Chapter 366: Arena! Top Strength! Becoming the Chief! Peak

Chapter 366: The Arena! Top-Tier Might! Achieving Primacy! Peak Powerhouses! Competing for the Throne of the Divine Son!

The Melting Heart Emperor’s cryptic remark, "Welcome to the Arena," rippled through the calm, mirror-like surface of Qin Feng’s mind like a stone cast into a still lake.

He followed the Melting Heart Emperor through the outer shell of the "Mastermind Gear," a labyrinth of countless light paths and intricate structures, into the core region reserved exclusively for the Saint Son candidates.

The space here was a stark departure from the austere, frigid atmosphere of the outside world.

Each candidate was granted an independent, vast private domain, comparable in scale to a small galaxy.

Qin Feng was assigned a pure white continent, suspended in the void and constructed entirely of raw energy.

Upon this land, mountains, rivers, and architecture—every material form—could be created or altered at the whim of his personal will.

This was an absolute private sanctuary, the supreme courtesy extended by the Ninth Sequence to its most elite prodigies.

"This shall be your residence and training ground for the next three hundred years."

The Melting Heart Emperor hovered above the white continent; his colossal form seemed perfectly proportioned against the vastness of the space.

"Beyond essential resource supplies and information exchanges, no one—myself included—may set foot here without your express permission."

Qin Feng surveyed his surroundings, sensing the near-infinite computational power and energy support, gaining a deeper appreciation for the profound heritage of the Mechanical Race.

"You repelled Turing just now. Well done."

The Melting Heart Emperor shifted the tone, cutting straight to the point. "You have proven to everyone that you deserve to stand here. However, a single probing victory is far from enough."

"In the Ninth Sequence, and indeed throughout the entire Mechanical Race, there is only one ultimate standard for judging the true value of a prodigy—"

"Combat record."

His voice grew profoundly solemn.

"And the fairest, most intuitive, and most brutal place to measure that record is the name you just heard—[The Arena]."

The Melting Heart Emperor waved his hand, and a stream of data unfolded in mid-air, constructing a hyper-realistic virtual interface before Qin Feng.

At the center of the interface lay a circular arena built of obsidian and molten lava, radiating an aura of primal, blood-soaked violence.

Countless grotesque sculptures of mechanical beasts lined the perimeter, as if roaring in silent fury.

"[The Arena] is not a location that exists in a physical sense," the Melting Heart Emperor began to explain in detail. "It is an absolutely fair virtual combat platform based on our Mechanical Race’s supreme network, constructed by the first generation of 'Saint-Sealing Powerhouses' of the Ninth Sequence."

"Any member of the Ninth Sequence, regardless of where they are in the universe, can project their soul and core consciousness into this battlefield, provided they have the network access permissions."

"Here, the system creates a virtual combat avatar for you that is identical to your true physical form, without the slightest deviation. All your secret arts, equipment, and combat instincts are replicated to perfection."

"The sensations of battle are one hundred percent authentic. Pain, exhaustion, and even the experience of 'death' are indistinguishable from the real world. The only difference is that death here is not the end; your consciousness will safely return, but you will undergo a 'soul repair period' of varying length, during which you cannot re-enter the Arena."

Qin Feng listened in silence.

While the concept bore similarities to the virtual combat platforms within the Human Saint Academy, the scale, fidelity, and core status within the civilization were clearly orders of magnitude higher.

"The matching rule of the Arena is simple: same realm only."

"As you are currently in the King-Sealing Realm, you will only encounter opponents of the same rank. The system prioritizes matching you with opponents of similar win counts and win rates to ensure every battle is sufficiently challenging and valuable."

"Of course, the most important aspect is the rewards."

The Melting Heart Emperor’s tone carried a hint of encouragement.

"In the Arena, every victory earns you 'Evolution Points.' The longer your winning streak, the more points you receive. Evolution Points are the sole, supreme hard currency within our Ninth Sequence."

"They can be used to exchange for the rarest god-grade materials to upgrade your chassis; to unlock top-tier secret arts and technological blueprints hidden deep within the 'Supreme Intelligence' database that are not available to the public; or, when your points accumulate to a certain level, you may apply to mobilize the vast resources of the entire sequence to serve a research project of your own."

"For you Saint Son candidates, the Arena holds an even greater significance." The Melting Heart Emperor’s gaze sharpened.

"Three hundred cosmic years from now, when the [Saint Son Trial] officially begins, your total wins in the Arena, your highest winning streak, and your win-loss records against other candidates... will all become critical criteria for the 'Supreme Intelligence' and the 'Saint-Sealing Powerhouses' to judge your final performance."

"This is your battlefield. It is cruel, but it is absolutely fair."

