciple knelt nearby, carefully holding the severed arms, channeling inner energy into them, preserving what life remained in the flesh.

They all knew—if treated fast enough, the arms could still be reattached.

Silence hung heavy in the air.

Then Alex moved.

“You,” he said, pointing at a nearby disciple. “Give me your disciple medallion.”

The disciple froze, fear flashing across his face. “I—I don’t have enough merit points,” he stammered. “Please… don’t take mine…”

Alex let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Who said anything about taking it from you?”

The tension broke—but only slightly.

“I heard it costs one thousand merit points to reattach a single arm,” Alex continued, his tone flat, almost indifferent.

“I’ll pay two thousand to have both his arms treated,” Alex said, his voice steady, almost indifferent. “And another thousand… to compensate for what he lost in the library.”

A ripple of shock spread through the crowd.

Three thousand merit points.

That wasn’t generosity. That was dominance.

The disciple stared at him, stunned, then hurriedly handed over the medallion. The moment Alex touched it, a faint glow flickered—points transferring in an instant.

Three thousand.

Done.

Without another word, Alex let the medallion drop back into the disciple’s trembling hands. Then he flicked the sword away. It struck the ground with a sharp, biting sound, the blade sinking into the earth.

He didn’t look back.

He simply turned—and walked away.

The crowd parted immediately, instinctively, as if pushed aside by an invisible force. No one dared stand in his way. No one even breathed too loudly.

Behind him, Han Fei’s voice tore through the air.

“This isn’t over!” he shouted, his face twisted in pain and fury. “I’ll report this to the Elder! You attacked me—you cut off both my arms! You’ll be expelled for this!”

Alex didn’t stop.

“Yes,” he said, his voice drifting back, calm and almost bored. “Please do.”

“Tell him to throw me out of this place. I’m already sick of it… especially seeing people like you calling yourselves disciples.”

“I’d be glad to leave.”

“You—!” Han Fei’s voice cracked, trembling with rage. “Just wait!”

But Alex was already gone.

Gone as if he had never been there at all.

—

A sudden stillness swept across the courtyard.

Then—

An old man appeared.

No one saw him arrive. One moment the space was empty, the next he was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, eyes deep and unreadable.

Recognition spread like wildfire.

“Peak Leader!” voices whispered, then rose as one. Everyone bowed deeply, heads lowered in respect.

The Thousand Herbs Peak Leader didn’t answer.

His gaze lingered in the distance—where Alex’s figure had already vanished.

He had heard everything.

Every word. Every action.

A rare talent.

Dangerously rare.

If such a man turned against the Wudang Sect…

…it wouldn’t just be a loss.

It would be a disaster.

“Peak Leader!”

Han Fei dropped to his knees, his voice trembling with urgency and pain. “Please, you must give me justice! That new outer disciple attacked me—he cut off both my arms!”

Tears streamed down his face.

“I beg you—give me justice!”

The Peak Leader slowly turned his gaze toward him.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, in a voice as calm as still water, he said:

“You struck him fifty times.”

His eyes sharpened.

“He struck you once.”

“And you still dare to ask me for justice?”

“That’s a lie!” Han Fei shouted, his voice hoarse but defiant. “I never hit him even once! He’s the one who attacked me!”

The crowd shifted uneasily.

The Peak Leader didn’t move. His gaze stayed calm—too calm.

“You lost to him—miserably,” he said, each word slow and deliberate. “And then you gathered a crowd… demanded ten thousand merit points… and even one of his arms.”

A faint shake of his head.

“And you call that justice?”

Han Fei’s expression twisted. “Peak Leader… he humiliated me. I deserve compensation—for my dignity.”

The words barely left his mouth before the air turned cold.

“Han Fei,” the Peak Leader said, his tone dropping, heavy with quiet authority. “Because your uncle is an Elder, you’ve grown arrogant.”

“You flaunt your status. You manipulate others. You use his name to extort your fellow disciples.” His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t the first time.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“You’ve escaped punishment again and again,” he continued, “only because of who stands behind you.”

Han Fei clenched his jaw, his voice tight with defiance. “I’m telling the truth, Peak Leader!”

Silence followed.

Then the Peak Leader stepped forward.

“I watched you,” he said,. “On the second floor. I saw you strike him—again and again.”

“Fifty times.”

“So tell me… are you saying what I saw… was a lie.”

Han Fei’s face drained of color.

He hadn’t known.

Hadn’t even imagined…

…someone was watching.

“This isn’t your first offense,” the Peak Leader continued. “You’ve caused chaos before. Driven good disciples out of Wudang.”

“All because you hide behind your uncle’s authority.”

“You are destroying the very people who still believe in this sect,” he said. “Breaking its laws. Corrupting its foundation.”

He stopped beside the sword, its blade still stabbed into the ground.

“For that,” he said quietly, “I will give you justice.”

The sword vanished.

No one saw how.

One blink—it was there.

The next—

Gone.

Then—

It reappeared, driven back into the ground, exactly where it had been—like it had never moved at all.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Han Fei stood there, frozen, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open—

—as if trying to speak.

Then—

A thin red line appeared across his neck.

Time slowed.

His head tilted.

Slid.

And fell.

It hit the ground with a dull, final sound.

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