From the towering city gates to the resplendent imperial palace, the long ceremonial avenue was flanked on both sides by kneeling masses—civil and military officials of the Holy Dynasty, elite armored soldiers, and countless cultivators and commoners permitted to witness the ceremony.
The air was thick with solemnity, fervor, and the immense anticipation of history about to be sealed.
Music and ritual drums sounded together, shaking the nine heavens.
Under the gaze of countless eyes, Crown Prince Ye Fan, clad in a black-and-gold four-clawed python robe, walked with steady steps along the crimson carpet toward the Lingxiao Treasure Hall—the symbol of supreme power in the Spirit Realm.
Behind him, two fiercely imposing guards escorted a young man bound head to toe in Rune Chains, his clothes in tatters, yet still holding his head high—Hong Longxiang, the last heir of Xianling Valley, the ultimate captive of this war.
Ye Fan's expression was perfectly calm, betraying neither the arrogance of a victor nor the excitement of one about to reach the summit.
He passed through the kneeling crowds, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the open doors of the great hall that seemed capable of swallowing all light.
The moment he stepped into the hall, the clamor was shut out behind him. Within, the atmosphere was solemn and oppressive.
Civil and military officials stood in two rows on either side, heads bowed in reverence. At the far end of the hall, atop the high Nine-Dragon Golden Steps, Holy Emperor Qin Ao was carefully supported by two close attendants, barely managing to sit upon the massive dragon throne.
His face was sallow, his eye sockets sunken, his breathing so faint it was nearly imperceptible. Only those clouded eyes, the instant Ye Fan crossed the threshold, blazed with a last glimmer of stubborn, fading light.
The three remaining Sages—Ling Guzi, Han Junru, and Xuan Mingzi—stood at the forefront of the officials, their expressions vastly different. Ling Guzi's gaze was deep and scrutinizing; Han Junru's face showed wistful emotion; Xuan Mingzi remained as cold as ever. Their eyes fell more upon Hong Longxiang behind Ye Fan—that was the "fruit" they truly cared about.
Ye Fan ignored everyone's gazes, walking straight to the foot of the golden steps, lifting his robe, and solemnly dropping to both knees in a full kowtow.
"Father, your son... has returned."
His voice was not loud, but it echoed clearly through the silent hall.
Qin Ao's body trembled slightly. He laboriously raised his withered hand, his lips moving to produce a voice as hoarse as a bellows.
"Good... good... it's good that you're back..."
"...come, Fan'er... come to your father's side..."
"...let me... have a good look at you..."
Ye Fan rose and climbed the golden steps one by one until he reached the dragon throne. He knelt again, looking up at this dying man who had entrusted everything to him—the man he called "Father."
Qin Ao's trembling hand slowly rose and rested upon Ye Fan's head. The palm was ice-cold, yet carried a weight of absolute, unconditional trust and entrustment.
His eyes held complex emotions—relief, reluctance, pride—before they all dissolved into a tranquil peace.
"I... have not much time left..." Qin Ao summoned his last reserves of strength, his voice rising slightly. Though still hoarse, it carried an unquestionable authority that resonated throughout the entire hall.
"Let it be known... my final decree..."
Everyone's heart leaped into their throat.
"Crown Prince Ye Fan... is loyal, filial, benevolent, and virtuous..."
"...accomplished in both letters and martial arts... fit for the great burden..."
"...effective from this day forward... he shall inherit the throne..."
"...and become the Holy Dynasty's... second Holy Emperor..."
"...you all... must serve him faithfully..."
"...and protect this realm... for ten thousand years..."
With the last word spoken, Qin Ao seemed to have expended the final wisp of his life force. The hand resting on Ye Fan's head slipped away powerlessly, and his body went limp, slowly falling backward. Those eyes, still fixed on Ye Fan, brimming with contentment and peace, gently closed.
"Father!" Ye Fan cried softly, stepping forward to gently catch Qin Ao's collapsing body. He slowly eased him back onto the dragon throne, letting him sit as though merely asleep.
The hall fell into a deathly silence. You could hear a pin drop.
Everyone held their breath, witnessing the fall of a great lord and the birth of a new emperor.
Ye Fan stood beside the dragon throne, looking down at the kneeling ministers below, his gaze finally settling on Qin Ao's serene remains. In a voice only he could hear, he whispered ever so softly:
"To be able to depart at this moment, as a victor, with no regrets... perhaps this is the best ending for you..."
