Immortality Starts From Making Money.

"What do you say?"

The woman's voice hung in the air like a blade unsheathed. Cold, firm, and unyielding. But the silence that followed was even sharper.

"T-They've killed all our families…"

The quivering response came from the oldest of the elders, a man whose face once radiated wisdom, now twisted by grief.

His voice cracked, frail and trembling, as though the very act of speaking caused him pain.

Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not out of pride—but because his heart was already too shattered to produce more.

The hall fell into a tense hush.

The woman sat frozen for a moment, as if her breath had been sucked from her lungs.

Then, slowly, as if the weight of their words threatened to collapse her spine, she rose to her feet.

Her legs trembled slightly beneath her long robe, and her arms dangled uselessly at her sides.

Her lips parted. No words came.

She stared at the three elders—loyal, unyielding, and now utterly devastated.

Her gaze lingered on each of their faces: the hollow eyes, the clenched jaws, the grief that radiated off them like heat from a fire.

The pain in their expressions struck her deeper than any blade could.

And then it hit her—like a hammer against the chest.

She had underestimated the Thousand Wealth Chamber.

Perhaps… no, certainly, if she hadn't, their families wouldn't be lying in pools of blood across the regions.

A storm of guilt, rage, and disbelief churned inside her. She swallowed hard, her voice low and solemn.

"Their deaths… won't be in vain. I promise you."

She thought those words would soothe them. Ease their burden. Offer something—anything—to keep the foundation from crumbling.

But instead, a bitter laugh shattered the silence.

"Hahahaha! Do you hear that?" one of the elders barked from the left. His voice was dry, cracked—on the verge of madness.

His shoulders shook, not with laughter, but with rage barely restrained. "Our families died, and she says they won't be in vain!"

He stepped forward, eyes bloodshot, veins bulging across his forehead. His face twisted with something darker than grief. A hatred so raw it could ignite the entire hall.

He had lost everything. His wives. His children. Generations erased in a single night of fire and steel.

And this woman—this leader they once followed without question—dared to speak as if it was just a footnote in their struggle?

"If we had known you'd bring doom to our doors," he growled, "we would not have sent those messages"

His voice rose, octave by octave, filled with fury unbound. He pointed a shaking finger at her, jabbing the air like a dagger. All traces of reverence were gone.

"You talk about vengeance? About justice? What about the price we paid, you arrogant fool?!"

His aura surged—sharp and hot, leaking out with every word. The sheer force of his emotions made the air buzz with tension.

"We warned you! We begged you! The Thousand Wealth Chamber isn't like the other force. We told you to negotiate—but no. You spat on our concerns. You laughed in our faces!"

He clenched his fists, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

"You wanted to play god just because you reached the Golden Core Realm. You thought the world spun on your finger!"

Each accusation was like a hammer blow, echoing through the great stone hall.

"And look what that arrogance cost us! Look!" His hands swept outward as if presenting the ruins of their lives.

"Our families were slaughtered in cold blood, accused of colluding with the evil sects. Branded as traitors to all humankind! And for what?"

His eyes locked on hers, blazing with betrayal.

"For your greed?!"

His voice thundered, spilling into the courtyards beyond. Even the wind outside seemed to falter.

The woman's face darkened. Her jaw clenched. "What do you mean? Stop spewing nonsense before I shut your mouth!"

The audacity. The ingratitude.

They had supported the plan.

They had voluntarily sent the message to the central region.

Don't they dare claim to be innocent.

She was shaking—not from fear, but from barely contained rage.

If the plan had worked, these same men would have danced in glory, basked in rewards.

They weren't victims—they were co-conspirators. She knew their game.

They had wanted to use her power as a knife, hoping the Thousand Wealth Chamber would bleed before the blade ever touched their hands.

But the chamber hadn't followed the script.

And now they dared to blame her?

She struggled to hold her fury down. She was the leader. She had to find a way through this.

