The Omnipotent System

**Cadmus's voice echoed through the hall, commanding attention,** his eyes locking onto Anderson with the cold authority of a ruler, not a father. His tone was sharp, cutting through the tension that hung thick in the air. "What brings you out of your hiding, brat, and why did you stop us from investigating the surge of energy that has the entire Divine Plane in a frenzy?"

**Anderson didn't flinch under the weight of his father's gaze.** His expression remained cold, serious, and devoid of any familial warmth. His eyes were sharp as he stood tall in the center of the hall, his presence as unyielding as a mountain. The quiet tension in the room seemed to tighten with each passing second.

"I wasn't hiding," Anderson said, his voice low but firm, each word carrying a weight that dared anyone to challenge him. His gaze swept across the hall, briefly landing on each face, his eyes hard as iron. There was no flicker of hesitation, only the raw intensity of his seriousness. "And even if I were in hiding, who or what would I need to hide from?"

**He shifted his stance slightly, squaring his shoulders, his eyes narrowing as they flicked back to his father.** "Should I be hiding from a bunch of True Immortals?" His voice dripped with disdain, though his tone remained measured, controlled. "Or perhaps from Divine Sage cultivators?

Or maybe," he paused, his gaze moving behind Cadmus to the crowd of powerful warriors standing there, their faces tense with suppressed anger, "from those *trashes* behind you?"

**There was a ripple of unease through the gathered crowd,** but Anderson's expression didn't change. He spoke with the same gravitas, every word cutting through the silence. His posture remained rigid, his chin held high as he delivered his next statement with the cold efficiency of a blade.

"If you want to insult me," he continued, eyes narrowing slightly as they locked onto his father's once more, "then do it properly. Not like this."

**The room fell silent again, the tension now nearly unbearable.** Anderson's expression was unwavering, a stone mask of seriousness, devoid of emotion save for the contempt that lingered in his eyes. His body remained still, a pillar of defiance in a hall filled with power.

**His gaze never wavered from his father,** the unspoken challenge between them crackling in the air like a storm waiting to break.

The gathered beastmen and dragons seemed to hold their breath, eyes darting between Anderson and Cadmus, waiting to see how the Dragon King would respond to his son's unflinching defiance. **The weight of Anderson's words hung in the air,** like a hammer waiting to drop.

The hall was wrapped in a palpable tension, every eye locked onto the Dragon King, waiting for his response to Anderson's defiance. The air felt heavy, as if even the walls themselves were bracing for the clash between father and son.

But then, unexpectedly, **a deep, booming laughter broke through the silence.** It wasn't Cadmus, but the first Dragon King—**the legendary Dragon God,** once revered as the strongest genius of his generation across all races. His laughter, rich and full of amusement, echoed through the hall like thunder, shaking everyone from their tense stillness.

**The ancient Dragon King's golden eyes twinkled with mirth** as he leaned forward slightly, his regal posture momentarily relaxed. "Ah, this one truly has the fire of a dragon!" he exclaimed between bouts of laughter, his voice carrying the weight of centuries, yet alight with genuine amusement.

**Cadmus glanced at his ancestor,** a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. **He, too, chuckled softly,** the sharpness in his demeanor fading for a moment. His gaze returned to Anderson, this time with a glint of pride mixed with his lingering amusement. It was as if the tension had shattered in the face of Anderson's audacity, replaced by a recognition of the strength behind his words.

**Soon, the hall was filled with the sounds of laughter,** not just from the Dragon King and the Dragon God, but from the previous Dragon Kings who had ruled before. Each one of them, powerful figures in their own right, joined in the laughter. Their booming voices filled the room, mixing with the crackle of energy that always seemed to follow them.

The atmosphere shifted, no longer hostile but curious and intrigued.

**Anderson remained unflinching,** his face still etched with seriousness. He didn't join in the laughter, but his eyes flickered briefly in acknowledgment. His stance remained firm, as if to say that despite the amusement of the former rulers, his words were not to be taken lightly.

The truth of the matter hung in the air, **unspoken but deeply understood by all.** Anderson wasn't merely boasting—he had the strength to back every word. Since his arrival, none of the Dragon Kings, not even the Dragon God himself, had been able to gauge the depths of his power. They had tried, of course—casting their senses, peering through the layers of his aura.

But no matter how hard they pushed, it was like staring into a void. Anderson's true strength was veiled in an impenetrable shroud.

**The Dragon God's laughter softened into a low chuckle** as he leaned back in his seat, stroking the long, silvery beard that draped over his chest. "You've grown beyond even our sight, boy," he said, his voice now a mix of curiosity and respect. "None of us can see your limits, no matter how hard we try. Truly fascinating."

