Three days later.
Mist swirled as Dongbo Xueying sat alone in a lakeside pavilion, sipping wine with a long spear resting across his knees. Since the Yingshan Matriarch’s avatar was in Huolie City, Xueying merely channeled his will into the spear to meditate on its mysteries, refraining from actual practice.
As he drank, his maid, Yan Yu, occasionally poured him more wine.
“Xueying,” a voice called out.
The red-haired Huolie Hou flew over alongside a sinister-looking youth clad in black robes.
Xueying immediately stowed his spear and rose to his feet.
“My Lord,” he greeted, though his gaze lingered on the black-robed youth, who fanned himself with a folding fan, exuding an eerie aura.
“I am the demonic servant ‘Blood Rain,'” the black-robed youth said, closing his fan and bowing. “The Matriarch has bestowed upon me the name ‘Yingshan Zibai.’ From now on, I shall serve as your guard—until the day you reach the Chaos Realm, when I shall return to the ancestral clan.”
Xueying was startled.
A demonic servant named ‘Blood Rain’?
Among flesh-and-blood puppets, those capable of Chaos Realm strength were rare, and mass-produced ones even rarer. The demonic servant ‘Chao Qing’ was considered the cheapest, costing fifty million universe crystals, and could be forged by certain Cosmic Gods. But ‘Blood Rain’ was different—only the ‘Xiafeng Ancient Nation’ among the Six Great Ancient Nations could craft them. Normally, they maintained the combat power of the seventh level of the Divine Palace, sustaining it indefinitely. In critical moments, they could burn their essence to unleash eighth-level Divine Palace strength, though afterward, they required extensive resources to recover.
A demonic servant capable of eighth-level Divine Palace combat power was terrifyingly valuable—worth six times a ‘Chao Qing.’ Even Huolie Hou might not afford one with his entire fortune. Only the Yingshan Matriarch could purchase one so effortlessly, bestowing upon it the name ‘Yingshan Zibai.’
“I shall trouble you in the future, Zibai,” Xueying said at once.
“It is my honor to serve as your guard,” Zibai replied with a graceful bow, fan in hand.
“Xueying, the Matriarch fears the mastermind behind the assassination attempt may not relent, hence she sent Zibai to you,” Huolie Hou explained.
“Has the mastermind been identified?” Xueying pressed.
“We can only speculate that it was likely a fiend from the Black Fiend Abyss,” Huolie Hou said with a shake of his head.
Xueying’s heart tightened.
The Black Fiend Abyss?
The four nations surrounding the Nanyun Kingdom, including it, were collectively known as the ‘Black Fiend Four Nations.’ Why? Because the ‘Black Fiend Abyss’ bordering them was one of the most infamous gathering places for fiends across the entire Heart Realm Continent. Even terrifying fiends who had evaded the pursuit of the Six Great Ancient Nations hid within its depths.
While the Six Great Ancient Nations could at least force them to flee, second-rate nations like Nanyun found the Black Fiend Abyss a constant headache. After all, the Abyss housed at least ten Cosmic Gods, including monstrous fiends who had once wreaked havoc in the Six Great Ancient Nations.
“A fiend from the Black Fiend Abyss sent assassins after me?” Xueying frowned.
“It’s likely an enemy provoked by our Yingshan Clan,” Huolie Hou said. “The Yingshan Clan has existed for eons—conflicts with the fiends of the Black Fiend Abyss are inevitable. We refuse to be bullied, so sometimes, we must wage war.”
“Dealing with fiends?” Xueying was puzzled.
Why would a noble clan of Nanyun have dealings with fiends?
“You’ll understand once you reach the Chaos Realm,” Huolie Hou said. “No time to waste—you should head to the capital as soon as possible.”
“Understood. I’m ready to depart at any time,” Xueying grinned.
Zibai flicked open his fan, smiling. “It’s been ages since I last visited the capital. Accompanying you will be a fine opportunity to see it again.”
—
That very day, Xueying set off with his demonic servant Zibai, Tian Yizhi, two Blackflow Cloud Beasts, nine personal guards, and his maid Yan Yu. Though his mother, Rong Xinglan, had urged him to bring more attendants, Xueying, accustomed to austere cultivation from his past life, only brought one to appease her.
