Outside the door, a fierce blizzard howled.

  Jiang Li stood clad in silver armor, the frozen blood still clinging to its surface. He cupped his hands in respect, bowing low with a solemn expression.

  The last time he'd mentioned retiring from the battlefield and returning to the fields, Yuwen Xiu had thrown him straight into prison.

  What about this time?

  How would Tantai Xuan handle it?

  Jiang Li's mind churned with these thoughts.

  Tantai Xuan gazed at Jiang Li for a long while before finally breaking into a relaxed smile.

  "Brother Jiang, you must be exhausted."

  Tantai Xuan sighed. As an heir to the Military School, Jiang Li had always upheld its glorious traditions, but Tantai Xuan could see through him—the man was inherently lazy at heart. He craved peace and tranquility.

  He'd rather sit quietly on a small stool, sipping a bowl of delicious chicken soup.

  Yet reality denied him that leisure. He had to become a war god, command vast armies, and fight for the Military School's honor.

  Jiang Li hadn't expected Tantai Xuan to ask such a question and froze for a moment.

  "This subject... is not tired."

  "That's nonsense. If you're tired, just say so—there's no shame in it..."

  Tantai Xuan patted Jiang Li's shoulder and straightened him up from his bow.

  "If you want to retire and farm, then do it. This king won't stop you. That string in your heart has been pulled too tight for too long—it needs to loosen."

  Tantai Xuan spoke earnestly.

  "Go on, pack your things and get some proper rest."

  He might look like a rough brute, but Tantai Xuan was surprisingly attentive.

  Jiang Li stood stunned, never imagining Tantai Xuan would let him go so easily.

  The next conflict was with Xiliang Kingdom, and given Great Xuan's forces, they'd be utterly crushed. Victory seemed impossible.

  Jiang Li's value in that fight was beyond words. Any other ruler would never willingly let him walk away.

  But Tantai Xuan did it anyway.

  Not just as a sovereign, but as an old friend.

  Jiang Li said nothing. A thousand words dissolved into a single deep bow.

  Tantai Xuan smiled.

  Jiang Li turned and stepped out of the room. The snow fell cold as crystal, swirling through the air and blurring the world.

  Tantai Xuan watched as Jiang Li's figure gradually vanished into the storm.

  Not long after, Mo Beike appeared.

  "Grandmaster."

  Tantai Xuan nodded at the sight of him.

  "Is Your Majesty truly letting Jiang Li go?"

  "Great Xuan with Jiang Li versus without him—the difference in strength is at least thirty percent," Mo Beike said.

  The title of War God was no empty boast.

  "What, you think I shouldn't?" Tantai Xuan glanced at him. "You can't force a melon to ripen sweetly."

  "This king is already overjoyed that Jiang Li helped us conquer Zhou."

  Mo Beike chuckled, the deep wrinkles on his ravined face twitching.

  Beneath his heavy eye bags, his gaze fixed deeply on Tantai Xuan.

  "Your Majesty mustn't lose heart. Ju has been gone so long—he must be out seeking aid for you."

  "Seeking aid?"

  Tantai Xuan paused.

  He recalled that bloodstained letter and shook his head with a smile.

  "Forget it... let him be."

  He'd torn up the letter, but denying any rift would be a lie. During the Zhou campaign... Mo Ju truly hadn't been there.

  Perhaps Mo Ju had foreseen something and slipped away quietly.

  Thinking of Mo Ju still darkened Tantai Xuan's mood. He'd trusted the man completely—his closest confidant, his strategist, his pillar.

  And yet...

  Mo Ju turned out to be from the Confucian School, a piece placed by Great Zhou's State Teacher, Kong Xiu.

  Though Mo Ju had never acted against him.

  It still left a knot in Tantai Xuan's chest.

  He hadn't told Mo Beike about Mo Ju's true identity.

  "Strength... If this king had the Overlord's power, what would there be to fear?"

  Tantai Xuan lamented.

  "In this era of cultivators, strength reigns supreme... If this king truly holds power, I'll proclaim to the world the founding of Great Xuan Academy, letting people specialize in cultivation from childhood."

  "The more powerhouses we nurture, the more secure Great Xuan becomes!"

  This was his vision for the future. The age belonged to cultivators; for Great Xuan to endure, it needed more mighty experts to anchor it—even serving in court. Only then could it stand firm in the tide of history.

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  Tantai Xuan and Mo Beike talked for a long time.

  Outside, the snow grew heavier.

  ...

  Jiang Li shed his silver armor.

  Without telling a soul, he slung a pack over his shoulder and slipped quietly from the camp.

  He leaned against the thick, battle-scarred city wall, its mottled stone whispering tales of countless wars.

