My Sect Ruled Over an Era

Shen Yuan transmigrated.

He became the character he had played for ten years: the Sect Master of the Nine Nether Demon Sect, the Supreme Bone Dao Master, a cultivator at the peak of Tribulation Transcendence, invincible beneath the heavens.

He had forty-nine elders at the Great Ascension stage, three thousand elite disciples, three top-grade spirit veins, and countless ancient cultivation manuals.

Sounds great, right?

But here’s the problem: he was just an ordinary office worker, and all of them had been NPCs he created in his game.

Even worse, those NPCs had all come to life, and their loyalty to him was suffocating.

He casually said, “Mm,” and the Third Elder wrote a ten-thousand-word strategic analysis.

He casually said, “Whatever,” and the First Elder sent troops to wipe out the neighboring sect.

He yawned, and the entire sect went on the highest state of alert.

Shen Yuan: I really just want to keep a low profile and farm!

Disciples: The Sect Master is being modest again! As expected, the Sect Master is unfathomably profound!

The six orthodox sects were watching like hawks, eager to eliminate the demon cultivators and defend the righteous path. The Blood Fiend Demon Sect came to recruit him as a lackey, and the Netherworld Emperor lay sealed on the forty-ninth level, liable to awaken at any moment.

Watching the situation spiral further and further out of control, Shen Yuan held a bowl of tomato-and-egg noodles cooked by Old Bai and sank into thought…

I can’t go on living like this.