The backlash came exactly as Vahn expected.

Azure Dragon Sect did not scream in rage publicly. They did not declare war with banners and trumpets. That was not how a top tier sect survived for tens of thousands of years. Instead, they acted like a wounded serpent.

Quietly. Precisely. And with lethal intent.

Three days after the disappearance of the Black Dragon calamity, a notice spread across Astralis Border Seven, carried by imperial message arrays, mercenary guild boards, and sect communication mirrors.

It was simple.

Cold.

And absolute.

Bounty Notice Target: Crimson Hawk Mercenary Group

Crime: Harboring and aiding a Primordial Void Devourer

Reward: Open-ended

Authorized by: Azure Dragon Sect

Status: Extermination Approved

There was no number attached to the reward.

That alone told everyone how serious it was.

An open-ended bounty meant Azure Dragon Sect was willing to bleed resources endlessly until Crimson Hawk ceased to exist. It was not a hunt. It was a purge.

Within hours, the consequences became visible.

Supply caravans refused to dock at Crimson Hawk territory. Neutral mercenary groups cut off communication. Small factions that once drank alongside them now avoided even speaking their name.

And then came the first strike.

It happened at dawn.

A Crimson Hawk outpost near the southern trade route was attacked by three allied mercenary groups acting under sect authority. They came fast, overwhelming, confident that Crimson Hawk would scatter under pressure.

They were wrong.

Vahn was already waiting.

He did not sit in command halls anymore. He did not hide behind Renka or Zutian. When the enemy arrived, they found him standing alone atop a shattered watchtower, hands clasped behind his back, cloak unmoving despite the storm of spiritual energy around him.

The mercenary leader shouted, his voice amplified by qi.

"By order of Azure Dragon Sect, Crimson Hawk is hereby—"

He never finished.

Vahn raised one hand.

The air collapsed inward.

Not violently. Not explosively.

It simply ceased to exist around the attackers.

Their formations failed instantly. Spirit shields folded like wet paper. Panic erupted as cultivators realized they could not even circulate their qi properly.

Vahn stepped forward calmly.

"Lay down your weapons," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly. "Swear loyalty. Or be erased."

The mercenaries hesitated.

Then one attacked.

But he never reached Vahn.

Void energy snapped shut around his body, compressing him into nothingness. No scream. No blood. Just absence.

The remaining attackers broke.

Some fled.

Some dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.

Vahn did not chase the fleeing ones.

He turned to those kneeling.

"Choose," he said again. "Submission or oblivion."

They chose submission.

An eternal oath was carved directly into their souls, bound by Void law so absolute it terrified even Golden Immortals who later witnessed it. It was not slavery. It was allegiance sealed by fear and survival.

That was the pattern.

Every defeat carried the same choice.

Submission.

Those who resisted were crushed swiftly. Not with cruelty, but with inevitability. Vahn never raised his voice. He never mocked them. He simply stood before them, Void pressure bearing down like an unseen ocean, and asked one question.

"Kneel, or vanish."

Most knelt.

The oaths they swore were not simple contracts. They were Void-bound covenants etched directly into their souls. Betrayal was impossible. Not because Vahn demanded loyalty, but because the Void itself remembered.

Within days, banners began changing quietly across the Eastern Continent. Trade routes once stamped with Azure Dragon sigils now moved under neutral escort. Spirit caravans flowed toward Crimson Hawk strongholds instead of sect warehouses. Information networks shifted allegiance overnight.

Renka watched the transformation with equal parts awe and unease.

"This is not how mercenary groups grow," she said one night, studying a newly updated territorial map. "This is how empires begin."

Vahn did not deny it.

"The Azure Dragon Sect relied on fear and reputation," he replied calmly. "I rely on inevitability."

Zutian let out a slow breath, gripping the table. "You are stripping them without striking the heart."

Vahn nodded. "A beast starves faster when its limbs are taken first."

Far away, within the Azure Dragon Sect headquarters, elders stared at reports they could barely comprehend.

They were not losing battles.

They were losing relevance.

Every strike Azure Dragon Sect launched was met not with annihilation, but conversion.

Assassination squads vanished and returned as loyal operatives. Mercenary groups sent to exterminate Crimson Hawk were dismantled from within and absorbed.

Vahn did not kill unless resistance was absolute.

This confused everyone.

Mercenary culture was built on blood debts. On vengeance. On survival through brutality.

But Vahn was doing something different.

He was building an army.

Renka realized it first.

She stood beside him one evening as reports poured in, eyes fixed on the growing map of influence projected in the air. Crimson markers spread like a living organism across the eastern territories.

"You are not just defending us," she said quietly. "You are restructuring the entire mercenary ecosystem."

Vahn nodded slightly. "Fear fractures. Control consolidates."

Zutian laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I thought I understood ambition. I was wrong."