  He'd joined the army at twelve; now at thirty, eighteen years had vanished on the battlefield. Leaving stirred undeniable reluctance.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow.

  Jiang Li turned in surprise to see a familiar graceful figure.

  Chi Lian stood with her own pack, defiant in the blizzard, snowflakes dotting her long lashes.

  "Wherever my lord goes, Chi Lian follows."

  Jiang Li smiled. He didn't order her to stay—she'd been his subordinate once, and of all his old troops, only she remained.

  "Come on, let's find Qingniao. I miss her chicken soup."

  Jiang Li rose from the wall.

  Chi Lian's eyes lit up. She swayed forward, her slit skirt revealing glimpses of pale legs.

  The two descended the wall under the puzzled stares of the guards.

  They melted into the vast white expanse, vanishing beyond Yuan Chi City's gates, trudging north toward Beiluo City.

  ...

  Mount Buzhou.

  Mo Ju wore a crane-feather cloak, clutching a jar of Zhuyeqing bamboo liquor in each hand.

  He climbed from the base, the peak towering high. It took half a day to reach midway.

  But he pressed on. Li Sansi had promised: complete this favor, and he'd aid Great Xuan against the Overlord.

  Mo Ju knew it was their only hope.

  Seeking a match for the Overlord in White Jade Capital? Unrealistic...

  He didn't think he could sway its disciples anyway.

  Besides, Tantai Xuan had suffered so much at White Jade Capital's hands—why would they help Great Xuan?

  Exhaling a plume of hot breath, Mo Ju continued upward.

  At last...

  He reached the summit.

  It was like stepping into a mortal paradise.

  Flowers bloomed in riotous color, spring eternal.

  The peak held its own world: winter's barren death at the foot, March's painted beauty above.

  A melodious flute drifted through the air.

  Mo Ju froze. It was the same tune Li Sansi played, but worlds apart in quality.

  If comparing...

  Li Sansi's was utter rubbish.

  The serene notes calmed the soul, steadying Mo Ju's panting breath. He shook his head involuntarily.

  As the piece ended, he spotted a young girl on a bluestone slab.

  The air suddenly turned murderous and sharp, an invisible hand clamping his throat.

  Cold sweat beaded and trickled down Mo Ju's forehead.

  "Y-Young... miss..."

  He forced the words out.

  The girl turned slowly, revealing a flawless face—skin smooth as blown glass, but eyes tightlyily shut, as if sealed by some eerie taboo.

  Her long lashes quivered.

  She seemed about to open them.

  Boundless death enveloped Mo Ju; faintly, he sensed a colossal beast staring him down.

  Terrifying!

  No wonder that coward Li Sansi wouldn't come up—afraid of a beating.

  This girl was beyond frightening!

  "A friend asked me to bring you two jars of wine. He said he worried you'd get bored without any..."

  "That friend also told me to remind you: sip it slowly..."

  Mo Ju, suspended in air, blurted out.

  But before he finished, the girl deftly popped one jar's seal and downed it in a single gulp.

  One jar... one swallow.

  Mo Ju gaped.

  Are you a walking wine vat?

  With the jar emptied, the oppressive force vanished.

  Mo Ju exhaled and collapsed onto the peak.

  His back was drenched in cold sweat—he couldn't say when.

  "You can go. Tell him not to send more. If Dad finds out, he'll get a thrashing."

  The girl's voice was crisp.

  Mo Ju blinked. Li Sansi was a Body Storage realm cultivator—what was this "Dad" who could thrash him?

  He stood, brushed dust from his cloak, and cupped hands toward Zhulong, who cradled the second jar, her pert nose twitching at the seal.

  "Don't worry, miss. My friend is a top-tier cultivator of our age. If he can't win a fight, he can at least run."

  Mo Ju laughed.

  Zhulong's closed-eyed face tilted up. Though blind, Mo Ju felt thoroughly scorned.

  Her expression screamed "looking at an idiot."

  "If Dad wants to hit him, he couldn't escape to the ends of the earth."

  Zhulong said.

  Then she fell silent.

  Hugging the jar, she sat quietly on the bluestone.

  Mo Ju swallowed, glancing at the scattered white bones atop the peak. A chill crept up despite the spring warmth.

  It should have been idyllic: eternal spring, bluestone, girl—like a scroll painting.

  But those bones twisted it into something eerie and horrifying.

  Mo Ju didn't linger. He bowed to Zhulong.

  Then descended Mount Buzhou.

  He started slow, but a ghostly wind at his back quickened his pace—from walk to jog to sprint, cloak flapping.

  Zhulong sat serene on the bluestone. The peak bloomed eternal spring, beautiful yet lonely.

  She raised a pale hand. From a dark cavern, a peach petal drifted out.