**Cadmus nodded in agreement,** his laughter subsiding as he looked back at his son. His eyes, sharp and calculating, now held a glimmer of something else—perhaps a recognition that Anderson had transcended the limits of what they thought possible.

"Indeed," Cadmus said, his tone lighter but still carrying the authority of a king. "You're not just speaking out of arrogance, are you? There's substance behind your words." His gaze narrowed slightly. "But tell me, how did you know? About the ruse, the secret realm that's no true inheritance? That's a knowledge passed down only through our bloodline."

**The other Dragon Kings exchanged glances,** their expressions now less amused and more thoughtful. They had all known the truth—the so-called secret realm was a trap, a ruse handed down by the first dragons cast to the Divine Plane. It was a well-guarded secret, passed down from king to king.

Yet here was Anderson, standing in front of them, not only aware of it but bold enough to stop them from pursuing it.

More pressing still was the question that lingered in their minds, **a silent inquiry that flickered behind the eyes of each former ruler:** How had Anderson managed to cultivate beyond the True Immortal Realm, especially while confined to the Divine Plane?

**The hall grew quieter as the laughter faded,** replaced by a heavy, contemplative silence. The tension had shifted, now wrapped in curiosity and perhaps even a hint of awe. No one dared to voice their thoughts, but the question hung in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst.

**Anderson's gaze remained cold,** sweeping over the faces of the gathered dragons. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes briefly flickered with something akin to satisfaction. He knew the weight of his presence, and he wasn't about to explain himself just yet.

**Cadmus leaned forward slightly on his throne, his piercing gaze locked onto Anderson.** The weight of his words settled over the room like a storm brewing on the horizon. The flicker of torches on the palace walls cast shifting shadows across his stern features, deepening the furrows in his brow.

"Since you know about the true nature of the secret realm," he said, his voice low but heavy with authority, "then you must also understand what happens when that gate is crossed." **He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing** as if measuring the weight of the truth that was about to follow.

**Anderson's posture remained unmoved,** but a slight tightening of his jaw betrayed his anticipation. His eyes stayed fixed on his father, unblinking, waiting for the rest of the revelation.

**Cadmus rose from his throne,** his tall, broad frame casting a long shadow over the hall. **His voice deepened, reverberating through the chamber like a slow roll of thunder.** "Anyone who dares pass through that gate will invite beings from the very depths of Hell itself."

**The room stirred at his words.** Some of the gathered dragon kin shifted uneasily on their feet, exchanging wary glances. A few clenched their fists at their sides, their jaws set in grim realization.

**One of the dragons, standing close to the throne, involuntarily flinched,** his scaly hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his sword. His eyes darted toward the massive gates leading to the outside, as though expecting demons to pour through at any moment.

**Cadmus continued, his voice growing more intense,** each word laced with gravity. "They will tear this plane apart. A war will erupt across the Divine Plane, and all of this—" **he gestured grandly to the palace and the world beyond, his hands sweeping the air with a grim finality—** "will be reduced to ash and ruin."

**Anderson's eyes hardened, his face impassive but his gaze sharp as a blade.** He already knew what Cadmus was telling him, but hearing it spoken aloud sent a ripple of tension through his body. **His hands clenched subtly at his sides,** though his expression remained composed, almost indifferent.

**A murmur of unease spread through the hall.** The atmosphere shifted, growing thick with apprehension. Some of the younger dragons, whose faces had earlier shown disdain for Anderson, now looked uneasy, their confidence shaken.

Cadmus, sensing the unease, lowered his voice but spoke with cold certainty, "By the looks of it, those fools are already about to enter. Which means only one thing…"

**He turned his gaze back to Anderson, his eyes gleaming like molten gold in the dim light.** "It is about to begin. The Fight of the Divine Plane."

**For a brief moment, a heavy silence hung in the air.** The words sank in, each syllable like a hammer blow. The dragons around the throne stiffened, and the servants, once moving quietly around the hall, had stopped altogether, frozen in the gravity of the moment.

**Anderson's eyes flickered,** but his face remained unreadable. He could feel the weight of every gaze in the room on him, but he didn't waver. Instead, he stood taller, his presence commanding, like a storm held in check.

"You knew this would happen," **Anderson said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of accusation.** It wasn't a question but a statement, the subtle edge in his tone showing his realization. He wasn't surprised by his father's knowledge, but there was a silent challenge in his words.

**Cadmus met his son's gaze, unflinching.** His lips curled into a thin, grim smile, his eyes still gleaming with the power and calculation of an emperor. "Of course, I did. We all did." **He gestured to the older dragons,** the former kings and rulers who sat quietly, watching Anderson. "The question is... now that you know, what are you going to do about it?"