But the elders had long since passed the point of reason.

"Shut my mouth?!" The elder barked.

His eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing to slits.

"Try it then!"

With a roar, his aura exploded outward. The force of it cracked tiles underfoot and sent tapestries fluttering.

The pressure of a Half-Step Golden Core cultivator slammed into the room.

The atmosphere shifted.

The woman froze, her breath caught in her throat as the words of the elder echoed through the hall.

For a fleeting moment, disbelief clouded her expression.

Then, like fire igniting dry grass, fury burst onto her face—raw, scorching, and merciless.

How dare they?

She had tried to maintain control, tried to salvage something from the wreckage of the plan.

But these men—these ungrateful, short-sighted fools—had chosen to spit in her face when she needed them to hold the line.

Even her husband, a man feared across cities in the central region, wouldn't dare speak to her in such a tone.

"You want to be unreasonable?" she muttered, her voice trembling with seething wrath.

"Fine. I'll show you why even demons fear my name."

Whoosh!

A terrifying burst of golden light exploded from her body as she released the full might of her cultivation.

The oppressive aura of a Stage 2 Golden Core cultivator erupted like a tidal wave, shattering every object in the room.

Scrolls burst into flames. Jade ornaments cracked. Wood splintered into dust. The air itself seemed to groan and tremble under the sheer pressure.

The three elders stumbled backward, eyes wide, blood draining from their faces.

A suffocating force pressed against their chests like an invisible mountain.

Their hearts pounded violently, lungs straining for breath.

Sweat beaded down their wrinkled foreheads. Her presence had become a storm, merciless and unforgiving.

There was no going back now.

A bitter fire lit in the eyes of the old men. Grief twisted into hatred.

Hatred into resolve.

If they were to die—if the Thousand Wealth Chamber would eventually raze them to the ground—then they would at least take down the one who started it all.

They would find solace in vengeance.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two more powerful auras erupted like geysers.

The remaining elders cast off any pretense of submission.

The pressure in the room intensified further as their Half-Step Golden Core cultivation clashed against hers.

Sparks of spiritual energy crackled mid-air. The entire building groaned, as though warning of the impending destruction.

From the outside, the change was immediate.

A terrifying silence descended upon the lower floors of the new Seven Talisman Trade Hall.

Then came the dreadful chill.

Attendants and servants froze in place, their skin crawling as oppressive waves of energy washed over them.

Some clutched their chests, gasping.

"Wh-What is going on up there?" a pale-skinned woman asked in a trembling voice, her eyes darting toward the ceiling as faint rumbles echoed through the beams.

The bald, pot-bellied manager swallowed hard, shaking his head. "How would I know?"

Around them, the once orderly servants began to murmur in panic.

The hall was no longer a place of commerce and refuge. It had become a pressure cooker of fear.

"Should we escape?" a young man whispered, trying to hide the panic in his voice. "Staying here might get us killed."

They all looked at one another, the same thought mirrored in each gaze. Yet no one moved.

Where would they even run to?

The Thousand Wealth Chamber had eyes in every alley, killers in every shadow. No sect would take them in now, not after what had happened.

And if they tried to escape... could they even make it out of the city alive?

Still, staying felt like waiting for a blade to pierce their throat.

The silence stretched.

Tension clawed at their lungs.

Then—

"I don't care anymore!"

A girl bolted from the side of the hall, eyes wild with terror. Her voice cracked, fear oozing from every syllable.

Her feet slapped the polished tiles as she sprinted for the door.

Gasps echoed behind her.

No one moved to stop her.

The hall stood still.

"She's gone..." someone whispered.

"W-We…" The manager began, but before he could finish, a second group surged forward, chasing after the girl like startled deer fleeing a wildfire.

Then it came—a horrifying shockwave from above.

The entire building shuddered as if struck by a thunderclap. Walls cracked. Dust rained from the ceiling.

The battle had begun.