With a flash, they teleported from Huolie City to ‘Chunyu City,’ one of the three imperial-class cities.
From there, another teleportation array sent them straight to the capital.
As space settled, a handsome youth in white robes stood amidst his entourage—his maid, the gray-robed elder, the black-robed Zibai fanning himself, and the two Blackflow Cloud Beasts growling softly as they surveyed their surroundings. The nine guards stood at solemn attention.
“Nanyun Capital,” Xueying murmured, gazing at the sky where streams of light flowed endlessly. The city stretched beyond sight—the largest in Nanyun, where the Nanyun King himself resided, and home to the ‘Nanyun Sacred Sect,’ one of the ten great sects of the Heart Realm Continent.
This was a city renowned across the continent, where foreign powerhouses were common, and even major factions from the Six Great Ancient Nations maintained branches. Countless cultivators flocked here, hoping to join the Nanyun Sacred Sect.
“This place feels ten, even a hundred times more formidable and stable than the ‘Blade Emperor City’ of the Chaos Void’s six holy lands,” Xueying marveled inwardly.
The Heart Realm Continent boasted far more Cosmic Gods, leading to vastly superior array formations—many surpassing even the Witch Ancestor’s craftsmanship. And the Nanyun King, as the leader of one of the ten great sects, was among the wealthiest of Cosmic Gods, able to purchase the most formidable arrays.
Within the capital, the Nanyun King was virtually invincible.
“Young Master, our Yingshan Clan maintains an estate here,” Zibai said. “Let us rest there first. The Matriarch has already arranged matters—once the Nanyun Sacred Sect is ready, you may proceed.”
“Very well,” Xueying nodded.
—
At the Yingshan Estate in the capital, many clan members resided—some cultivating, others managing business affairs. Yet the moment Xueying arrived, he became the de facto highest authority present.
“It’s Lord Xueying!”
“He’s come to the capital!”
Though three ancestral elders oversaw the estate, even they deferred to Xueying, given his demonic servant guard. They harbored no resentment—after all, this young lord was destined to become a Chaos Realm Marquis.
They hosted a grand banquet in his honor.
“Young Master Xueying, this is not Yingshan City, nor Huolie City. Here, experts are as common as clouds, and those of noble status abound. Beyond our Nanyun’s imperial and noble families, there are scions of the Six Great Ancient Nations—even their imperial descendants. Even our Nanyun’s most arrogant crown prince wouldn’t dare provoke them lightly.”
“Indeed, Young Master, you must tread carefully here.”
The elders and clansmen offered their advice.
Xueying listened quietly, absorbing their words.
Beside him, Zibai fanned himself calmly. “Fear not, Young Master. The Matriarch entrusted me with a ‘Nanyun Sacred Decree.’ So long as you do not provoke others needlessly, even the scions of the Six Great Nations need not concern you. And among them, few truly warrant our caution.”
“A Sacred Decree?” The three elders gasped.
The Nanyun King bestowed such decrees sparingly. Even the Matriarch possessed only one—though at her level, it was merely symbolic. For Xueying, it was a genuine safeguard.
“The Matriarch truly dotes on Young Master Xueying,” the clansmen murmured enviously.
—
Xueying was no reckless fool. The day after his arrival, he set out for the ‘Treasure Artifact Market.’
Every major city had such a market, but Nanyun Capital’s was among the grandest in the Heart Realm Continent. Its splendor dwarfed Huolie City’s—even from afar, the radiance of countless treasures was palpable. Shops owned by the imperial family and the Six Great Nations lined its streets, their wares beyond counting.
“Astounding,” Xueying murmured as he wandered, marveling at the sights.
Then—
His spear trembled in his grip, its shaft pulsing as if drawn toward something.
Frowning, Xueying followed the pull, his entourage trailing behind in curiosity.
“There.” His gaze pierced through spatial barriers, landing on a circular, spire-topped shop. On its third floor, among twelve floating treasures, rested a spearhead—its aura resonating with his weapon.
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