Instant kill.
It only took a few seconds for Wilson to eliminate his opponent.
The entire island fell into stunned silence.
Everyone was frozen in place.
He was Venerable Realm!
A powerhouse many admired and looked up to—shattered like a piece of paper.
Wilson hadn't come just to stir up trouble.
He dared to challenge the Oracle King because he had the strength to back it up.
Today, Britain's Soul Realm made its name known to the world.
After a few moments of shock, the crowd erupted in a frenzy of excitement. All eyes turned toward the looming clash between Britain's Soul Realm warrior and the United States' Oracle King.
Outside of the U.S. and its allies, many countries were secretly hoping to see Wilson defeat the Oracle King—right here on this island.
It was a battle between a rising god and a reigning god.
A moment destined to be recorded in the annals of history.
The Americans present were torn between disbelief and rage.
Just like the fallen Venerable Realm warrior, many had been deeply dissatisfied with Wilson's arrogance—especially his blatant disrespect for the King of Horizon.
Majesty King was sacred. He could not be defiled.
That Venerable Realm fighter had done what every American there had wanted to do—step up and crush Wilson's arrogance.
Unfortunately…
He failed.
Instead of humbling Wilson, his defeat only fueled the man's swagger.
The foreign crowd was thrilled—especially the British.
They'd always been resentful of America's growing strength, and now they saw an opportunity to deliver a blow to U.S. dominance.
If Wilson could kill the Oracle King, it would shake America's standing to its core.
Day one passed.
Oracle King did not appear.
No word came from the Ministry of the Oracle Palace either.
Everyone waiting on the island was tormented by the silence. Still, with two days remaining, they clung to patience.
This was an unprecedented duel. It was worth the wait.
Day two.
Still no sign of the Oracle King.
The anticipation turned to unease.
Day three.
The morning passed quietly.
Still no Oracle King.
The crowd began to stir with anxiety. Had he forgotten? Or worse—was the announcement that he had accepted the challenge a lie?
Impossible.
The declaration had come from the highest authorities in the U.S.—it had to be real.
A reporter asked Wilson during an interview, "Mr. Wilson, how are you feeling now?"
Wilson sneered. "Ha! I've given the Oracle King time. But he doesn't dare to show up. After seeing my strength, he must be hiding somewhere like a coward."
"Bullshit! Our Majesty King would never be afraid of you!"
The retort came swiftly from one of the Americans, furious with Wilson's mockery.
"Who said that? Come stand in front of me if you've got the guts!" Wilson growled.
He scanned the crowd with sharp, piercing eyes that made everyone shrink back involuntarily. The image of the Venerable Realm warrior's shattered head flashed through their minds, sending a chill through their bones.
Wilson sneered again. "Cowards. Every one of you. It's in your blood—engraved in your ancestors' bones."
"What did you say?!"
That insult completely ignited the fury of the Americans.
A man stepped forward. "You may be powerful, but we are not cowards!"
"That's right! We're not afraid! Kill us if you think you can!"
One after another, Americans stepped out—first one, then a second, then a third. Within moments, over 90% of the U.S. citizens present were standing, glaring at Wilson with unyielding eyes.
Even the American reporter interviewing Wilson tossed aside his microphone and said, "Mr. Wilson, show some damn respect!"
Wilson let out a low, mocking laugh. "Wonderful. You've impressed me. So brave, are you? Let's see how long you can last…"
His voice suddenly turned cold.
"Kneel!"
With that roar, a terrifying wave of pressure erupted from Wilson's body.
Of course, he couldn't kill all the Americans here.
Though they were on international waters, many of those present were ordinary civilians. Killing them would be no different than sparking a war between nations.
The grudges of the martial world should not spill into the mortal world.
That was the unbreakable rule.
Even a Soul Realm expert like Wilson had to abide by it.
But not being able to kill didn't mean he couldn't humiliate.
He wanted to see every single American here on their knees.
Plop! Plop! Plop!
As soon as the pressure hit, people began collapsing to their knees one after another. Whether they wanted to or not—they had no choice.
They were just ordinary people. How could they resist such overwhelming force?
Even seasoned martial artists couldn't hold out for long against the crushing aura. Let alone civilians. Their knees slammed to the ground uncontrollably.
Kneel.
Everyone trembled.
But it wasn't fear that made them shake—it was rage.
They would rather die than be degraded like this!
But under Wilson's pressure, even dying felt out of reach.
He had gone too far.
Majesty King…
Where are you?!
All around them, foreign spectators sneered and laughed, reveling in the scene.
It was exhilarating.
They'd never witnessed such utter humiliation on a global stage.
"Ha! Look at these so-called brave Americans… Kneeling like dogs!"
And then—
A thunderous voice exploded in everyone's mind.
"A clown with genetic modification? Do you really think our country is vincible?"
It was like a roar from the heavens.
A tall, imposing figure appeared on the surface of the sea—wearing a dragon-head mask.