The grasslands—vast, wild, and breathtaking. In the full bloom of summer, they radiate unmatched beauty, but once autumn's chill sets in and winter follows, they transform into barren wastelands where not even weeds dare sprout. For the nomads who call this place home, such seasons bring only hardship and hunger. Thus, across the generations, an unshakable impulse has coursed through their veins:
To march south.
Now, with the grasslands united under a single banner for the first time in decades, the tribes share one clear goal—descend upon the southern lands. There lies the fertile realm of the Wei people, a land of warm rains and rich soil.
Just ten years prior, two mighty warriors had risen from obscurity. Over the span of more than a decade, they crushed defiant warlords and scattered clans, piece by piece stitching the fractured steppe into a single entity. And now, their forces stand strong, their blades sharpened, and their ambitions burning bright.
To make matters worse, the heavens themselves have turned strange, and the bitter north groans beneath the weight of monsters—terrifying beasts warped by celestial change. For the tribes of the steppe, this is no blessing. Their urgency grows. The time to ride south has come. And with the Great Wei fractured and crumbling, its greedy emperor draining his nation to the marrow, there may never be a better chance.
Inside the great command tent, the chieftains of each tribe sat stiff and silent, their gazes focused on the two figures seated at the head of the gathering.
They were known simply as the Elders of Flame and Earth—the strongest cultivators of the steppe tribes. It was by their hand that unruly chiefs were subdued and the chaotic grasslands brought to heel. Though neither bore the title of khan, their authority was second to none.
"The southern campaign offers us two primary routes," one strategist began. "We may strike directly at Shanling Pass, shattering the Wei court's defenses while their civil strife rages. If we pierce the heart of Wei, we could seize the empire in one swift—"
"Enough," came a curt interruption.
One of the elders raised his hand, and the air in the tent grew heavy with searing heat.
"We begin with the Eight Provinces of Prince Yong. That region suits us best."
The chieftains exchanged wary glances but dared not object. Without the strength of the two elders, any assault on the Wei border fortresses would descend into a prolonged bloodbath. Their silence was, in truth, quiet relief.
"Prince Yong's domain bridges the grasslands and the desert," the other elder added. "It shall become a crucial trade hub in years to come. Once it's under our rule, the wealth it brings will flow without end."
"Besides," said the first elder with a sneer, "the Prince Yong lineage once clashed with the imperial court. If anything, the court would prefer to see that bloodline wiped from the earth."
The tent fell still again, the elders' words echoing like prophecy. The Eight Provinces were indeed desirable—fertile, strategic, and vulnerable. But why had the elders not shown any interest in the Wei heartland?
Because they feared the Demon Queen.
Though both elders had reached the late stages of Qi Refinement and cultivated unique, ancient arts that allowed them to challenge even Foundation Establishment cultivators, before the Demon Queen, their strength was dust in the wind.
They survived the old age of chaos only by hiding away—sealing themselves within two ancient spirit crystals for countless years. Had fortune not smiled on them, they would have perished long ago. Even now, though the Queen must have cut her own cultivation to survive into this era, they dared not provoke her. Better to strike at Prince Yong's line than risk the wrath of a woman who once stood unshaken among the world's titans.
~Edit and rewritten by Rikhi, Reiya_Alberich, ReiNyam~
What the chieftains did not know, however, was that the elders had already pledged themselves to her. In exchange for sparing their lives and granting a place to rise again, she demanded one thing:
The annihilation of Prince Yong's entire lineage.
It was inconvenient for her to act directly—her title as Queen, along with other political entanglements, restrained her hand. So, the dirty work fell to them. As reward, the Eight Provinces would be theirs. Their own domain. While its true potential had yet to bloom, in a century or two, it would be a cornerstone of power.
"Prepare the troops," one elder ordered. "When spring arrives, we ride. The Eight Provinces shall be ours."
"Yes, Elder," came the unified reply.
A decision had been made. The path set. Now, all that remained was conquest.
—
In a side hall of Prince Yong's estate, Su Min inhaled deeply.
"Three classics of the third grade," she muttered, eyes narrowing at the pills in her palm.
Three small items—Detoxification Pill, Healing Pill, and Spirit Recovery Pill. Basic staples in any alchemist's arsenal. But these weren't ordinary. All three were Grade Three Pills—proof that Su Min had formally stepped into the ranks of a third-grade alchemist. She was still far from crafting the legendary Foundation Establishment Pill, however. Even with Prince Yong's support, the materials needed for such a feat were rare beyond belief.
"Miss Su, the new batch of materials has arrived," came a voice from the doorway.
"Tch."
Su Min casually swept the three pills into her storage pouch. She rarely used them herself, but that didn't mean they had no value. With a flick of her hand, she summoned two spears and a sword. Cold steel shimmered in the air.
"Bring those three brats to see me. Quickly."
"Yes, Miss."
The steward bowed and turned to leave. Su Min, wasting no time, took the materials from his hands with a gesture and tossed a small vial back at him. Inside were four Qi Induction Pills from her latest batch.
Currently, only three of Prince Yong's cultivators had reached the Qi Refinement stage. As for the others, they weren't ready to break through—those pills would be wasted on them. But Su Min continued refining them nonetheless. These pills were never truly in excess. No matter how advanced the world became, their value would remain constant.
As for summoning the three boys—she had finished forging their weapons.
[Frostbane Sword (Yellow Tier, Mid-Grade): Enhances ice-attribute techniques.]
[Galebreaker Spear (Yellow Tier, Mid-Grade): Enhances wind-attribute techniques.]
[Emberpike Spear (Yellow Tier, Mid-Grade): Enhances fire-attribute techniques.]
Simple. Brutal. Effective.
With her current skill, Su Min couldn't craft anything too elaborate. But for cultivators in the Qi Refinement or even early Foundation Establishment stage, these weapons were more than sufficient. Against Golden Core cultivators, they'd struggle—but still outperformed ordinary arms.
"Whoa!"
The three young men gawked, eyes shining as they beheld the weapons arrayed before Su Min. Ever since the awakening of the Heavenly Revelations, it had been the young who forged ahead. These three were no exception. Though not yet seasoned, they were filled with passion. The sight of such powerful weapons left them salivating—like lovestruck fools before a goddess.
As for Su Min, they barely registered her presence—not because she lacked beauty, but because they instinctively saw her as a senior, an elder worthy of awe. Yet, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, a flicker of annoyance stirred in Su Min's heart.
Just a little.