Within a single week, the impossible happened.

Crimson Hawk was no longer just a mercenary group.

It was a dominion.

Over two hundred Earth Immortals had sworn eternal allegiance. Seven Golden Immortals followed, some willingly, some reluctantly, all bound by oath.

Each brought their own followers.

Each brought resources.

Each brought intelligence.

Vahn reorganized everything.

No chaos. No favoritism.

Clear ranks. Clear chains of command. Clear rewards.

Those who contributed gained cultivation resources. Those who hesitated stagnated. Those who betrayed vanished.

The mercenaries adapted quickly.

They always did.

But this time, they adapted upward.

Crimson Hawk's insignia changed.

The hawk was no longer clutching a blade.

It now grasped a black star.

Fear spread.

And then Vahn went on the offensive.

Not directly.

Not against Azure Dragon Sect headquarters.

That would have been foolish. Even now.

Instead, he targeted their lifelines.

Spirit trade routes in the Eastern Continent began disappearing. Supply warehouses burned down without witnesses. Merchant alliances suddenly defaulted on contracts after their leaders vanished overnight.

Azure Dragon Sect's auxiliary businesses collapsed one by one.

Alchemical pavilions lost their supply of rare reagents. Forge halls found their spirit flames extinguished permanently. Escort caravans were intercepted and converted.

Converted.

That word began haunting sect elders.

Because every loss strengthened their enemy.

Inside Azure Dragon Sect headquarters, panic returned.

Again.

Elder Mo Zhen slammed his staff into the ground, fury finally breaking through his restraint.

"This is unacceptable! He is strangling us without ever attacking our core!"

Another elder snapped back. "Then why are we still hesitating? Deploy more Golden Immortals!"

"Deploy them where?" a third demanded. "Every team we send disappears or submits!"

Silence fell.

One elder spoke quietly. "He is not killing them. He is binding them."

That truth chilled the room.

Golden Immortals could be killed.

But bound ones became weapons.

Mo Zhen's eyes darkened. "Then this is no longer a sect conflict. This is a war of ideology."

A younger elder hesitated. "Should we… inform the Imperial Executor?"

The room went still.

Celestine.

That name was not spoken aloud, but everyone thought it.

Mo Zhen clenched his jaw. "Not yet. If the Empire intervenes, we lose control entirely."

That decision would haunt them.

Back in Crimson Hawk's expanded command hall, Vahn stood before his gathered leaders.

Renka. Zutian. Former mercenary captains. Newly sworn Golden Immortals.

All eyes were on him.

"The Eastern Continent is destabilizing," Renka said. "Azure Dragon Sect is bleeding resources rapidly."

"They will respond more aggressively," Zutian added. "Probably sect alliances."

Vahn nodded. "Good."

The room stilled.

"Fear forces mistakes," he continued calmly. "Mistakes create openings."

One Golden Immortal frowned. "Are we truly going to challenge a top tier sect head-on?"

Vahn looked at him.

"Not head-on," he corrected. "From beneath."

He raised his hand, projecting a massive strategic diagram.

Trade routes. Resource hubs. Minor sect dependencies. Political alliances.

"You see Azure Dragon Sect as a mountain," Vahn said. "I see it as a structure held together by veins. Break enough veins, and the mountain collapses under its own weight."

Renka felt a shiver run down her spine.

This was not brute force.

This was conquest refined.

Zutian laughed quietly. "You were never meant to be a mercenary."

Vahn's gaze hardened slightly. "No. I was meant to build."

Within days, the Eastern Continent changed hands in all but name.

Crimson Hawk controlled trade.

Controlled mercenary labor.

Controlled information.

Azure Dragon Sect still had its headquarters.

But it was isolated.

And starving.

Far away, on a floating platform of pure starlight, Celestine stood alone, gazing at a projection of Astralis Border Seven.

Reports scrolled endlessly.

Void disturbances.

Bound cultivators.

A rising mercenary dominion.

Her expression remained calm, but her fingers tightened slowly.

"A Devourer who builds instead of destroys," she murmured. "How dangerous."

An attendant hesitated. "Executor, should we intervene?"

Celestine shook her head slowly.

"Not yet. I want to see how far he goes."

For reasons she did not understand, a faint unease stirred within her chest.

As if this enemy was not supposed to exist.

As if the Void itself was walking a path it had never taken before.

Back in Crimson Hawk territory, Vahn stood alone at night, overlooking the growing city that now answered to him.

Hundreds of cultivators trained below.

Lights burned.

Life moved.

He felt no triumph.

Only direction.

"This is still small," he thought calmly. "But it is enough to begin."

The Void within him stirred, patient and vast.

The Immortal Realm had stopped seeing him as a disaster.

It had begun seeing him as a ruler.

And that realization would change everything.

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