The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 575

More and more people who had already lost everything—stripped down to nothing but their underwear—suddenly chose recklessness over caution.

They sat on the cold stone steps, eyes bloodshot, voices hoarse, and shouted in unison, “I bet my life!”

They knew exactly who Chen Liong was.

The true leader of the Dragon Group.

One of the strongest Outer Disciples.

A man whose name alone was supposed to guarantee victory.

Those who had hesitated before now looked from Alex to Chen Liong, their doubt melting away. In their minds, this fight had only one ending.

They rushed forward, throwing in the last scraps of what they owned—rings, tokens, spiritual stones, even the clothes off their backs.

They bet everything.

Chen Liong looked down at Alex as if he were examining dirt on his shoe.

“You, servant,” he said coldly, his voice carrying across the platform. “From this moment on, you will serve the Dragon Group.”

Alex lifted his chin and met his gaze without flinching.

“No,” he replied calmly.

He lifted the iron wok and pointed it straight at Chen Liong’s face. The metal edge hovered inches from his nose.

“You,” Alex said evenly, voice steady and cold, “are the one who will serve me.”

For a split second, Chen Liong froze.

Then he burst into laughter.

“Very well,” he said, eyes narrowing. “If you win.”

He drew his sword in one smooth motion and flung it forward.

The blade did not fall.

It hung in the air.

“Accept my first attack.”

With a sharp hum, the sword shot toward Alex like lightning.

But before it reached him, faint glowing lines traced its path through the air—Gaia’s prediction. The trajectory was clear, precise.

Alex stepped aside.

The blade sliced past him, missing by a hair.

Chen Liong’s wrist flicked. The sword twisted midair and lunged again. Faster. Sharper.

Alex moved again.

Millimeter by millimeter, he avoided each strike.

No matter how Chen Liong manipulated the blade—left, right, upward, downward—Alex evaded it with impossible precision.

And whenever his reaction lagged by even a fraction of a second, Gaia adjusted him with micro-corrections, shifting his body just enough to survive.

Steel hissed through the air again and again.

In just a few seconds, Alex’s clothes were shredded to pieces.

Fabric fell away like torn leaves in a storm, leaving his chest bare, sweat glistening under the harsh arena light. His muscles tightened with every movement, breath steady despite the relentless assault.

Below the platform, a group of women stared upward.

“Don’t you think he’s handsome?” one whispered, unable to look away.

“Yes,” another replied, eyes wide. “He’s strong enough to defeat Huang Jie, the Tiger Group Leader.”

“I think… I’ve found my idol.”

Soon, their whispers turned into cheers.

“Number Nine, be strong!”

Their voices rang across the arena.

Among the gamblers who had lost everything, faces turned red with fury when they heard the support for Alex.

“You bastard, Chen Liong!” one man screamed, veins bulging in his neck. “How can you not defeat a servant? Are you even the top Outer Disciple?”

“Yeah!” another shouted. “What kind of Outer Disciple can’t crush a servant?”

“What a damn Dragon!” a third roared, nearly in tears. “You’re nothing but a worm!”

He had wagered everything on Chen Liong.

And above them all, the sword continued to flash, slicing the air again and again as Chen Liong’s pride began to crack under the eyes of the crowd.

To the crowd, it almost looked like a performance.

Chen Liong stood at the center of the platform, his sword gliding through the air in controlled arcs. The blade darted left and right, slicing the wind with lethal precision.

Alex only danced.

He shifted his weight. Tilted his head. Twisted his waist. Raised a leg. Bent an elbow. Every movement was clean, minimal, deliberate.

They were wagering their lives.

And yet it looked like a silly game.

The spectators grew restless. Their fear turned into anger.

“You, Chen Liong!” someone shouted from below. “If you can’t win, destroy your Dragon Group and wear women’s clothes!”

“Change your Dragon Group into the Worm Group!”

Laughter exploded from the crowd.

Chen Liong’s ears burned red.

His jaw tightened as he stared at Alex, disbelief flickering in his eyes. How could this servant evade every single strike? His sword technique was flawless. His control was absolute.

With one powerful motion, he recalled the sword into his hand.

The blade snapped back into his grip.

Without another word, he lunged.

This time, there was no distance. No elegant display of control.

He swung.

Alex reacted instantly—lifting his leg to avoid a sweeping cut, bending backward as the blade passed inches from his throat, twisting his torso to escape a diagonal slash aimed at his ribs.

The attacks came fast.

Too fast.

Chen Liong’s sword became a storm of steel. Each strike carried killing intent. There was no room for counterattack.

Alex could not strike back.

Not now.

One wrong step.

One delayed breath.

He would die.

The blade was so sharp that even the wind it created sliced into Alex’s skin. Thin red lines appeared across his arms and chest. Blood surfaced in narrow streaks.

The crowd leaned forward, eyes wide.

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