At the south-western border Dongli, several roads stretched out, connecting the state to other parts of the Yanzhou Province. Of these roads, one stood out, crafted in an amalgam of high-grade spirit stones, the road by itself produced a better cultivation environment than what most sects could offer. Yet, despite it standing right at the border, no Dongli cultivator would dare to set foot on it. They didn’t have the right, for this road belonged to the lords of Burning Spear supercity, and its master, the Yanzhou Hegemon: Yan Zhong.
In usual times, without express permission, even flying within a three-meters radius of the spirit road constituted an offense punishable by death. Spiritual Lords aside, none could escape this judgment. But today, a tanned, herculean monk sat-crossed legged on the road, arms folded, and with his eyes closed in meditation.
Meanwhile, a scorching bolt of orange flames raced across the air. At first, the bolt aimed for Dongli itself. But as it passed by the Spirit Road, the figure within noticed the monk, Qingxin’s presence—its brows furrowed immediately.
‘Oh? A little monk with a Golden Core cultivation base dares to occupy my road? Estimate yourself lucky that I have to deal with that crane mountain. Afterward, I will…’ Yan Zhong, the Yanzhou Hegemon, started. But as his thoughts reached this point, Qingxin vanished from the road and appeared before him.
Cut off in thoughts and movements, Yan Zhong came to an abrupt stop. His mid-long red hair and trimmed beard swayed, fluctuating on the rhythm of his heartbeat. Thick steam blew out of his cheeks. Surprise replaced anger, and for a second, he scrutinized Qingxin, the monk that dared to block a Hegemon’s path.
“In my millennia-long existence, never once has a Golden Core insect dared to even stare me in the eyes. You, little monk, have courage. For that courage alone, I will not abuse you to death,” Yan Zhong said and snapped his fingers. Great tongues of fire leaped out of nothingness, slamming into Qingxin from all eight directions. But barely had the flames gotten to the monk that they vanished—again returning to nothingness.
“Eh?” Yan Zhong trembled uncontrollably. Although this was only a casual maneuver of his, to say nothing of a Golden Core insect, even a Divine Transformation expert should have no hope of resisting the blow. How could a random monk outright erase the move?
“I do not know who your excellency is and why you hide your cultivation base, but I have urgent business in the Dongli state, and am in no mood to play with you. State your piece, or in my authority as the master of Burning Spear supercity, I will have to dispose of you,” Yan Zhong said, hoping that his status would trigger a behavioral shift from Qingxin—it didn’t.
“I am not hiding anything. You’re just too lousy of a Dao Revelation expert to beat a Golden Core insect.” Qingxin started, Yan Zhong’s cheeks flushed red, his elfin ears trembled, but as he prepared to unleash his dreadful cultivation base and turn Dongli into a post-apocalyptic dumpster, Qingxin shook his head, and Yan Zhong’s cultivation base…refused to obey him!
“Impossible! Who…who the hell are you?” Yan Zhong lost his bearing. Never in his life had the Hegemon felt so helpless. Even the elders of the Eastern Imperial Court couldn’t trigger such emotions in him. Yet within a minute of confronting this monk, he had the firm conviction that in 300 lifetimes, he would still not be his match.
“All lives exist by Heaven’s Will. If you believe in these words, then you should know…that even insects have a right to live. The Soaring Crane mountain has crossed my bottom line and will vanish from this world. Since a Dao Oath binds you to them, I won’t make things difficult for you.” Here, Qingxin paused. Arcane forces that transcended Yan Zhong’s Daoist accomplishments unfurled, and not only did the Hegemon lose the ability to move, but under his gaze, Qingxin expanded—ballooning into a colossus whose head pierced through the vault of Heaven.
No!
It wasn’t Qingxin that grew into abnormal proportions. Rather, Yan Zhong, and the space around him, were getting compressed to microscopic levels by Qingxin’s will!
“Shrinking the World to an Inch! You are a g-God? A God! AAAAAARGH! Merciful Heavens, what have I done? Divine Lord, please forgive me!” Yan Zhong screamed his lungs out, and as his teeth clacked incessantly, the Hegemon broke into a cold sweat. The Great Desolation world only had two deities, the August Divinity of the Central Domain, and the God-Monarch of the Eternal Night. Regardless of affiliations, both were entities that Elemental Spirits such as Yan Zhong had to bow to, first and foremost.
“Try your best and fail all the same. So long as I stand here, no spirit scion should dream of preventing the Soaring Crane mountain’s extermination.”
