The Stone Capital stood majestic and towering, with the newly ascended emperor exuding an aura of draconic might that even the most powerful cultivators could sense, leaving them utterly astounded. “Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years of prosperity!” The streets echoed with thunderous cheers, as countless commoners joined in, their voices resonating in unison. This was the very essence of Imperial Dragon Qi, born from the hearts of the people.
Column after column of soldiers marched down the main thoroughfare, maintaining strict vigilance, for the tension in the city had yet to dissipate. The newly crowned emperor had swept through the cultivators of the Three Sects upon his ascension, and now there were many matters to arrange. The palace’s grand structures were built entirely of golden-hued rock, shimmering with a soft radiance, exuding an air of sacred grandeur and imposing majesty.
Shi Hao had returned, strolling through the palace, absorbing its vastness and the weight of history. Within these ancient halls, he could perceive the power of the Imperial Dao with unparalleled clarity.
“Your Majesty!” The War King arrived, addressing him with a title that even this seasoned veteran found somewhat strange. Years ago, he had greatly admired Shi Ziling, Shi Hao’s father. Never had he imagined that one day, the son of Shi Ziling would ascend as the Human Emperor—a mere fifteen-year-old youth, still a child in his eyes, yet so formidable as to have achieved a miracle.
“There is no need for formalities, War King,” Shi Hao replied. Seven or eight years prior, when Shi Hao had set fire to the Second Ancestral Land, throwing the Rain Clan into disarray in the Western Frontier, the War King had personally investigated the matter. He had executed Yu Meng without hesitation, clearly favoring Shi Hao’s lineage. Learning of this later, Shi Hao had felt deep gratitude.
“What of the Lunar Grace Goddess…?” the War King transmitted secretly, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. This woman was no ordinary figure. If she had truly been slain, the Heaven Mending Sect would surely erupt in fury, disregarding all rules to exact vengeance.
Shi Hao smiled, radiant and warm. After yesterday’s bloody battles, many saw him as young yet awe-inspiring in his might. Now, his gentle demeanor was startling. With a faint grin, he transmitted back, “She has decided to serve as my handmaiden.”
“What?!” The War King, though no longer young, remained a towering figure, his black hair cascading like a waterfall, his body suffused with divine radiance akin to the sun. At this moment, he was utterly stunned—this news was earth-shattering, enough to leave even a man of his stature dumbfounded.
Recovering quickly, his eyes widened. This was terrifying news. If word spread, the entire world would be thrown into chaos. How could the most sacred goddess of the mighty Heaven Mending Sect become someone’s handmaiden? This could ignite a war spanning realms.
“Your Majesty, you are still young. The world holds many beauties—do not fixate on her…” The War King struggled to phrase his warning. Upon hearing the news, his mind reeled, certain that this would drive the Heaven Mending Sect to madness, inviting catastrophe.
Shi Hao chuckled, well aware of his concerns—particularly the fear that he might lose himself in lust, jeopardizing both himself and the empire. “This handmaiden… is not bad,” he replied.
The War King grew anxious. The Lunar Grace Goddess was peerless in beauty, and the young emperor, still in his youth, might easily be ensnared by her charms. Having been young himself, the War King understood the ambitions of prodigies—dreaming of reclining in the laps of beauties while wielding imperial power. But for an emperor, such indulgence was ill-advised.
“I slaughtered a host of Three Sect cultivators. Even if I released the Lunar Grace Goddess and tried to explain, it would be futile. Better to keep her by my side.”
“If that is the case…” The War King’s expression stiffened, his head aching. Steeling himself, he said, “Your Majesty, if you insist on keeping her, at least do not enfeoff her as an imperial consort, nor reveal her true identity. Otherwise, not only the Heaven Mending Sect but all the young elites of other sects will turn against the Stone Nation’s Human Emperor.”
Shi Hao nearly laughed aloud. The War King truly saw him as a child, fearing he would be led astray by desire. Shaking his head wryly, he replied, “Very well. For now, I shall keep her away from the palace. Rest easy, War King.”
