Separated since childhood, with no memories to cherish, Shi Hao felt a pang of sorrow in his heart. He had never known the warmth of familial love, abandoned by his clan and left to wander alone from a tender age. Raised in Stone Village, he never had the chance to experience the comfort of his parents’ presence. Sometimes lonely, sometimes mischievous, sometimes laughing brightly, he grew up carefree in the village. Had it not been for the Willow God opening his mind’s eye, allowing him to glimpse the past, he wouldn’t even know what his parents looked like. Back then, he was just a year old, left in the village to be fostered. Seeking refuge in Stone Village, growing up there, he never saw his parents again. Some memories had nearly faded, and there had been no word from them since, no hope of reunion.
“Father, Mother, are you well?” Shi Hao murmured, his usual boldness replaced by a distant, wistful expression. The softest part of his heart had been touched, leaving a bittersweet ache. Fortunately, the people of Stone Village were simple and kind, treating him as their own, allowing him to grow up carefree and happy. Yet, deep down, he always felt something was missing. Others had parents—he was alone, never knowing the special bond of filial love.
“I’ve grown up now,” Shi Hao said to himself, his gaze gradually firming. He had relied on himself, carving his own path out of the wilderness. Though still a youth, he had already shaken the wastelands, standing unrivaled among his peers. His achievements were unimaginable—an orphan, stripped of his supreme bone, left to wither and die. Yet he had endured, surviving without the aid of sacred medicines, growing strong and healthy, crushing all foes, ascending as the Human Emperor.
“When do we depart?” Qin Ming inquired, noticing Shi Hao’s fleeting melancholy and the shift in his expression. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his mind—this young man clearly valued sentiment. That would make him easier to manipulate. He knew the couple hadn’t yet ascended to the upper realm; they remained in Mount Buxian, a fact that could sway the youth.
Shi Hao regained his composure, seated upon his throne, his deep eyes surveying the hall with an authority that belied his age—calm and unshakable. That gaze alone made Qin Ming tremble, his confidence shattered. Though a marquis himself, facing Shi Hao was like standing before an invincible supreme being, impossible to resist.
“You may leave. Await my summons,” Shi Hao said coolly.
“But the decree…” Qin Ming’s eyes gleamed as he glanced at the golden edict carelessly tossed onto the table. He longed to take it—this was no ordinary artifact. Imprinted with the divine seal of Mount Buxian, it carried profound laws, each character glowing with hidden power. Merely lying on the table, it radiated golden light, its words imprinting themselves into the void like divine flames.
“Do you have objections?” Shi Hao asked icily.
Qin Ming stiffened, not daring to voice his desire. Though the decree could be refined into a divine artifact, he knew better than to ask—it was meant for Shi Hao alone. He hastily withdrew, but as he left, he saw Shi Hao casually crumple the golden parchment into a ball, making his lips twitch in silent horror.
With the great calamity just passed, chaos reigned across the eight domains. Every sect sought stability, none capable of waging war, all scrambling to mend the damage and secure their legacies. Even foreign lineages connected to the upper realm had suffered, leaving the world uneasy. What was needed now was peace.
Thus, Shi Hao had no worries—his rise had temporarily cowed all opposition, and the imperial capital stood firm. Summoning the War King and Peng Jiu, he made his arrangements, then spent two days preparing before setting out.
The Lunar Grace Goddess could not be left behind in the palace—who knew what secrets she held? Shi Hao wouldn’t rest unless she was subdued and kept close. If others knew he had imprisoned the revered saintess within a bronze fragment’s miniature world, they would surely lose their minds.
“This is the Void-Shattering Ship,” Qin Ming introduced outside the capital, a hint of pride in his voice. Crafted by Mount Buxian, this treasure vessel could traverse a hundred thousand miles in a day. Sleek and dark, its hull shimmered with an unknown luster, small yet swift, powered by the primal bones of legendary birds.
Shi Hao scoffed. “So small? Had I known, I’d have brought one from the palace.” His indifference silenced Qin Ming, whose arrogance faltered. No matter how advanced Mount Buxian’s artifacts were, Shi Hao was now the Human Emperor—his treasury held relics from antiquity.
“Ten thousand miles a day is too slow. When will we arrive?” Shi Hao frowned.
“We head first to the Fire Nation,” Qin Ming replied, masking his unease with a cold smirk.
“I’ll take control,” Shi Hao declared, flooding the ship with his power. Instantly, the vessel blazed like an arrow loosed from a bow, its speed skyrocketing beyond limits. Qin Ming paled—how could the gap between them be so vast?
“Explains why he can challenge a Venerable,” Qin Ming thought, shuddering. Even with the imperial dragon qi, Shi Hao’s own strength was monstrous.
The ship’s speed shattered all expectations, crossing hundreds of thousands of miles in a day. Qin Ming panicked—the hull was cracking, the core bones nearly spent. Yet Shi Hao pressed on, a blazing furnace of energy.
“Mount Buxian would want me to arrive swiftly. If you prefer to crawl, I won’t stop you.”
Qin Ming fell silent, guilt gnawing at him. He had delayed delivering the decree, even scolding Shi Hao, wasting precious time.
They landed in a colossal city near the Fire Nation, now under Mount Buxian’s control. The ship was in ruins, its bones dimming—a total loss.
A super formation awaited, capable of piercing the domain barrier, transporting them to the edge of the Profound Domain. Crossing such vast distances by flight was impossible—the barriers had grown impenetrable.
The formation was colossal, a mountain-sized altar pulsing with light. As the array activated, a silver path unfurled beneath their feet, and they stepped into the corridor, vanishing from the Barren Domain.
“Father, Mother, I’ve come to find you,” Shi Hao whispered, standing on unfamiliar soil. After over a decade, would they reunite? He longed to see them, to understand why they hadn’t returned with the sacred medicine. He bore no resentment—only yearning.
“Grandfather, are you in this domain too? At Mount Buxian? I’ll see you soon.”
The Great Demon God, his grandfather, had once stormed the imperial capital for his sake, crushing enemies and punishing their clan. Such love—he missed him dearly.
This land was lush, far richer in spiritual energy than the Barren Domain. No wonder outsiders called it a wasteland—here, the very air thrived with vitality.
At the edge of the Profound Domain, a massive platform stood, welcoming returnees from afar. Many eyes turned to Shi Hao, some recognizing him with shock.
“Am I seeing things?”
“Silence!”
Qin Ming summoned a dozen experts, shielding Shi Hao from prying eyes.
In the distance, a colossal warship loomed—ten thousand zhang long, radiating divine might. Even Shi Hao was awed.
“We board this ship. It travels a million miles a day. Soon, we’ll reach Mount Buxian,” Qin Ming said, his confidence restored now that they were in the Profound Domain.
Suddenly, chaos erupted—divine light filled the sky, powerful artifacts clearing a path.
“What’s happening?” Qin Ming demanded.
“Envoys from the upper realm!” an elder gasped.
“What?!” Qin Ming’s face drained of color.
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