The Bai Clan estate had barely begun to tighten its defenses in response to the assassination attempt… when another storm came knocking.
Boom!
Thunder cracked overhead.
But this wasn’t a storm of nature—it was a storm of cultivation.
Dark clouds churned above the Bai Clan’s ancestral grounds, drawn by an overwhelming surge of Qi.
And not just from one source.
Two colossal auras exploded across the sky like clashing titans—one red, one silver—ripping apart the clouds and pressing down on the earth like mountains.
Bai Tianheng’s expression darkened as he turned toward the distant horizon.
“They’re here,” he said coldly.
From the far mountains, two monstrous warships came into view.
Not ordinary vessels—these were true warships, forged from spirit metals and ancient wood, powered by arrays and spiritual cores. Massive flying palaces wreathed in Qi.
Each was the size of a small fortress—carrying thousands of elite cultivators.
One bore crimson sails embroidered with a golden lion standing atop a sea of flames—the banner of the Li Clan.
The other carried silver masts and was adorned with the image of a black dragon entwined with lightning—the symbol of the Zhao Clan.
These were the apex clans of the Desolate Heaven Empire.
And they hadn’t come for diplomacy.
They came for war.
Even from miles away, the killing intent radiating from the ships made the air feel like molten lead.
“Tch!” Bai Ren spat on the ground. “They sure didn’t waste time.”
Bai Tianheng stared coldly at the approaching giants. He raised his hand.
“Summon the elders. Ready the formations. And bring Bai Zihan.”
Elsewhere, inside the approaching Li Clan vessel…
Li Jianhong, Patriarch of the Li Clan, sat cross-legged.
His expression was calm, but his eyes flickered with barely restrained hatred.
“They actually dared to let that girl back in. Don’t they fear the consequences of her growth?”
Li Jianhong said, seemingly knowing what seemed to have happened between Bai Xinyue and Bai Clan.
Behind him, his son Li Feng, once humiliated by Bai Zihan, clenched his fists.
Ever since that event, he has been treated like trash by his family members, reduced from a genius to someone who made the clan lose face.
Even his father had been avoiding him and almost disowned him but this time, he brought him along.
Li Jianhong stared at the map in front of him then at Li Feng.
“Make no mistake, Feng. This is your last chance. If you don’t bring me satisfactory results this time, then you can leave Li Clan on your own.”
Li Feng’s jaw tightened.
“Yes, Father! I’ll kill him. Bai Zihan. I’ll kill him and reclaim my dignity!”
Li Jianhong’s gaze flicked toward him.
“Then make sure you have the power to back those words. There is no more chance for you if you fail.”
On the Zhao Clan vessel…
Zhao Chen, the silver-tongued manipulator and one of Bai Zihan’s enemies, looked far too cheerful.
Beside him, Zhao Wutian, the Zhao Clan’s Patriarch, was grim-faced.
“I assume you’ve prepared what I asked for?”
Zhao Wutian said.
Zhao Chen chuckled.
“Of course. I’ve prepared everything, Father!”
He stared out at the Bai Clan estate like a predator.
“I’ll deal with Bai Zihan myself. Others might have failed but I won’t!”
***
With such a storm brewing, how could others afford to miss it?
As the Li and Zhao Clans made their thunderous entrance, powerful cultivators from all corners of the Desolate Heaven Empire turned their eyes toward the Bai Clan estate.
It was no longer just a feud between three apex clans—it was a battle for survival.
Li and Zhao Clan couldn’t afford to have Bai Xinyue who got the Immortal Emperor’s Inheritance to grow or else they would need to face annihilation in coming years.
From hidden mountain sects and ancient families long thought reclusive…
From merchant guilds to lone wanderers…
From black-robed elders who moved like shadows to young prodigies, everyone had come to witness this historic event.
Some are flying ships.
Some riding beasts that blotted out the sky.
Some simply appeared, stepping out of spatial tears or drifting down on lotus petals made of Qi.
Hovering above mountaintops. Watching from afar. Concealing themselves within clouds.
All of them wanted the same thing—
To see whether the Bai Clan would stand.
Or fall.
Would the meteoric rise of Bai Zihan and the return of Bai Xinyue lead to a resurgence of the Bai Clan?
Or had the heavens granted them their last moment of brilliance… before shattering them?
Tension wound through the empire like a taut string.
Whispers filled every major sect hall.
Even the Imperial Court—aloof and cold—had paused everything and was waiting for the outcome.
Although most of the time the Imperial Court would try to prevent a major conflict that involved most of the Empire’s strength, this time, they didn’t.
Because they, too, wanted the Inheritance to be taken out of the Bai Clan’s hands. Otherwise, their authority and position in the Empire might be at risk.
But of course, they couldn’t allow it to fall into the hands of the Li or Zhao Clans either.
With their ambition, how could they possibly tolerate staying beneath the Imperial Family when they could simply seize power?
The best-case scenario for the Imperial Family would be for both sides to suffer heavy losses—allowing them to swoop in and claim the Inheritance for themselves.
But that was just the best case which is unlikely to happen.
No one dared get too close to where the fight might break out. One wrong step, and they could end up as collateral damage.
The Li Clan and the Zhao Clan had clearly come with intent to crush.
Their auras, vessels, and killing intent left no room for misinterpretation.
They didn’t come to negotiate.
They came for blood.
At the Bai Clan estate, the elders gathered under Bai Tianheng’s call.
Defensive formations lit up across the sky, layer upon layer, glowing like chains of light sealing the heavens.
Sentries readied their spirit bows.
Elite cultivators stood at the gates.
And deep beneath the main hall, ancient spiritual veins rumbled—slowly awakening to prepare for war.
At the center of it all stood Bai Tianheng, his eyes cold and unwavering.
“We are the Bai Clan,” he said simply.
“We do not kneel, nor do we bow! If they’ve come seeking blood—then we’ll drown them in their own!”