”Zhen…Zhenwu Shenquan.” The sudden appearance of the True Martial Divine Fist, only true king of the Empire, petrified even the Great Preceptor.
State rulers might style themselves as kings and queens, but outside their domains, their titles had no worth, not even comparable to the lowest of spirit nobles. As far as the empire was concerned, they were the managers of the various pseudo-mortal states, not monarchs in any right.
The title of king, as in ruler of a kingdom, had always been taboo—seen as an affront, an open challenge to the imperial family’s hegemony. Even the True Monarchs of the empire, all Supreme Clarity level experts, mostly stemmed from the imperial clan—with those outside the imperial family rarely being able to raise a successor to this title.
Zhenwu Shenquan was the first Kingdom King, and with the Central Domain’s blessing, annexed four Provinces to turn his Longxi Hegemony into the Longxi Kingdom. Not only that, but the Central Domain also put all humans of the Eastern Spirit Empire under the leadership of Zhenwu Shenquan, appointing him as the first Human King.
The Great Preceptor couldn’t digest the Central Domain’s decision. But what could he do? Zhenwu Shenquan was only at the early stage of Supreme Clarity, three levels lower than the Great Preceptor, yet no one doubted that in a fight, he had no hope to defeat the True Martial Divine Fist.
Longxi had always been a province dedicated to martial excellence. There, Blood Energy cultivation methods weren’t in short supply, with entire farms and man-made forests dedicated to the production of potent Blood Fruits and Elixirs. To overthrow the previous rulers and become the martial god of that province, Zhenwu Shenquan had to rely on a mix of irresistible strength and wits.
The Great Preceptor didn’t want to fight the number one cultivator of the last 10,000 years. But faced with a direct challenge to his authority, how could he balk?
”Human King, you’ve not been invited to this conference and are not welcome among us spirit nobles and princes. Please see yourself out,” the Great Preceptor said, shocking the audience, who’d never expected that he’d use such offensive words to greet the Human King.
Little did they know that, even as he spoke, the Great Preceptor’s heart drummed in his chest.
”Yaozhou has fallen, but instead of taking measures to regain the most critical of Eastern Provinces, here you are, delaying the empire’s response to beg the Central Domain for help. With this level of backbone, how dare you hold the title of Great Preceptor? What are you precepting, actually? The epitome of mediocrity?” If Zhenwu Shenquan took offense, his face didn’t show it. Instead, he blasted the Great Preceptor with such cold and incisive words that the old man’s cheeks burned instantly.
”And you, worthless insect, to think that the once glorious Eastern Spirit Empire would fall so low that an ill-bred scrub such as you could sit on its throne. What a shameful decline. Crown Prince, take notes. This is the type of monarch that you can absolutely not allow yourself to become,” not giving the Great Preceptor the time to recover from his words, Zhenwu Shenquan said, and only now did the audience notice the blue-haired youth by his side.
Though the hair and eye color reminisced of the Wind Spirit clans, the facial features were strikingly similar to Zhenwu Shenquan, and as the two stood side by side, most would instinctively see them as father and son.
The Eastern Spirit Emperor raised his trembling eyes, first glancing at Zhenwu Shenquan, then his son, his crown prince, the boy that bore such a resemblance to the Human King that even fools could tell his true parentage.
This…was the greatest shame of the emperor’s life, worse than having spent a lifetime as a figurehead for his elders’ political infighting. His son—his only son—just so happened to not be his, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Most people believed that Zhenwu Shenquan was greedy for beauty. But only the emperor understood how false this belief was. Zhenwu Shenquan despised women, so much so that he had to prove to the world, to those that loved them, that he was right to look down on them. His hatred for the female gender knew absolutely no limit, and men like the puppet emperor paid the price for his experiments.
”Your disciple will remember your teachings,” the Crown Prince said and bowed at Zhenwu Shenquan—never once glancing at the emperor that loved and raised him from boy to man. Zhenwu Shenquan nodded at his bastard son, then swept the audience with a smirk.
”Leaders of the Spiritual Aristocracy, Yaozhou has fallen. And it was demons, not beasts, that took it down. The loss of Yaozhou Province matters more than the destruction of 100 states. So, I have no choice but to make a move.”
’Yaozhou fell to demons?’ Shenquan’s words triggered a massive uproar, causing lords and princes to look at one another with the same terror.
”Nonsense! True, Yaozhou has fallen, but when even the empire has yet to find out the details of its fall, how can you know that it’s demons and not beasts that overwhelmed it? Clearly, you’re attempting to use Yaozhou’s fall to spread false news of demonic infestation so you can legally take command of the East!” The Great Preceptor denied Zhenwu Shenquan’s claim, and he wasn’t incorrect.
Yaozhou was currently on lockdown, with its supercity and states under the tight control of Xinzi’s undead legions. Grand barriers prevented passage and news couldn’t leak, so, even if the empire could guess Yaozhou’s fall, no one could tell that it’d fallen to demonic hands—yet.
Shenquan just needed an excuse for a legitimate coup. And Yaozhou’s strategic importance became the foundation of his legitimacy.
The Great Preceptor glanced left and right, seeking the support of the various nobles. They kept their heads lowered, unwilling to take the imperial family’s side.
”Bastards! Bastards!” The Great Preceptor threw a fit but got no positive feedback from the nobles.
If Spiritual Mines represented the backbone of cultivation factions and spirit stone reserves, then it was through their Spiritual Farms that they minimized their dependence on stones and foreign powers.
Barring a few unique abilities, like the demons’ Swallowing Skill or Xinzi’s Five Elements Transmutative Technique, no one could use spirit stones to directly increase their cultivation. They were, first and foremost, the mainstream currency for the cultivation world’s trades, and the primary energy source for formations, Spiritual Arks, and other advanced spiritual weapons.
Spiritual Farms, on the other end, produced commodities that cultivators either directly ingested, or processed through alchemical refinement to produce various pills. In any faction of the cultivation world, Spiritual Farms were directly responsible for the cultivation of juniors, seniors and elders. And while only ranked third among the upper provinces, Yaozhou by far possessed the most Spiritual Farms of the empire—many of whom were routinely rented by mighty clans.
It was no exaggeration to say that the loss of that province could overnight tank the economy and cultivation future of the whole empire.
Thus, even if Yaozhou’s alchemical brilliance was forever lost in its conquest, the Eastern Spirit Empire had to regain the farms at all costs.
This wealth of resources was one of the reasons why Bloodstone-Xinzi selected Yaozhou, and for the same reason, Zhenwu Shenquan would rather see the world burn than let Yaozhou slip out of his grasp.
The Human King threw out a casual punch, and the peak-stage Supreme Clarity Great Preceptor burst into a feast of blood and gore.
Alarmed, nobles and princes fell on their knees, sweating as they groveled at the Human King.
”Today, in my authority as the Slaughtering Shadow, I take absolute command over the Eastern Spirit Empire.
So long as the demonic infestation perdures, my rule continues, and if it never dies out, then I shall reign forever,” Zhenwu Shenquan said, and just like Daji had prophetized, took charge of the imperial city—with it establishing the Zhenwu clan’s dictatorial rule over the Eastern Spirit Empire.