Qingxin neither approved nor rejected Yan Zhong’s words. But with all the evidence he presented so candidly, the truth needed no additional proof. Yan Zhong didn’t believe that other Gods hid in the Great Desolation world. And even if they did, that mattered not. The mere thought that he’d attempted to challenge a God made Yan Zhong go mad with fright. His brain malfunctioned, and despite his immunity to diseases, the Hegemon succumbed to a seizure—frothing at the mouth.
Ever the helpful soul, Qingxin flicked his fingers, sending Yan Zhong crashing all the way back to Burning Spear supercity.
…
Meanwhile, Soaring Crane still clung on to a ruinous hope, refusing to accept that a mere Qingxin could prevent the Yanzhou Hegemon from rescuing his sect from the devastation that clearly loomed over it. Alas, if reality could change because men rejected it, the world wouldn’t be so full of hurt.
A mental message flew in, putting the final nail in the coffin of Soaring Crane’s hopes.
‘Patriarch. Words have come from the Yanzhou capital, warning us that…that we’ve offended one we shouldn’t have and dragged the Hegemon into our mess. He is now severely injured and…the Yan Spirit clan pledges that even…even if the White Immortal sect doesn’t destroy us, they will not let us off…’
The messenger’s voice carried no energy, and who could blame him? Vast as Yanzhou may be, if the Yan Spirit clan didn’t want you to live, you’d have nowhere to hide. Indeed…
“The Soaring Crane mountain cultivators are guilty of fornicating with their beast slaves and plotting to establish a beast kingdom in Dongli. These egregious offenses constitute a violation of our Spirit Emperor’s laws—laws that forbid the East’s denizens from fraternizing with mysterious beasts. It is therefore with great regret, that the Yanzhou Hegemon sentences the Soaring Crane mountain to extermination. 30 million spirit stones and 50 L of Fetal Spirit Fluid will go to those that successfully carry out this cleanup.”
Signed with Burning Spear supercity’s seal, these words appeared above the state, visible to all Dongli lives—regardless of where they stood. Lord Soaring Crane’s limbs turned limp, and his tears rained down his sunken cheeks.
“Well, that was fast. Are you going to use the Spirit Extinguishing Bead in your hand? With it you could increase your cultivation to pseudo Divine Transformation and turn into a mini-boss for one last battle. But old cousin, what would that change? With the formations we have laid out, you’ll only succeed in intensifying your struggle. Give up now, surrender the bead, and I will pledge a Dao Oath that the White Immortal sect will not carry out this…” Lord Hanxing started, but as he readied to set up one last trap for Soaring Crane, with 500 war chariots at the helm, 20,000 armored legionaries left the White Immortal sect, bolting towards the Soaring Crane mountain.
“Eh? Xinzi?” Only now did Hanxing realize that in spite of all his considerations, he’d still neglected a crucial X factor.
“What is that impious monk doing?” Zi Yao too didn’t like this development, but why in the eighteen hells should our monk give a damn?
Comfortably seated on top of his palanquin, Xinzi munched a peach in his right hand, and in the left sipped some tea he’d brewed while watching the big shots’ banter.
“30 million spirit stones, 50 L of Fetal Spirit Fluid. That’s about 155 million in value. Faith-building is an expensive venture. As an Enlightened Monk, how can I let this haul escape me? Brothers and sisters, the loot is ours—well, mine mostly, but have no doubt that you will receive ample benefit for your contributions!” Xinzi raised his peach-wielding fist towards the sky, motivating the troops with great swagger.
A myriad of golden clouds poured out of the 500 chariots, lifting up the 20,000 armored soldiers, and carrying them across the sky like a flight of shooting stars.
Thus, by the time it took half an incense stick to burn, Xinzi had crossed half the Dongli sky and reached the Soaring Crane mountain’s vicinity.
“Too far! You’re going too far! Your White Immortal sect is bullying me intolerably! And I will not stand for it! AAARGH! All of you must die!” Besides himself with rage, Soaring Crane slammed the Spirit Extinguishing Bead into his forehead. Foul, heretical energies erupted from his dantian, perverted his soul, sucked what remained of his life force and potential to push his cultivation past the threshold he’d failed to cross till now: Divine Transformation.
“No!” Hanxing, who craved the Spirit Extinguishing Bead, raged as Soaring Crane took the road of no return, and threw Ziyun at him.