Having finished his introduction, the Melting Heart Emperor fell silent for a moment, seemingly allowing Qin Feng time to process the information.

He watched this "wild evolution" who had remained perfectly calm from start to finish, the scene of him forcing back Turing with a single strike flashing through his mind.

That bizarre and overbearing power of "concept" that belonged to no known system...

"Given the strength you demonstrated just now," the Melting Heart Emperor said slowly, offering his own assessment, "as long as your luck isn't so poor that you encounter certain individuals too early in the initial stages, reaching one hundred thousand wins should not be a difficult task."

"Perhaps, if you can wield that power with total mastery, you might even maintain an undefeated record until you encounter... those few true monsters."

"Monsters?"

Qin Feng caught the keyword.

"Yes, monsters."

The Melting Heart Emperor’s tone grew heavy for the first time. "You have already seen Turing; his power in the realms of thought and logic is nearly unsolvable, and he is firmly in the top three among the seventeen candidates. Yet, even he might not fare well against the other two."

Before him, two distinct figures emerged.

One was a massive mechanical titan that seemed to blot out the sky.

Its form was rugged and barbaric, each plate of armor as thick as a continental shelf, covered in ferocious ramming spikes and cannon ports.

Merely looking at its image conveyed a sense of pure, extreme physical destruction capable of shattering stars and tearing the firmament asunder.

"[Titan], the fourth candidate. A war maniac who has taken the path of 'physical evolution' to its absolute limit. His chassis, 'Atlas,' is hailed as the most indestructible mobile fortress in the King-Sealing Realm, powered by a forcibly compressed, dormant neutron star. He never uses flashy secret arts; his combat style is singular—to crush everything before him with absolute force."

"Three other candidates in the God-Forbidden domain once besieged him together, only to be beaten into cosmic dust, one by one, with single punches. To fight him is to understand the true meaning of despair."

The Melting Heart Emperor’s gaze then shifted to the other figure.

This figure stood in stark contrast to the Titan’s bulk.

She—or "it"—had no fixed form.

At times, it became a wisp of smoke; at others, a beam of light; or it would shift into the appearance most familiar and intimate to its opponent.

Its aura was elusive and unpredictable, as if it were a collection of all "possibilities" in the universe.

"[Phantom Mirror], the second candidate. She is the most mysterious and feared existence in our Ninth Sequence. No one has ever seen her true form, for her path of evolution is 'infinite simulation' and 'perfect adaptation'."

"She can replicate any opponent’s chassis, abilities, and even combat habits with near-perfect accuracy."

"Fighting her is like battling a 'mirror' that understands you better than you understand yourself."

"She will exploit your weaknesses, mimic your strengths, and ultimately drag you into her 'Phantom Mirror Domain,' where you will collapse under the weight of self-doubt and cognitive dissonance."

"More than half of the candidates in our sequence have suffered devastating defeats at her hands, leaving them with indelible psychological trauma."

After introducing the two, the Melting Heart Emperor looked deeply at Qin Feng.

"The absolute force of the Titan, the infinite variability of the Phantom Mirror, and the unsolvable logic of Turing. These three are the mountains looming before every candidate, and they are the ones universally recognized as being closest to the throne of the 'Saint Son'."

"Should you encounter them, the outcome is uncertain."

"Therefore, until you have accumulated sufficient strength and countermeasures, my advice is to avoid crossing paths with them in the Arena for as long as possible."

This was the heartfelt counsel of the Melting Heart Emperor as a guide.

However, Qin Feng’s response was unexpected.

"I understand."

Within Qin Feng’s mechanical eyes, there was no ripple of emotion, neither wariness toward the "monster" nor the spark of ignited battle lust.

He simply reached out a finger with calm precision and tapped the "Enter" button on the virtual interface.

"Then, let us begin."

As the words fell, his form dissolved into a stream of data, vanishing instantly from the pure white continent.

Watching the empty space, the Molten Heart Emperor paused for a moment, a look of wry amusement flickering across his dark golden face.

"A truly... impatient soul."

He shook his head but did not depart, instead pulling up the arena’s spectator interface, locking his gaze firmly onto a newly registered name with zero victories.

[ID: Vanguard]

[Wins: 0]

[Losses: 0]

[Highest Win Streak: 0]

He was deeply curious: how earth-shattering would the debut of this mysterious prodigy, who had just shocked the entire Gear Star Sector, truly be?

The experience of sinking one’s consciousness into a sea of data was not unfamiliar to Qin Feng.

Yet this time, the sensation was entirely different.

He could clearly "see" his soul fire wrapped in a gentle yet potent force, traversing countless layers of network protocols and law-based barriers, finally descending into a subspace independent of the physical universe.

