Yang Su was at home when a demonic voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
"Go and rescue my daughter Dugu Ningke, and remove Yuwen Tuo while you're at it. He already knows the identities of you and Ningke."
The teacup in Yang Su's hand slipped and shattered on the floor.
"Lord Demon, what are you saying? How could Yuwen Tuo possibly know our identities!"
By all logic, there was no way that man could have discovered his concealment. Yuwen Tuo's strength was respectable, and he did possess ancient artifacts—but Yang Su still held Shan Yuwu, Yuwen Tuo's mother, as leverage. With that card in hand, he had believed himself invincible.
"Hmph. I know all about Yuwen Tuo. Go, rescue Ningke at once, then work together to gather the artifacts and shatter this Shenzhou barrier."
"Yes, Lord Demon."
A glint of icy light flashed in Yang Su's eyes. One day, I'll destroy you too.
The matter was urgent. Yang Su took no attendants and drove straight to Yuwen Tuo's residence. He wanted to see what trick this fellow had pulled to discover Ningke's identity. He himself hadn't realized she was the Demon Realm's daughter—no wonder she'd always resisted when he tried to use her in the past. So that was the connection.
He could understand why the Demon Lord didn't trust him. Even the Demon Lord's plans to invade the lands of China were no secret to him. Bargaining with a tiger for its skin—that was Yang Su's favorite game, because it let him maximize his profits.
If I can seize Ningke, I'll hold the Demon Lord's lifeline; add Yuwen Tuo's machinations, and this world will be within my grasp…
About the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn later, Yang Su arrived at Yuwen Tuo's home.
"Greetings to Situ Yang."
"Hmm. Where is your general?" Yang Su asked lightly, the very picture of measured arrogance.
"The general is in the rear courtyard, Situ Yang. Please…"
In the backyard, Yuwen Tuo was turning the Xuanyuan Sword in his hand. This blade could only be wielded by the descendants of the Xuanyuan line. Otherwise, Yang Su would have stolen it long ago. Though he could not use it himself, greed flashed in his eyes every time he saw it.
"Yang Su, what business do you have with me?"
The tone was unfamiliar—cold.
Situ Yang's brow creased. How dare he speak to me like this? Has he gone mad?
Yang Su stepped forward, an odd smile touching his lips. "Your mother Shan Yuwu seems rather unwell lately. Would you care to visit her?"
"Using my family to threaten me again? Tiresome. You do realize… the moment you set foot here, you fell into my illusion."
To subdue Yang Su and save his mother, Yuwen Tuo had always intended to kill him before the man realized it. When he chose his divine arts, he had deliberately selected those of the Illusion branch.
After consulting with the chat group, Yuwen Tuo understood that one's choice of a primary divine art did not lock one's future path. In that case, why not choose the technique most useful right now?
"What are you babbling about—illusion…? Hah, your dog's gone rabid!"
Yang Su gathered his aura and struck at Yuwen Tuo.
His attack passed straight through Yuwen Tuo's body and slammed into the ground.
The sight jolted him. Yang Su staggered back—and found only darkness at his rear.
"Respectfully sending Situ Yang on his way…"
Who was speaking? That little boy? Impossible. His body moved, but he could not control it. Yang Su's soul was imprisoned in the depths of his sea of consciousness, forced to watch himself mount a horse and pay visits in succession. Whether speaking or conversing, "he" revealed not a single flaw.
The horror of it chilled him to the marrow.
When "he" finally returned home, Yang Su heard himself order, "Send Shan Yuwu to Yuwen Tuo immediately. Let no one find out."
"Does Situ truly wish this?"
"This is secret. Do you understand?"
"Your subordinate wouldn't dare."
Thus Yang Su watched his body return to its chamber and sit before the mirror.
"Now do you understand? This is how you tormented me."
"Yang Su, you made me into a dog. I'll play you to death. A pity your station is too high—otherwise I'd take my time torturing you."
A wet thud hit the floor. Flesh fell—and stilled. Vitality faded.
A black, terrifying force unraveled Yang Su's soul. He struggled, but could not resist the erosion.
Two hours later, cries erupted from Yang Su's estate.
Situ Yang, who held half the court in his grasp, had been mysteriously slain!
The emperor's most important minister was dead; the entire Daxing court was left headless. Meanwhile, Yuwen Tuo discussed the Faith's development with his mother. Though he had many stratagems, he was not as shrewd as Shan Yuwu.
The next day—
"Your Majesty, General Yuwen awaits outside!"
"Very well… let him in."
Yang Guang spoke slowly. In his youth he had been an emperor burning with ambition; age had blunted his edge. Each morning he woke wishing for a little more sleep.