  On it: a crystalline blue droplet, pulsing with immense spiritual energy.

  Zhulong smiled happily, lips pursed.

  She broke the seal, tipping the droplet into the jar.

  The mouth glowed faintly; the liquor shimmered.

  Zhulong lifted it, ready to chug.

  But she reconsidered, sipping daintily on the bluestone.

  The petal she tucked into her thick hair, as if smiling at the summit breeze.

  ...

  Beiluo Lake.

  Spiritual energy swirled; faint dragon roars echoed low.

  Lu sat in his Thousand Blade Chair, finally completing the "Mortal Bureau" on the board. The vengeful souls on the Dragon Pearl Golden Core faded, transcended.

  Lu held the pearl. Now it gleamed true gold—a genuine Dragon Pearl Golden Core.

  A golden dragon soul hovered around it.

  Lines danced in Lu's eyes. The spiritual pressure board manifested mountains and lakes.

  He reached out, plucking the dragon soul like a tea leaf.

  Into the board it went.

  Roar!

  The dragon's bellow shook the landscape.

  "This is imperial dynasty dragon qi. With Great Zhou's fall, it splits in two: one for Xiliang, one for Great Xuan."

  Lu's white robes fluttered, ethereal as an immortal.

  His voice carried strange dao resonance.

  Above, the plane's origin flickered faintly.

  As if echoing his words.

  Boom!

  The dragon soul divided into two golden streams of imperial dragon qi, surging into the board and flying toward distant lands.

  Lu raised a hand, slender fingers pinching a chess piece.

  It fell gently.

  Plop.

  Like a lock securing the qi.

  One locked Xiliang, one Great Xuan.

  The final contest over the dragon qi? Lu left that alone.

  Dragon qi strife meant dynasty fortune's clash.

  This was the temple hall battle of the cultivator era.

  ...

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  That day, heavenly anomalies descended.

  Above Yuan Chi City, a golden dragon coiled.

  Soldiers gawked skyward at the majestic, powerful, noble beast.

  Tantai Xuan and Mo Beike rushed out.

  Stunned by the sight.

  The dragon circled, then with a piercing cry, dove straight into the shocked Tantai Xuan.

  An invisible blast staggered Mo Beike back three or four steps.

  "What was that?"

  Mo Beike trembled in awe.

  He stared at Tantai Xuan, who now exuded an aristocratic aura.

  As if... he embodied kingship more than ever.

  Tantai Xuan blinked in confusion. Immortal destiny?

  Was it?

  His first intimate contact with it?!

  Golden dragon nobility!

  Mo Beike's excitement surged.

  He wasn't a diviner, but no qi-gazing was needed—Tantai Xuan glowed with golden light.

  Mo Beike knelt in reverent thrill.

  Not just him—the entire army in Yuan Chi City bowed.

  The Imperial Capital.

  Similar phenomena.

  The Overlord stood on snow-covered ground, gazing at the writhing golden dragon. It plunged into him, his body flashing gold.

  After a long moment, he opened eyes brimming with dominance.

  The world seemed vivid in his golden gaze.

  "What is this?"

  The Overlord raised a hand, uncertain.

  Even his Body Storage realm couldn't pierce its mystery.

  "Dragon qi..."

  He looked toward White Jade Capital, eyes sharpening.

  "Lu Ping'an... was this you? All of it?"

  Unlike the bewildered Tantai Xuan—never touched by immortal favor—the Overlord mastered power instinctively.

  With a thought...

  Golden light bloomed behind him, a dragon qi pillar soaring.

  Four zhang and five chi tall. Beneath it, his strength edged up slightly.

  Not drastic, but real.

  ...

  Beiluo Lake.

  Lu smiled, holding the Dragon Pearl Golden Core.

  A thought...

  Invisible flames spread in his palm—scorching, terrifying.

  The core melted.

  Lu's spiritual sense surged, following artifact-refining manual techniques. The liquid flowed, soon...

  Forming a great seal.

  Carved with a soaring golden dragon.

  "This is the Emperor Dragon Seal. Only dragon qi activates it. Whoever claims the complete seal claims the world."

  Lu intoned grandly.

  His finger flicked the Phoenix Feather Guard.

  Whoosh—the Phoenix Feather Sword shot out, a sword beam slicing through.

  The seal split in two.

  Lu flicked them like marbles into the spiritual pressure board. Golden light flashed, vanishing.

  Done, Lu stretched, body flashing like thunder, gone.

  He reappeared on White Jade Capital's second-floor pavilion, in his wheelchair, listening to snow by the rail.

  Far away in Yuan Chi City and the Imperial Capital...

  Half a golden dragon seal materialized before Tantai Xuan and the Overlord.