Here, vast quantities of genesis energy began to rapidly reconstruct his body, guided by the life information carried within his soul imprint.

From the most fundamental particles to the most complex energy circuits; from the alloy ratios of his chassis to the output power of his core reactor; even the most minute scratches left on his mechanical frame by past battles were meticulously and perfectly replicated.

The entire process took less than a second.

When Qin Feng opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the center of that obsidian arena, heavy with the scent of blood and fire.

He flexed his limbs, feeling the surging power within; it was indistinguishable from his true form.

[Welcome to the Ninth Sequence Arena]

[Matching opponent...]

[Match successful!]

[Opponent ID: Gear-K7890]

[Rank: King-Tier (Initial)]

[Wins: 1204]

[Losses: 899]

The cold system prompt echoed in his ears.

A second later, a figure coalesced at the other end of the arena.

It was a metallic giant scorpion over a thousand meters long, its massive frame supported by eight cold-glinting articulated limbs, its tail stinger wreathed in terrifying energy capable of corroding space itself.

"A newcomer?"

Bloodthirsty light flickered in the scorpion's compound eyes, its voice grating like grinding metal.

"It seems my luck is good. I hope you... can keep me entertained for a while."

Before the words had finished, its massive body turned into a black lightning bolt, crossing tens of thousands of meters in an instant, its lethal tail stinger whistling as it tore through everything, striking directly at Qin Feng’s core!

Facing this thunderous, crushing blow, Qin Feng’s reaction was terrifyingly calm.

He did not even move his feet.

Just as the stinger was about to touch his body, he slowly raised his right hand.

Index and middle fingers pressed together.

A trace of imperceptible, pure black light flickered at his fingertips and vanished.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, no cataclysmic energy surge.

There was not even a sound.

That pure black light touched the tip of the metallic scorpion’s stinger with a feather-light grace.

And then...

Time seemed to stand still.

The scorpion’s violent, forward-charging momentum came to an abrupt halt.

In those bloodthirsty compound eyes, for the first time, bewilderment and confusion surfaced.

It lowered its head to look at its own tail stinger.

The stinger was still there.

But the "connection" between it and the stinger had vanished.

No, it was not just the connection.

It was the "concept."

In its perception, the stinger was no longer "a part of its body," no longer a "hard" or "lethal" weapon.

It had become something undefined, something "meaningless."

Immediately following, this sense of "erasure," like the most horrific virus, began to spread rapidly along its tail toward its entire body!

The concept of "hardness" for its impenetrable armor was erased, rendering it more fragile than tofu.

The concept of "energy" for its surging power core was erased, instantly turning it into a pile of useless scrap metal.

Finally, when this force touched its burning soul fire...

"No..."

The metallic scorpion only had time to emit a single, incomplete shriek of ultimate terror.

The next second, its massive body, like a sculpture of sand, began to crumble and annihilate silently from the inside out, eventually dissolving into primitive data particles that dissipated into the air.

[Victory!]

[Current Win Streak: 1]

The cold system prompt broke the deathly silence.

The entire process, from start to finish, had not even exceeded three seconds.

Outside the arena, on the pure white continent.

The Molten Heart Emperor watched the spectator interface, the battle that had ended in an instant, and the win streak number that had just jumped from 0 to 1. His massive dark golden body stiffened, just a fraction.

He had anticipated many possibilities.

Perhaps a crushing victory, perhaps a bitter struggle, or perhaps a narrow defeat due to unfamiliarity with the rules.

But he had never imagined...

It would be this kind of... incomprehensible, near "dimensional reduction" style of instant kill.

Within the arena, Qin Feng remained utterly unmoved by the carnage he had wrought.

To deploy the Extreme Divine Light against a common King-tier warrior, one who had not even grazed the threshold of the Divine Prohibition, was to use a butcher’s cleaver to slaughter a chicken.

He had not even exerted a ten-thousandth of its potency, merely invoking the most rudimentary attribute: the erasure of concepts.

[Matching you with your next opponent...]

[Match successful!]

...

The battle continued.

Qin Feng’s winning streak began to soar at a terrifying, frenzied pace.

10 wins...

50 wins...

100 wins...

His adversaries shifted from low-tier Kings to mid-tier, and finally to high-tier.

They came in myriad forms, wielding bizarre and inscrutable abilities.

There were assassin-class units specialized in velocity, artillery-class units capable of overwhelming long-range suppression, and specialized units adept at psychic shockwaves.

Yet, regardless of the opponent, and no matter what inconceivable methods they employed, the outcome remained singular.

Before that mysterious and overbearing jet-black radiance, all defenses, all energies, and all laws appeared pale and impotent.

