The Omnipotent System

"The Valley Masters are now complete, I guess it is time they know the true power of the Primordial Chaos Sect."

The disciples of the sect whispered nervously among themselves as they took in the lineup of their masters, each one bearing an expression that promised anything but mercy. The tension in the arena was almost unbearable, a suffocating blanket of fear that hung over everyone present.

Anderson, his flaming red hair flickering like a burning flame, stepped forward with deliberate slowness. His presence alone seemed to draw all attention, and the murmurs among the disciples hushed into a tense silence.

He approached the celestial, his gaze unwavering, and stopped right in front of him. The sheer intensity of his aura made the air crackle around him. Anderson leaned in slightly, his voice low and controlled, yet carrying an edge that cut deeper than any blade. "Care to repeat your words again?" he asked, each syllable deliberate and cold.

The celestial, who had been brimming with rage moments ago, now felt a cold dread settle in his gut. His confidence crumbled as Anderson's words sank in, and the oppressive aura of the other masters pressed down on him like a vice.

He and the man who had started all of this felt their stomachs twist in terror, the urge to flee overwhelming, but their legs were frozen in place, trembling uncontrollably.

In that moment, both realized they were in far deeper trouble than they had ever imagined.

The celestial's earlier bravado had all but evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of dread as he found himself surrounded by the overwhelming presence of the Valley Masters. The weight of their combined auras pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable. His heart pounded in his chest, and a cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.

He took a shaky step back, his eyes darting from Anderson to the other masters who were now watching him with cold, unyielding stares. The reality of his situation crashed down on him, and the confidence he once had seemed laughable in the face of such power.

His voice quivered as he stammered out a desperate plea, his words faltering under the pressure. "W-wait... you... you don't understand," he began, his gaze shifting nervously between the masters. "I am... I am close to one of the Ten Commandments...

one of the supreme beings. If you... if you harm me, it will bring doom upon your sect! You must know this... If you value your lives, if you value your sect, you'll let me go!"

The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, his attempt to invoke the name of the Ten Commandments betraying his fear. He hoped—prayed—that the mention of such a powerful being would give them pause, that it might save him from the wrath he had so foolishly provoked.

But as he spoke, the silence of the arena grew heavier, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. The disciples held their breath, waiting to see how their masters would respond. The celestial's plea hung in the air, desperate and hollow, as the Valley Masters exchanged glances, their expressions unchanged.

Anderson's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he took in the celestial's pitiful attempt to save himself. The air around him seemed to grow hotter, the flames of his hair burning brighter as he leaned in closer.

"One of the Ten Commandments, you say?" Anderson's voice was mocking, a dangerous edge underlying his words. "And you think that will save you? You're in the Primordial Chaos Sect, where the power of titles and threats holds no weight. If you believed you could scare us with that, you're sorely mistaken."

The celestial's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in terror as Anderson's words sank in. The reality of his situation was undeniable now; he was in far deeper trouble than he had ever imagined, and there would be no easy escape.

Jack leaped from his seat, landing with effortless grace directly behind the celestial. His movement was so fluid, so precise, that it barely made a sound, yet it commanded the attention of everyone in the arena. The celestial stiffened, a cold chill running down his spine as he felt Jack's presence looming behind him.

Jack casually placed a hand on the celestial's shoulder, his grip firm but deceptively gentle. "Just like Grumpy Face over there said," Jack began, his tone light, almost conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. "Threats don't work around here." His voice, though calm, held a dangerous undercurrent that sent shivers through the celestial.

"But," Jack continued, leaning in slightly, his smile widening into something far more sinister, "that's not why I'm here. I'm just curious—who exactly are these 'Ten Commandments' you're so proud of? That's all I want to know." His smile grew even more terrifying, a sharp contrast to the casual tone of his words, and the celestial couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread creeping over him.

The celestial's stomach churned with unease, the bad feeling in his gut intensifying with each passing second. He realized too late that he had underestimated just how dangerous these people were—and now, there was no escaping the consequences.

The celestial, trembling under Jack's grip, opened his mouth to respond, desperate to appease the terrifying figure behind him. But before he could utter a word, a sudden shift in the atmosphere made everyone pause. The air seemed to grow thicker, heavier, as if a new presence had entered the arena.

The sound of hooves echoed through the silence, a rhythmic, almost ominous cadence that sent a shiver down the spines of all present. Slowly, the crowd parted, making way for the newcomer. Riding in on a majestic steed, clad in armor that gleamed with an ethereal light, was Gareth—known as the Horseman of Conquest.

His presence alone was enough to command respect and fear, the very embodiment of victory and dominance.

The celestial's heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto Gareth. He knew instantly that this was not someone to be trifled with. His earlier defiance crumbled into dust, replaced by a paralyzing fear that rooted him to the spot.

Gareth dismounted with practiced ease, his every movement purposeful and controlled. He strode forward, his eyes never leaving the celestial, who now seemed to shrink under the weight of his gaze. The clinking of his armor with each step was the only sound in the arena, amplifying the tension that hung thick in the air.

Jack, still standing behind the celestial, offered a casual nod in greeting, his earlier amusement now tempered by the seriousness of Gareth's arrival. "Well, this just got interesting,"

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