That whisper carried an indescribable complexity.
After a brief silence came a thunderous chorus of obeisance.
"We subjects pay homage to His Majesty the Holy Emperor!"
"Long live! Long live! Long live forever!"
A new emperor ascended the throne; the old emperor had passed. The transfer of power appeared to be completed smoothly in this moment.
Yet, in this delicate instant of transition, the three Sages exchanged glances, no longer concealing their impatience. To them, Qin Ao's life or death was irrelevant, and Ye Fan's coronation had long been expected. Their only goal was to complete the final ritual—executing Hong Longxiang and putting a decisive end to this game!
Ling Guzi stepped forward first, his voice mild but carrying an irrefutable undertone.
"Emperor Ye, the old emperor has passed, and the new emperor has been crowned. However, the chess game of this realm still lacks its final move. Please hand over this traitor Hong Longxiang to our custody, so that we may finish this once and for all."
Han Junru and Xuan Mingzi also stepped forward simultaneously, their auras locking onto the bound Hong Longxiang.
Ye Fan slowly turned to face the three Sages, his face betraying no expression—neither agreement nor refusal.
At that moment, everything changed!
Hong Longxiang, who had been restrained by Rune Chains with his head bowed low, suddenly snapped his head up! There was no fear on his face, no despair—only a blood-soaked, maddened, mocking grin!
"All of you... GO TO HELL!!!"
He let out a beast-like roar, and the aura that had been suppressed within him erupted like a volcano! It was not the power of the Longevity Realm, but something far more ancient, far more violent—a terrifying force that seemed to originate from primordial chaos! Countless profound golden runes surfaced across his skin, which cracked inch by inch, radiating destructive brilliance!
"No! It's the self-detonation of the Ancient Heaven-Piercing Holy Body! Fall back!" Ling Guzi's face contorted in horror as he screamed in alarm!
But it was too late!
"BOOM———!!!!!!!"
An earth-shattering explosion erupted alongside blinding golden light! Hong Longxiang's body became a sun of annihilation, and the devastating shockwave spread outward like a raging tsunami!
The three Sages, caught at the very epicenter, despite their profound cultivation, had no time to mount an effective defense against such a point-blank, resolute self-detonation!
"SPLAT!" "SPLAT!" "SPLAT!"
All three spat out mouthfuls of blood simultaneously. Their protective aura shattered instantly, and their bodies were sent flying as if struck by giant hammers, crashing into pillars and walls. Their vital energies plummeted to the lowest ebb—they were gravely wounded!
The entire Lingxiao Treasure Hall shook violently. Beams cracked, rubble rained down, and chaos reigned! Below, the civil and military officials were thrown to the ground by the shockwave, suffering heavy casualties!
And before the sudden chaos and explosion's dust could even settle—
Ye Fan's icy, murderous voice cracked like thunder:
"Guards! Protect the emperor! Ling Guzi, Han Junru, Xuan Mingzi—these three, taking advantage of the late emperor's passing and the new emperor's coronation, have attempted to assassinate me and usurp the throne!"
"Kill them all without mercy!"
The three gravely wounded Sages heard this with shock and fury, scarcely believing their own ears!
Outside the hall, the Imperial Guard elite—heavily armored, weapons drawn, lying in wait for this very moment—poured in like a tidal wave! Blades and shadows of swords instantly surrounded the three wounded Sages! Murderous intent filled the air!
"Ye Fan! You're insane!!" Ling Guzi struggled to his feet, furious and horrified, roaring hoarsely.
"We would have killed Hong Longxiang and left the Spirit Realm! We would never have stood in the way of you being ruler of this realm! Why are you doing this?!"
Han Junru's face was filled with disbelief as well.
"Emperor Ye! What is the meaning of this?! We are Immortal Venerables of the upper realm—how could we covet your throne in this lower world?!"
Xuan Mingzi trembled with rage, glaring fixedly at Ye Fan.
Ye Fan stood atop the high golden steps, looking down at the chaos below and the three enraged Sages, his lips curving into an icy arc, still not answering.
At this point, even the dullest among the three Sages realized the truth!
Ling Guzi's pupils constricted violently. He pointed at Ye Fan, his voice trembling with extreme shock and fury.