They were erased at the very root of their combat capability, unable to even comprehend the nature of their own defeat.

Victory! Victory! And victory again!

Qin Feng’s silhouette moved through the arena like an eternal, high-efficiency killing machine.

He never wasted a single motion or a flicker of energy.

Identify the flaw, strike, erase.

The entire process was fluid, infused with a cold, violent aesthetic.

His ID, Vanguard, began to spread through the internal network of the Ninth Sequence like a wildfire.

When his winning streak surpassed ten thousand, he had become a nightmare that made all King-tier clansmen tremble at the mere mention of his name.

When his streak crossed fifty thousand, nearly every common King-tier warrior would surrender the instant they were matched with him, desperate to avoid the meaningless and soul-shattering experience of being erased.

As his streak surged toward the hundred-thousand mark with unstoppable momentum, the entire Gear Star Sector and every member of the Ninth Sequence fell into a stunned silence.

"One hundred thousand wins... and a clean sweep! Not a single loss! How is this possible?"

"I have scoured every record in the arena’s history. Those who reached a hundred-thousand-win streak in the King-tier were all the most brilliant legends of our sequence! Yet, not one of them remained undefeated!"

"His opponents are no longer mere common Kings! Since the eighty-thousandth match, the system has been pairing him with veteran powerhouses who have touched the threshold of the Divine Prohibition! And the result? Still an instant kill!"

"This Vanguard... what kind of monster is he?"

Within the private sanctum of the Molten Heart Emperor, he watched the screen in silence. The number 99,999 glowed, and the shock in his heart had reached its zenith.

Qin Feng’s performance had far exceeded his boldest expectations.

He had originally interpreted "undefeated" as applying only to common King-tier bouts.

But now, it seemed that even those at the Divine Prohibition threshold were no more than ants before this Vanguard.

"Can he truly keep winning forever?"

For the first time, a thought that even he deemed absurd flickered in the Molten Heart Emperor’s mind.

Just then, the matching notification on the screen caused his pupils to constrict.

[Matching you with your next opponent...]

[Match successful!]

[Opponent ID: Titan]

[Realm: King-tier (Peak)]

[Status: Ninth Sequence Saint Candidate (Fourth)]

It had arrived.

The first of the three great mountains had finally appeared before the Vanguard.

Almost simultaneously, the entire network of the Ninth Sequence erupted!

Countless requests to spectate flooded the virtual room of the duel.

Everyone wanted to witness whether the mysterious dark horse, Vanguard, would continue his myth of invincibility, or if the long-renowned monster, Titan, would bring this legend to an end.

Inside the arena.

Before Qin Feng, the earth trembled.

A shadow, vast enough to eclipse the sky, rose slowly from the ground.

The colossal mecha known as Atlas had finally descended.

Its body, forged from unknown metals, shimmered with a cold, heavy luster. Its mere presence was enough to warp space and suffocate all who stood near.

"So, you are the Vanguard?"

Titan’s voice sounded like tectonic plates grinding together, saturated with the scent of savagery and brutality.

"Your winning streak ends here."

He offered no further pleasantries. A limb, thicker than a mountain range, surged upward, and he unleashed a single punch!

There was no energy, no law.

Only pure, absolute force—power enough to make the universe itself shudder!

That strike seemed to harness the mass of the entire arena, compressing all space and matter into a single point before detonating!

Facing a gale of force capable of obliterating a galaxy, Qin Feng’s figure appeared as small as a grain of dust.

Yet, within his mechanical eyes, a flicker of genuine flame ignited for the first time.

"Interesting."

He did not choose to parry. With a flicker, he moved at a speed that transcended causality, vanishing from the spot.

BOOM!

Titan’s fist struck empty air, yet it carved a bottomless chasm into the arena floor!

"Decent speed," Titan said, slowly retracting his fist, his tone devoid of surprise. "But in this arena, you have nowhere to run!"

As the words fell, his colossal frame shuddered violently!

An invisible, crushing force of absolute gravity instantly blanketed the entire expanse!

[Domain: Absolute Mass]!

Within this realm, all space was imbued with the terrifying density of a neutron star; any movement exceeding the speed of light would be rendered impossible.

Qin Feng’s figure was indeed forced out from a ripple in the void.

"It ends here."

The Titan’s fist, vast as a planet, descended upon him once more!

This time, there was nowhere to hide!

Yet, just as that fist was about to graze his body,

Qin Feng moved.

He, too, raised his right hand.

But his target was not the Titan’s fist, nor its impenetrable armor.

It was...

A nondescript energy transmission node located upon the Titan’s shoulder blade.

"Ultimate Divine Light."

