The north bloomed like never before. Roads gleamed with spirit-paved stone, caravans stretching endlessly under banners of peace. Vulcan's forges belched endless steel—weapons sharp as fate, armour light as wind. Academies overflowed: Ironmist's halls rang with qi chants, and Shadow Gorge's towers sparked array lights. Farmers' kids swung swords beside refugees' daughters, all calling me Sovereign.
Trade hit a golden age. No taxes choked the flow. Wu silks piled high beside Huang jade. Freeport spices scented markets. Our beast cores and hides monopolised everything—kings begged for crates. Escorts flew flawless Hellfire patrols, marching free roads. Gold-filled vaults without a single tithe.
Foreign kingdoms watched, then knelt.
Wu's emperor arrived first, crown in hands, kneeling plaza-deep. "Sovereign Chen, your steel saved our legions. Fealty sworn—trade eternal, borders yours to guard." Huang's empress followed, jade seal offered. "Academies are unmatched. Our sects send pupils. Loyalty is absolute." Freeport captains bowed seas away: "Your drake rules waves. Tribute flows north."
I accepted simple oaths—no crowns demanded. "Trade as brothers. Loyalty earned daily."
Crowds cheered wagon trains heavier each dawn. Refugees swelled to citizens—villages to cities. Academies graduated hundreds: qi sparks lighting night skies. The north wasn't land anymore. It breathed wealth, safe and free.
But Wu tested first.
Moon Shadows caught them slipping borders—fifty elite spies, cloaked in mist arts, probing academy secrets. "Foreign probe," General Meiyin's whisper ghosted my ear. "Wu Kingdom. They seek weaknesses."
Mist Eyes moved silently. Veiled women blended with refugees, merchants, and the wind itself. Spies reached Ironmist's outer walls, eyes hungry for forge maps.
They never returned.
Silent Hands struck midnight: daggers from sleeves, poison from breaths. Illusion Veils turned alleys to graves. Mist Eyes watched kingdoms, reporting crisply: "Wu spies vanished. No trace. They fear you now."
Wu's court panicked. The emperor burned scout lists, and borders were sealed tight. Envoys arrived trembling: "Mercy, Sovereign! Probe was rogue. Fealty doubled."
I smiled faintly. "Fear guards better than swords."
The golden age deepened. Academies birthed wonders: spirit lanterns lighting whole valleys, healing arrays mending wounds for free. Trade roads birthed inns—Vulcan's apprentices crafting endlessly. The mortal army swelled with loyal farmers blacksmithing spears between harvests and kids sparring in drake-shadowed skies.
Yue Zhilan walked with me one dawn. "Children laugh here. Not in empires."
Mo Han grunted nearby. "My demons train them rough. They endure."
Lin Dao tallied scrolls. Revenue triples yearly. No taxes, endless cycle. Foreign fealty: twelve kingdoms now."
Wen Zixing beamed. "Population booms. Happiness is higher than ever."
Vulcan hammered the plaza forge, crowds watching. "My blades arm the world!"
Silver Drake circled lazily, thunder rumbling contentedly.
But stars shifted that night.
I stood tower-top, Eternal Sovereign's Fang humming a faint warning. The sky above the mountains glittered wrong—stars pulsing red, unnatural. No aurora. No comet. Something watched.
Yue Zhilan joined, spear rising. "Heavenly qi stirs. Not ours."
Lin Dao arrived breathless. "Reports from Mist Eyes—celestial anomalies. Star maps shift. Foreign sects whisper: 'Tribulation from above.'"
Mo Han gripped the halberd. "God's jealous?"
Meiyin melted from the dark. "Kingdoms are blind to it. But Wu priests panic: 'A heavenly threat looms.'
I gripped the hilt tighter. Stars weren't twinkling. They glared—ancient eyes piercing clouds, probing the north's golden light.
The system chimed low.
"Ding! Heavenly Observation Detected. Foreign Fealty maxed. The Golden Age of Trade Achieved. Warning: Celestial Probe Active. New Quest: 'Stars That Hunger'—Prepare for descent. Reward: Starfall Defence Array."
Foreign kings knelt deeper, tribute wagons endless. Academies shone brightest. Trade roads pulsed life.
But above mountains, stars hungered—not for gold, but for power blooming below.
Wu spies vanished. Fear sealed borders. The golden age peaked flawlessly.
Yet starlight turned a cold gaze south. A heavenly threat loomed—not beast, not army. Something divine watched the untouchable king build paradise.
And paradise drew envy from the skies themselves.