Chapter 947: Old Feelings

Qinglong held the bloodied head of the Celestial Pig in his hand and slowly placed it on the table.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the crimson blood from his hands.

“My apologies, everyone. I might have gone a bit too far,” Qinglong said. “But this was unavoidable. Let this serve as a warning—don’t try to outsmart me.”

No one in the room dared to respond. They could only stare at the lifeless, unblinking eyes of the Celestial Pig.

The Celestial Ranks had begun to lose members. The balance of power here was truly shifting.

“Celestial Dog,” Qinglong turned to the obese man.

“Y-yes…?”

“During this time… did anyone below mention the words ‘Celestial Dragon’?” Qinglong asked.

Celestial Dog thought for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “No.”

“No…?” Qinglong narrowed his eyes. “Think carefully. Even though I was preoccupied, I might have overheard something.”

A flicker of panic crossed Celestial Dog’s face. He meticulously replayed every sound he had heard before finally speaking. “I truly didn’t hear anyone say ‘Celestial Dragon’…”

Monitoring every sound in the “Endgame Lands” was no easy feat for Celestial Dog. Tens of thousands of voices often spoke at once, making his ears ring like thunder.

So he had to selectively listen for key phrases or, under Qinglong’s orders, focus on certain individuals.

Yet neither the important words nor the important people had mentioned “Celestial Dragon.”

“Why so nervous?” Qinglong chuckled. “I was just asking casually. I was too focused on dealing with Celestial Pig to hear anything.”

Celestial Dog nodded, then glanced sidelong at the head on the table.

This was the fate of those who defied Qinglong. If he wanted to survive, he had to follow orders without question.

“From now on, none of you—except Celestial Dog—are allowed to activate your ‘Divine Arts,'” Qinglong declared. “Losing a comrade of decades pains me deeply. So I advise you all to behave and stop seeking your own demise.”

With that, he dragged a chair over and sat back down, resting his chin on his hand as he watched them in silence. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating.

No one spoke, but they all understood.

There was no “decades of camaraderie,” no “misunderstanding.” To Qinglong, Celestial Pig’s death was no different from crushing an insect.

Yet among the remaining nine Celestial Ranks, two or three stared at Celestial Pig’s head with equal indifference.

They seemed more like gods who had cast aside all human emotions.

The wrinkled Celestial Rat not only remained expressionless but even smirked after a few seconds.

“Um…” he broke the silence.

“Speak,” Qinglong said.

“Now that Celestial Pig is gone… shouldn’t we allow a newcomer to ‘ascend’?” Celestial Rat asked.

“Ascend…?” Qinglong’s lips slowly curled. “I almost forgot about that rule.”

“Ah…” Celestial Rat wasn’t sure if he had misspoken and forced a laugh. “Many Earth Ranks are struggling to advance, and their motivation is waning… If we announce that the ‘Pig’ position is open, they might work harder.”

“That would only create a bunch of hardworking ‘pigs,'” Qinglong sneered. “What about the other ‘Zodiacs’?”

Celestial Rat’s wrinkles tightened as he realized his mistake.

“Maybe we should clear out a few more ‘Zodiac’ positions,” Qinglong mused. “That way, our ‘Paradise’ can truly thrive. After all, the ‘Celestial Zodiacs’ barely do anything compared to the Earth Ranks.”

“Th-that’s…” Celestial Rat blinked nervously. “That can’t be right… I may not work much, but I still help manage the Earth Ranks.”

Qinglong glanced at the cluster of remote controls hanging from his waist. “With these?”

“Y-yes…” Celestial Rat nodded. “Among all the Zodiacs… only my subordinates tremble when they see me. Doesn’t that prove my leadership?”

“They tremble when they see me too,” Qinglong said. “Are you saying we’re equals now?”

“No, no!” Celestial Rat hastily shook his head. “Of course not! I’m merely trying to follow in your footsteps…”

Qinglong grinned, then stood and addressed the room. “You’ve all realized it by now—the ‘Celestial Ranks’ are useless. Anyone who reaches the Earth Rank could replace you.”

His gaze swept over Celestial Ox. “A mute ‘ant.’ Do you really think you’re the only one who can manage the masses in this vast ‘Paradise’?”

Then to Celestial Dog: “Are you the only one who can hear the voices of this world?”

“Celestial Snake, how many years has it been since your ‘research’ produced anything new?”

“Celestial Monkey, Celestial Rooster—countless people could achieve ‘Yin-Yang Unity,’ yet you two have failed for decades.”

“Celestial Horse, Celestial Tiger—I often see dreamers, but those who dream while awake are rare. Are the grandmother and child by your side truly your kin?”

Finally, he turned to Celestial Rabbit and said flatly, “No need to comment on someone who refuses to wake up.”

His words left them all speechless.

“The Earth Ranks endure far harsher trials than you,” Qinglong continued. “Any one of them could do your jobs better. The only reason Celestial Dragon and I allow you to keep your seats is out of sentiment.”

Though he spoke of “sentiment,” it was clear that every Celestial Rank was replaceable.

“Yet now, you’ve all grown rebellious. What’s the meaning of this?” Qinglong’s voice turned cold. “I only asked you to sit quietly for one night, yet someone chose to fight me to the death. Disappointing. I hope you’ll reconsider your choices.”

Satisfied with the effect of his words, Qinglong tossed the bloodstained handkerchief aside and walked to the other side of the room. Closing his eyes, he phased through the locked door.

A lush emerald tree came into view. Qinglong approached it with faint delight, examining its fruit before his expression darkened.

A few steps ahead, atop a short flight of stairs, sat a massive throne. Upon it, Celestial Dragon slumbered, chin resting on his hand.

“What a beautiful dream…” Qinglong grinned. “Celestial Dragon… our entangled lives must come to an end.”

Celestial Dragon’s breathing was heavy, but his brow twitched slightly.