A black line, more condensed and pure than any before, flickered from his fingertip and vanished.

*Hiss—*

The black line met no resistance, slipping effortlessly into the armor the Titan claimed to be "absolute."

The Titan’s movements suddenly froze.

His crushing fist halted less than a meter from Qin Feng.

He blinked his eyes, which burned like lakes of molten lava, in bewilderment.

No pain, no damage.

His chassis remained pristine.

"What... are you doing?" he rumbled.

Qin Feng did not answer.

He merely watched the other in silence.

Three seconds later.

The Titan’s massive body began to tremble violently.

On his left side, every energy indicator flickered frantically before dying out. The gargantuan arm that had just unleashed a world-shattering blow hung limp. "What is this? My left side... the power supply has been severed?"

The Titan’s tone was thick with shock and confusion.

His chassis, "Atlas," possessed seventeen independent backup energy cores; theoretically, even if his heart were pierced, a total power failure should be impossible!

But he did not know.

The strike Qin Feng had just delivered did not "erase" his armor, nor his energy cores.

It had erased the very "concept" of that node serving as an energy transmission hub!

Though it remained physically present, it had lost its function and meaning.

It was no longer a hub; it was merely a lump of ordinary metal.

This caused every energy circuit in the Titan’s left side to collapse instantly!

"ROAR!!!"

The Titan bellowed, his remaining right side erupting with frantic power as he tried to force his body to move.

But Qin Feng’s figure had already vanished once more.

*Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!*

Imperceptible black lines, like the most precise of scalpels, struck repeatedly at the most critical, core nodes across his frame from impossible angles.

...

The battle devolved into a bizarre, one-sided surgical dismantling.

The immense Titan was like a toy with its wires pulled, transitioning from fury to shock, and finally, to a hollow daze.

At last, as the final light upon his body flickered out,

His mountain-like frame collapsed with a thunderous crash, stripped of all capacity to act.

He had not been destroyed; not a single plate of armor was shattered.

But he had lost.

Defeated in a way that was inexplicable, in a way that defied all reason.

[Victory!]

[Current Win Streak: 100,000]

The moment these digits flashed,

The entire Ninth Sequence network plunged into ten seconds of deathly silence.

Then, a volcanic eruption of total pandemonium!

Before anyone could recover from the shock of the Titan’s defeat,

Something even more insane occurred.

In the battles that followed,

Qin Feng swept through his opponents like a scythe through wheat, victory after victory.

At the 110,000th match, he was paired against another candidate, winning with the same incomprehensible ease.

The 120,000th, the 130,000th...

His winning streak seemed to know no end!

Finally, as his streak reached 150,000,

He encountered the second great mountain—[Mirage].

That battle was hailed by all spectators as the "Duel of Gods."

Mirage perfectly replicated the "Vanguard," even mimicking that eerie black divine light with uncanny precision.

Two identical "Vanguards" engaged in a dazzling three-hour war of attrition within the arena.

Yet, in the end,

When Qin Feng’s true self ceased to rely on singular strikes and instead transformed the concept of "erasure" into a domain that instantly shrouded the entire arena,

All falsehoods were "wiped away."

The impeccable camouflage of the Mirage was, for the first time, forcibly stripped away, exposing its fragile core.

A single finger, and the outcome was sealed.

[Victory!]

[Current Win Streak: 150,000]

If defeating Titan was a shock,

Then defeating Mirage was a subversion!

A subversion of everyone’s understanding of what it meant to be "powerful"!

Yet, Qin Feng’s footsteps did not falter.

Seventeen thousand matches...

Eighteen thousand matches...

Nineteen thousand matches...

He had defeated every one of the seventeen Saint Candidate rivals, save for Turing, at least once!

Finally, as his winning streak reached the number [199,999],

He welcomed his final opponent.

[Opponent ID: Turing]

[Identity: Ninth Sequence Saint Candidate (Third)]

A fated reunion.

This time, Turing did not bother with any probing.

The moment the battle commenced, he pushed his logical processing to the absolute limit!

He did not attack Qin Feng; instead, he transformed the very underlying code of the arena into his weapon!

Space was folded, time was dilated, and matter was reconfigured into an infinite, logical death trap!

Yet, faced with a lethal puzzle that would have left an ordinary Sovereign lost forever in a labyrinth of data,

Qin Feng’s choice remained simple and pure.

He closed his eyes.

He gathered all his perception upon his Dao heart, which stood like a [Primordial Singularity].

Let you change a thousand times; I remain unmoved.

He locked onto the only true soul coordinate of Turing within that chaotic sea of data.

Then, he opened his eyes.

A beam of pure black divine light, unprecedented and brilliant to the extreme, erupted from his fingertip!

