Golden City

In the distance, numerous luxurious buildings lined the city that was surrounded by tall golden walls. Rays of light reflected off the shiny exterior of the golden walls bedazzling all with its majestic beauty. It was a stunning scene, as if it had came straight out of a movie. This was the City of Gold, or otherwise known as Golden City, the capital of the Sacred Realm. If one was looking to get their hands on anything of value; be it rare elixirs, powerful weapons, or some trustworthy information, they would be urged to first visit Golden City.

Fighting, and flying was prohibited within Golden City for ordinary cultivators, the only way to enter was by paying a toll at one of the four respective entrances: the North, East, South, or West Gate.

Only those that possessed exceptional strength, or an relatively extraordinary background were allowed to fly into Golden City. Else, they shall face the wraith of the Golden Emperor, and the Golden Dragon Platoon.

Yang Zheng arrived at a place not too far away from the West Gate, his long hair waving in the wind. He changed his appearance into that of a burly middle-aged man, masking his cultivation. There was no longer the air of a mysterious expert around him. Yang Zheng now resembled an ordinary rogue cultivator.

At the West Gate, a huge line could be seen. Travelers, merchants, and people of all sorts were waiting for their turn to enter the city. Yang Zheng quickly lined up behind an elderly woman. In a couple minutes, he had almost reached the front of the gate. On the gate, in the middle, he could see the character '西' neatly engraved at the center.

"Next!" One of the guards standing in front of the gate shouted.

The elderly woman before Yang Zheng walked forward. The guards viciously eyed the old woman. She had a gray ponytail, wore plain clothing, and had the cultivation of a 3rd-staged Deity.

"Thirty spirit stones!" said the guard with an evil smirk.

The woman's face turned utterly pale. "T-t-thirty? I only have ten!" She pleaded. For rogue cultivators, thirty spirit stone were considered quite a lot.

"So poor!" the guard snarled. "Get out of here!" shouted the guard, displaying the might of a 2nd-staged Heavenly Deity.

"No! Please, please ! Let me through! I beg you, please, let-" the woman cried.

Yang Zheng shook his head as he watched the pitiful elderly woman get chased away with a sense of helplessness. How many could he help? He was no 'saint'. The world was a place where the strong preyed on the weak. And unfortunately, situations like these were all too common, so most people just ignored it. In face of true strength, nothing else mattered.

"Next!"

Yang Zheng walked over.

The guard gave him a glance. [This...] The guard was inwardly shocked. When he inspected the burly middle-aged man, he found that he was unable to see through his cultivation! There could only be two reasons as to why he could not detect the man's cultivation. Either, he had a special method that allows one to hide his own cultivation, or there was a major distance in strength between the man and himself.

"Can I go now?" Yang Zheng lazily looked at the guard without batting an eyelid.

"Err, just a moment, Sir."

The guard awoke from his daze, politely bowing before he left to get someone with more authority. He shortly returned with a beefy-looking man cladded in black with golden stripes, who had fair skin, dark-brown eyebrows, and matching facial hair. The second the man set his eyes on Yang Zheng, he raised his thick eyebrows in disbelief.

[Who is this man?]

He was a peak-ranked Heavenly Deity! Captain of the 11th division of the prestigious Golden Dragon Platoon! While there would be occasionally be auras whom he could not distinguish, those were all unparalleled geniuses, and famous monarchs! Yet, somehow he could not sense any Qi fluctuations coming from this man in front of him! Not even a silver of Qi! Akin to an ordinary mortal! But how was that possible? A mere mortal in the Sacred Realm?! It was unheard of. The captain was at a bit of a loss. Should he let him go, or request for assistance?

Meanwhile, Yang Zheng was getting annoyed. Did it always take this long to get in the city through the four gates? Back then, he had always flew right into the city instead. Regrettably, because of some unique circumstances now, he could no longer do so. At this very moment, he wished he could just fly in right now.

"So, can I go now?" said Yang Zheng impatiently, as he released a bit of his Qi. He decided to exert some pressure to speed things up as this had taken far too much of his time.

The captain who was stuck on between whether or not to call for assistance was startled. All of the sudden, he found it extremely difficult to breathe, his body felt heavy, and his insides were clamping up. The color was slowly being drained out of his face. In no time, his back was covered in cold sweat as he hurriedly nodded his head.

"Y-yes! M-m-most certainly, my Lord!" He stuttered, quickly signaling for his men to open the gate.

Yang Zheng smiled. He silently concealed his Qi once again, and withdrew his pressure before dawdling on through.

After the pressure was lifted, the captain began gasping for air. A tinge of pink could be seen returning to his colorless face. He stared at the passing back in fear, barely recovering from the trauma earlier.

[That seemingly ordinary man was an esteemed Godly Monarch! If that man wished take his life...] He shuddered at the very thought. [Not even the upper echelons would offend that man to save him!]