Moments later, Yuwen Tuo stood before the emperor. Their gazes met. A sliver of black light slid into Yang Guang's spiritual platform and imprisoned his soul. A strange phantom took the throne of his body.
[Darkness Magic: Seed Magic]
Yuwen Tuo felt the link form and allowed himself a discreet breath of relief. Not bad—quickly done, with no one the wiser.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing.
"Rise. With Yang Aiqing's recent death, no one is ready to assume his post. You shall inherit it for now."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Several courtiers frowned at such a casual transfer of power. "Your Majesty, we should proceed with caution. There is something strange about Yang Su's death."
"Hm? Are you instructing me how to rule?"
The emperor's indifferent gaze was more terrifying than a beast's. In an instant, the ten courtiers in attendance fell silent, not daring another word. They had almost forgotten—Yang Guang was a cruel emperor, quick to kill without considering consequences.
Yuwen Tuo lowered his head and hid a smirk. Mystic magic was truly convenient. He had seized the emperor with ease, and no one noticed a thing. Now his plan could unfold.
That same day, Yuwen Tuo absorbed Yang Su's faction. Any who dissented were beheaded—none left alive. With Shan Yuwu's help, he then guided thousands of troops into becoming believers.
The day after—
Yang Guang summoned the court and announced:
"Last night I dreamed of a god-man. He is the only true god in this world. We shall establish a Faith and worship the God. Which of you will oversee the altar's construction?"
At this, eighty percent of the courtiers twitched visibly. The emperor had taken leave of his senses. The Grand Canal was not even complete, and now he wanted a massive new project? None of them dared touch it. Whoever took that responsibility would be setting himself against both people and clans.
"The minister is willing to oversee it," said Yuwen Tuo. "But I am unsure what offerings the God requires?"
Yang Guang pondered. "The most precious things in the world should be offered. I've heard you possess the Kunlun Mirror and the Xuanyuan Sword. Could you sacrifice them to the God?"
Silence fell over the hall. Everyone knew Yuwen Tuo held the Xuanyuan Sword; few had expected the Kunlun Mirror to be in his hands as well. But could they truly take food from a tiger's mouth? They all turned to Yuwen Tuo—and saw no anger on his face.
"The minister is willing to sacrifice both artifacts," he said evenly.
"Excellent. Do you see, my lords? This is General Yuwen—willing to give anything for the sake of the realm's patron. Since that is so, I grant you the rank of Guoshi—National Preceptor. Supervise the altar and see the worship done when it is complete."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
No one realized this was Yuwen Tuo's plot. They merely thought him unusually compliant since Yang Su's death—no longer domineering, but a deferential courtier. The transformation surprised them.
In the Demon Realm, the Demon Lord felt Yang Su's mark vanish and flew into a rage.
"What is Yuwen Tuo's origin? How did he ruin my plan!"
He lowered his sight to observe the mortal world—only to discover that most of his informants had lost contact. Only Ruyan remained.
Damn.
He had calculated everything: use Yang Su and Ningke to break the seal, descend into that world. Could Yuwen Tuo have received aid from Nuwa and others? Impossible—they could no longer awaken!
Unease flickered in the Demon Lord's eyes. He sensed something terrible was taking shape.
A Chinese Ghost Story
In an ordinary tavern, a bearded swordsman sat before platters of roast chicken, goose, and other meats. The dishes weren't expensive, but he ate and drank like a starving man.
The floor attendant watched with trepidation, afraid the man would keel over from sickness and die on the spot. If that happened, his wages would be gone. Heaven grant no accidents with this master.
"Ah…"
At length the bearded man lowered his cup and leaned back, staring at the rafters in confusion. He had done many good deeds in his life, and now Gods had appeared—asking him to believe. He still found it hard to accept. True, this world had immortals and spirits, but what was he—Yan Chixia—in the grand scheme? He knew some rudimentary martial arts and a handful of spells. To claim the Gods would favor him—who could believe it?
"But… if I don't believe," he muttered, "then how is it that the General Yuwen who joined the group with me has already killed Yang Su—and Yang Su was the great pillar of the Sui court…"
Yan Chixia rubbed his nose, debating whether to join the Faith. He wasn't especially skilled. Joining a sect without many burdens could give him security. Some among them had harsher methods; but those who accomplish great things are rarely soft. Besides, this was a power that governed an entire world.
Curiosity tugged at him, and Yuwen Tuo's example drew him further. Quietly, Yan Chixia downloaded the divine method and became another envoy of the Faith. He wasn't a schemer; he only wanted, after a hard life, to live a better one.