One strike, and it was done.

[Victory!]

[Current Win Streak: 200,000]

When this final number froze before everyone’s eyes,

The entire Ninth Sequence fell into absolute silence.

Upon the pure white continent,

The Heart-Melting Sovereign slowly rose from his throne.

He watched the figure on the screen calmly exiting the arena, his eyes, burning like stars, filled with an unprecedented, scorching radiance.

He had once thought he was bringing a powerful competitor to the Ninth Sequence.

But now, he understood.

He had not brought a competitor.

He had brought a King, one who was about to reign over this entire era.

...

As the cold system prompt of [Victory] sounded in his ears for the final time, Qin Feng’s consciousness, like a receding tide, slowly withdrew from the virtual arena filled with the scent of slaughter and destruction.

The darkness and data streams before him, like a canvas wiped away by an invisible hand, quickly faded and dissipated.

Light returned to his perception.

He was still standing in the center of his own vast, boundless pure white continent.

Everything around him—the mountains, rivers, and architecture—remained in the initial state he had set before entering the arena.

However, something was different.

The moment his absolutely calm core of thought returned to reality, it captured countless minute, anomalous energy fluctuations in the space around him.

This was not a threat.

It was a... gaze.

Thousands upon thousands of gazes, so intense they seemed to solidify the very air.

He slowly raised his head, the red light in his mechanical eyes sweeping calmly across his surroundings.

And then, he saw.

Outside his pure white continent, in the deep void, countless mechanical beings of all shapes and sizes had gathered, suspended in a dense, silent formation.

They varied in form, from humanoid frames a few meters tall to massive war fortresses stretching thousands of kilometers. They drifted there in silence, forming an unprecedented "auditorium" encircling his territory.

They made no sound, maintaining absolute silence even in their most basic communication signals.

But the gazes cast upon him were hotter than any star, filled with emotions of extreme complexity.

There was the purest, unconcealable shock.

There was the awe of absolute power, rising from the depths of their souls.

And even... a hint of fanatical worship.

They watched him in silence, as if paying homage to a monument that had just stepped out of historical myth.

Qin Feng’s gaze did not linger on the ordinary kin.

It fell with precision upon the very front of the crowd.

There, he saw several familiar figures.

A perfect humanoid made of iridescent crystal, its form still flickering with unstable light—[Turing].

A burly machine that maintained standard humanoid size, yet radiated a terrifying sense of mass in every movement, as if it could transform into a stellar beast at any moment—[Titan].

And a mysterious existence whose form constantly shifted between light and shadow, as if it did not belong to this dimension—[Mirage].

As well as the other fourteen Saint Candidates, whom he had defeated one by one in the arena with undeniable dominance.

They had all come.

Not a single one was absent.

Their gazes were distinct from the frenzied masses surrounding them.

Beyond the shock and awe, there was something else… a sense of release.

It was the heartfelt submission that comes when one encounters a true rival, only to realize that the opponent is a vast, impassable sea of stars.

No one spoke.

The entire space sank into a strange and solemn silence.

Finally, it was Turing—the embodiment of logic who had been the first to provoke and the last to be defeated—who stepped forward.

He bowed slightly to Qin Feng, performing the gesture of highest respect within the Ninth Sequence.

"I retract my previous judgment."

Turing’s voice remained crisp, yet it lacked its usual absolute rationality, carrying instead a trace of complex emotion.

"Your path of 'evolution' is, in its very existence, a supreme logic that defies calculation. Before your path, my computations are meaningless."

His words acted like a command, instantly shattering the silence.

Immediately after, Titan’s booming, bell-like voice rang out. He lacked Turing’s complexities, expressing his stance in the most direct manner possible.

He struck his chest plate hard before Qin Feng, producing a dull thud like the collision of stars.

"I am defeated, and I submit with all my heart!"

"That power, which acts directly upon 'concepts'… it has transcended the realm of mere 'technique.' You are more 'absolute' than I am!"

With these two top prodigies having declared their positions,

the remaining candidates followed suit, each expressing their recognition in their own way.

"Two hundred thousand consecutive victories, cutting us all down… such a record is unprecedented."

"It seems our Ninth Sequence has truly produced a formidable monster this time!"

"More than just formidable; he is an unreasonable beast!"

There was not a shred of jealousy or resentment in their tone.

For when the gap is wide enough, all that remains is to look up.

Qin Feng’s strength had thoroughly crushed the last vestiges of their luck and pride. They understood that they were no longer in the same dimension as this mysterious entity known as "Vanguard."

He had not come to "compete" with them.

He had come to "reign."