"You... you were never one of us! You're a spy!"
"From the very beginning, you were a planted piece of Chen Chang'an!"
"A trick! It was all a trick!!"
Ye Fan finally spoke, his voice flat and cold as ice.
"Only realizing it now? Pity. It's too late."
"So be it!" Ling Guzi laughed from sheer rage, forcefully suppressing his injuries as a fearsome aura erupted from him. Though gravely wounded, his Immortal Venerable foundation remained.
"As long as I kill you, we still win! Do you think this rabble can stop us?!"
Han Junru and Xuan Mingzi also burned their remaining mana, preparing to fight to the death!
At this critical juncture—
A figure in pure white appeared silently in the shadows at one side of the hall. It was Zhu Qingcheng!
Seeing Zhu Qingcheng appear, the three Sages' eyes lit up instantly! Zhu Qingcheng's strength was unfathomable—with her aid, they might yet turn the tide!
"Immortal Venerable Zhu!" Ling Guzi called out urgently.
"Ye Fan is a spy from the lower realm! Help us slay this traitor! Clean house!"
Zhu Qingcheng's face was expressionless. She nodded slowly and stepped forward, walking toward the golden steps where Ye Fan stood.
The Imperial Guard soldiers instinctively parted to make way.
The three Sages' hearts leapt with joy, believing reinforcements had arrived. They surged toward Ye Fan with renewed effort, attempting to form a pincer attack with Zhu Qingcheng!
However, just as they were about to converge with Zhu Qingcheng and launch their full assault on Ye Fan—
Everything changed again!
Zhu Qingcheng's figure blurred! In the next instant, she did not attack Ye Fan—instead, she appeared behind Han Junru like a phantom!
A sword had somehow materialized in her hand!
"SHLUCK—!"
The soft sound of a blade piercing flesh!
Han Junru's forward-charging body froze. He looked down in disbelief at the sword tip protruding from his chest.
He turned his head with difficulty, looking at that still-cold, stunningly beautiful face behind him.
"Why..."
Zhu Qingcheng flicked her wrist, withdrawing the sword in a spray of scalding blood. At the same time, her left palm struck out effortlessly, landing squarely on the back of an equally horrified Xuan Mingzi!
Xuan Mingzi was hit as if by a sledgehammer. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body was sent flying like a kite with a severed string. His aura instantly withered, and he did not rise again.
In a flash of lightning, two Sages—one dead, one critically wounded!
Only Ling Guzi remained, barely avoiding Zhu Qingcheng's ambush. He stumbled back in utter horror, staring at this sudden, incomprehensible betrayal!
He glared at Zhu Qingcheng, shocked and furious, his voice shrill.
"Zhu Qingcheng! What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!"
Zhu Qingcheng slowly turned, holding the blood-dripping sword, standing at Ye Fan's side, shoulder to shoulder with him.
Facing Ling Guzi's anguished accusation, the perpetual frost on her face—like snow under spring sunlight—began to melt away.
A smile of breathtaking, world-shattering beauty slowly bloomed at the corners of her lips. That smile was no longer hollow and lifeless, but brimming with vivid emotion, cunning vivacity, and... a liberation of joy long suppressed and finally released!
She looked at Ling Guzi, her red lips parting slightly. Her voice was no longer the cold, flat tone from before, but carried a languid, magnetic allure. Word by word, it rang clearly through the deathly silent hall:
"Zhu Qingcheng?"
"She died long ago."
"Also, my name is—Ji, Hong, Li."
Ling Guzi was struck as if by lightning. His entire body convulsed, his pupils dilated to their absolute limit, his face filled with total, absurd, unacceptable horror and despair!
He whipped his head around to look at Ye Fan on the golden steps, who had been terrifyingly calm from start to finish. Ye Fan's aura suddenly transformed—a vast, overwhelming pressure far surpassing the Longevity Realm, as if merging with heaven and earth itself, slowly spread outward!
"You... you've actually... also reached the Heaven-Human Realm?!" Ling Guzi's voice was hoarse with despair.
Ye Fan and "Ji Hongli" exchanged a smile. That smile was filled with tacit understanding, relief, and... the composure of an earth-shaking chess game spanning decades and crossing two generations, finally reaching its endgame.
Within the great hall, the scales of victory, in this moment, were completely and utterly reversed!
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