“Beauty is fleeting, Your Majesty. Focus on your cultivation,” the War King urged.
Shi Hao’s brow twitched, but he nodded. “Understood.”
In truth, the War King’s own brow twitched upon hearing this. The young emperor truly intended to claim the Lunar Grace Goddess as his own—this was no small matter. Offending the Heaven Mending Sect was one thing, but if word spread, the outrage among the younger generation of all sects would be catastrophic.
Accompanied by the War King, Shi Hao swiftly toured the palace, his brow furrowing. Though the vast complex had withstood the great calamity, it bore heavy damage.
“The palace stands, but many of its grand formations have been destroyed,” the War King sighed.
Undoubtedly, the palace had once housed ancient divine arrays of unparalleled might, yet even these had been shattered. The central Heavenly Palace’s formations were especially ravaged.
An elderly guard recounted how, during the calamity, the previous emperor had mobilized every resource—national fortune and divine formations—to survive. Yet now, his whereabouts remained unknown.
“Perhaps he ascended to the Upper Realm,” the guard mused, recalling a glimpse of a ruptured void, through which the emperor and his guards had vanished.
“May His Majesty be safe, and one day wreak havoc upon the Upper Realm, slaying those arrogant beings!” the War King declared.
Surveying the palace, Shi Hao lamented the loss of the formations—their greatest defense, capable of slaying even Venerable Ones. They had to be restored, even enhanced, to ensnare any retaliating Three Sect cultivators.
Yet the thought of the astronomical resources required made his heart ache. Would the imperial treasury be emptied?
Fragrant breezes carried the scent of medicinal herbs as they passed through the royal gardens into the palace’s herb fields. The air was intoxicating, yet Shi Hao frowned.
“Why so sparse?” he muttered. The imperial herb fields, vast and nourished by spiritual springs, should have been lush with rare plants. Instead, they lay barren, a far cry from his expectations.
“After the calamity, Three Sect cultivators raided the palace, plundering the oldest herbs,” an old guard explained. Worse still, some princes, princesses, and nobles had collaborated, either harvesting for themselves or aiding foreign sects in hopes of seizing the throne.
“The Three Sects must die!” Shi Hao’s voice was icy. Such brazen theft from the imperial palace was an insult to the Stone Nation.
“Rest assured, those treacherous nobles have been confined to their estates,” the War King assured him.
“Good. They shall pay for their crimes,” Shi Hao vowed.
Entering the treasury, his fury reignited—the vast chamber stood nearly empty.
“Some materials were expended by the previous emperor to forge formations against the heavenly tribulation,” the War King explained. “But most were looted by princes and Three Sect cultivators.”
Shi Hao sighed. Though remnants remained, the sight was a far cry from the glittering hoard he had envisioned. How could they restore the divine formations now?
“Your Majesty, this is but the outer treasury. There is an inner vault, no less bountiful,” an old guard revealed.
Shi Hao’s spirits lifted. Proceeding forward, they encountered a massive stone gate, immovable without the imperial seal.
Trusting the War King and the guard, Shi Hao produced the crystalline seal, pressing it to the gate. Instantly, runes flared—tens of thousands of intricate symbols, the most complex formation he had ever seen.
Beyond the gate, golden mists swirled, treasures gleaming amidst radiant haze. This was no mere treasury—it was a divine trove. Within moments, he spotted two divine materials, with untold wonders awaiting discovery.
Among the treasures were four divine swords, each ancient and unique, their auras razor-sharp.
“With these four swords stationed at the palace gates, paired with a grand formation, the results would be staggering!” Shi Hao marveled.
Exiting the vault, his mind still reeled from the riches within. Slung across his back was a mighty halberd, said to be a divine artifact modeled after the legendary Sky Desolation Halberd of the Kunpeng.
Dull and unremarkable at rest, when activated, it erupted with golden fury, terrifying in its might.
“Your Majesty…” The War King’s voice snapped him from his daze.
“What is it?”
“Shall we proceed to the Scripture Pavilion and the Treasure Art Hall?”
Shi Hao’s heart raced. This—this was what he had longed for most.
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