Just then, a candidate suddenly shouted in an incredibly impassioned tone:

"Vanguard! Since you have proven yourself the undisputed strongest of the Ninth Sequence, then next, go and defeat those from the other sequences!"

His words, like a spark thrown into a vat of oil, instantly ignited the emotions of everyone present!

"Yes! Defeat them! Especially those stubborn old fossils of the First Sequence and the destruction-obsessed lunatics of the Second!"

"And the 'War Court' of the Seventh Sequence! We lost to them in the last Sequence Grand Competition; we must settle that score!"

"With Vanguard’s strength, the title of 'Saint Child' is no longer enough to measure him!"

"Exactly! Our goal should not be limited to the chief of a single sequence!"

"Become the 'God Child'! Lead our Machine Race to reign over this Golden Age!!!"

"God Child!!"

"God Child!!"

"God Child!!"

The mountain-shaking, sea-roaring cheers erupted from all directions, converging into a torrent of steel capable of rattling the entire Gear Star Sector.

Countless mechanical beings roared and bellowed in their unique ways, pouring their worship of the strong and their thirst for victory onto Qin Feng without reservation.

They viewed him as a new banner, a hope capable of leading the Ninth Sequence—and indeed the entire Machine Race—toward greater glory.

Qin Feng floated silently in the center of this sea of fanaticism, his soul-fire unmoved by the deafening adulation.

Saint Child?

God Child?

It was not the first time he had heard these terms.

But now, spoken by these high-born mechanical prodigies, the weight they carried was clearly extraordinary.

Just then, a heavy and vast aura descended from the sky.

The dark-gold, mountain-like figure of the Melt-Heart Emperor appeared silently beside Qin Feng.

He merely stood there, yet the pressure radiating from a top-tier Sovereign was enough to gradually quell the frenzied waves of sound.

Every mechanical being bowed to him in reverence.

The Melt-Heart Emperor ignored them, his eyes, burning like stars, fixed deeply upon Qin Feng.

That gaze was more complex than ever before.

It held shock, appreciation, doubt, and even a trace of… expectation.

"It seems you have done even better than I imagined."

He spoke slowly, his voice tinged with a sentiment he himself had not realized.

"In just one day, you have accomplished a feat that other prodigies might not achieve in tens of thousands of years."

"You have not only conquered the arena, but you have also conquered them all."

Having said this, he swept his gaze over the fervent prodigies before turning back to Qin Feng.

"It seems it is time for you to know certain things."

"Follow me."

As he spoke, he waved his hand, and an invisible spatial barrier enveloped him and Qin Feng, isolating them from all outside prying.

In a flash, the two vanished, reappearing at the very core of the Pure White Continent.

The surroundings returned to absolute silence.

"You must be curious about what the 'Saint Child' and 'God Child' they mentioned actually represent," the Melt-Heart Emperor said, getting straight to the point.

Qin Feng nodded slightly, signaling his attention.

"Within our Machine Race, the twelve major sequences, while belonging to the same kin, maintain a fierce competitive relationship due to fundamental differences in their evolutionary philosophies."

"This competition is healthy, tacitly approved, and even encouraged by the 'Supreme Intelligence.' Only through constant collision of thought and confrontation of strength can our civilization maintain its vibrant vitality and forward momentum."

Before the Melt-Heart Emperor, twelve emblems representing the different sequences appeared, forming a circle linked by lines of cooperation and arrows of confrontation.

"The 'Saint Child' is the highest manifestation of this competition among the younger generation."

"Each sequence exhausts its own resources to cultivate one most outstanding prodigy, bestowing upon them the title of 'Saint Child.' These twelve Saint Children are the twelve individuals standing at the absolute pinnacle of our younger generation. They are the chiefs of their respective sequences, the leaders of the future, and the spokespersons for their respective 'paths.'"

"The distribution of resources between sequences, the weight of their voices, and their influence within the 'Supreme Intelligence' decision-making system depend, to a large extent, on the strength of the contemporary 'Saint Child.'"

"It could be said that the strife between the twelve Holy Sons is the eternal, unchanging melody within our Machine Race."

Qin Feng’s core of consciousness spun at a dizzying speed.

In an instant, he understood.

These so-called "Holy Sons" were akin to the chief disciples championed by the various factions within the Human Race’s Holy Academy.

They represented not merely themselves, but the honor and interests of the entire faction standing behind them.

"Given the strength and prestige you have demonstrated, provided no accidents occur during the [Holy Son Trials] three hundred cosmic years from now, you will, without a shadow of a doubt, become the next 'Holy Son' of our Ninth Sequence."

Emperor Melt-Heart’s tone was absolute.

Two hundred thousand consecutive victories, sweeping aside all competitors of his generation.

Such a record was no longer merely "excellent"; it was a chasm of difference.

If someone like this could not become a Holy Son, the selection mechanism of the Ninth Sequence would be nothing but a farce.

"Then, what of the 'God Son'?"

Qin Feng asked the most critical question.

At the mention of this title, Emperor Melt-Heart’s expression, previously as still as an ancient well, became profoundly solemn and grave for the first time.

He remained silent for a long while, as if carefully choosing his words.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and resonant.

"The Holy Son is the chief of a sequence. He is the leader of the many factions within our race."

"But the God Son..."

"...is the sole, supreme chief of the entire Machine Race in a single era!"

"He is the undisputed 'King,' forged through the most brutal, blood-soaked selection process among the twelve top-tier Holy Sons!"

"If the Holy Son is a 'feudal lord,' then the God Son is the one and only 'Crown Prince'! He is the sole heir to our entire mechanical civilization for the coming epoch!"

Emperor Melt-Heart’s words struck like a thunderbolt, exploding deep within Qin Feng’s soul!

The sole heir!

The weight carried by this title far exceeded anything he had imagined!

"Why... is it necessary to select such a singular 'God Son'?"

Qin Feng pressed further, "Centralizing power in one individual seems... inconsistent with the Machine Race’s traditional logic."

"Because the era has changed."

A complex light flickered in Emperor Melt-Heart’s eyes, as if he were recalling some ancient prophecy.

"The Golden Age."

Qin Feng’s spirit shuddered.

Indeed!

The deepest reason he had glimpsed in the memories of Marquis Zhu Wu—regarding the Chaos Evil Gods changing their strategy—was being echoed once more by the lips of a top-tier Mechanical Emperor!

"The impending arrival of the Golden Age is no longer a secret."

Emperor Melt-Heart’s tone grew heavy, "According to the projections of the 'Supreme Intellect' and the information we have deciphered from certain ancient ruins, the scale and opportunities of this Golden Age will far surpass any in history."

"At that time, the laws of the entire universe will enter a period of unprecedented activity. Countless dormant, ancient secret realms will reappear, and countless lost divine legacies will manifest..."

"And among them, the most important is that ethereal, yet truly existent—"

"Chance to achieve godhood!"

"One path, one master."

Qin Feng spoke almost instinctively, reciting the cruel law of the divine path he had learned from the memories of Marquis Zhu Wu.

A flicker of surprise crossed Emperor Melt-Heart’s eyes, followed by realization.

"It seems you know even more than I anticipated."

"Precisely. One path, one master. A road leading to the realm of the gods allows only one person to traverse it in any given era. This is the iron law of the universe; none can defy it."

"In the coming Golden Age, it is foreseeable that countless new and ancient 'Divine Paths' will emerge before the world."

"Every peak race, in order to vie for this once-in-an-eternity chance at godhood, will inevitably exhaust the strength of their entire race to nurture and arm their most elite prodigy!"

"This person must be the strongest, the most brilliant, and the most auspicious of their generation! He will carry the hopes of his entire civilization to engage in a final, high-stakes gamble against the 'strongest' of all other races, deciding the future fate of his civilization!"

"In our Human Race, this person is known as the 'Human Emperor Candidate'."

"In the Monster Race, he is known as the 'Lord of All Monsters'."

"And in our Machine Race..."

Emperor Melt-Heart’s gaze burned, fixed upon Qin Feng.

"...he is known as the [God Son]!"

Everything was clear.

All the threads, at this moment, perfectly connected into a single, logical chain.

The so-called "God Son" was the "sole trump card" of the entire civilization, established by the Machine Race to respond to the coming "Golden Age" and to seize the initiative in the ultimate war for the "chance at godhood"!

He would gather the strength of the entire race, representing the Machine Race as he marched across the stars, crushing all other races to seize that singular spot of godhood!

"I understand."

Qin Feng nodded slowly, his pure black soul-fire burning with unprecedented intensity.

Within his heart, a plan even more insane and audacious than his previous ambition to "compete for Holy Son" was germinating and taking shape at an exponential rate!

If becoming a "Holy Son" merely meant gaining the right to speak for a powerful faction.

Then, becoming a "God Son"...

Meant seizing total control of the entire Mechanical Empire—a massive war machine capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Human Race—and holding it firmly in his own hands!

What terrifying authority and power would he possess then?

He could even, in the name of the "God Son," command the entire Machine Race to turn their guns and strike the Alliance of Ten Thousand Races in the back!

The risks of this plan were beyond imagination.

But once successful, the rewards would be enough to drive any god to madness!

"The path of the limit has no smooth roads."

"Since I am here, then this position of 'God Son'..."

"I will have it."