"What is that?!" Mo Shougui exclaimed, stunned, a trace of disbelief flashing in his eyes. Was that... a living being? Could one of the buried entities in this Immortal Palace still be alive?
Xiang Shaoyun's breath caught in his throat. With his axe in hand, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to strike at any moment. After all, anything buried in this underground palace might possess unfathomable strength.
And that wasn't all. Inside the central chamber, apart from the emaciated Taoist figure who had risen from the coffin, there were dozens of eerie little specters and goblins crawling across the walls, the floor, and even hanging upside down from the ceiling.
Flanking the sarcophagus stood two towering figures clad in ancient armor, each nearly two meters tall—monstrous beings as if they had stepped out from the depths of the netherworld. They gripped massive polearms, cold gleams flashing from their blades.
"A general? Or perhaps... the commanders of these lesser spirits?" Li Sansi, seasoned by years of campaigning at the frontier, immediately recognized the formation and offered his insight.
"The general is likely the one who rose from the coffin. As for those two—they're the commanders. But much stronger than the rest. Their bodies brim with spiritual energy—ten wisps each. They are comparable to a Grandmaster at the Ninth Echo. Formidable indeed," Xiang Shaoyun commented.
For something to be deemed "formidable" by the West County Overlord, it spoke volumes about the strength of these two spectral commanders.
"What's the plan?" Li Sansi's gaze sharpened, eyes locking with Xiang Shaoyun's.
"I'll deal with the one who rose from the coffin. The three of you, handle the commanders," Xiang Shaoyun replied coolly. "If you can't... you know the price."
"Why should you take on that dried-up Taoist?" Mo Shougui retorted.
Xiang Shaoyun narrowed his eyes, his broad frame shifting slightly. He cast a cold glance at Mo Shougui. "If you think you're up to it, go ahead."
"You're not," came the blunt rebuttal.
"Don't be fooled by the Taoist's withered appearance. To be laid to rest within a sarcophagus at the heart of the Immortal Palace marks one of supreme status. He may very well be the very 'Immortal' who constructed this place. Perhaps only the Overlord stands a chance. You, Mo Shougui... are out of your depth," Kong Nanfeng added, withdrawing several bundles of bamboo slips from his scholar's chest.
Mo Shougui opened his mouth, but no words came.
Xiang Shaoyun could not be bothered with him any longer.
With a sudden roar, he brandished his axe and charged.
"Go!"
Boom! The moment the Overlord moved, the entire Immortal Palace seemed to tremble.
Li Sansi swept his wooden sword and followed suit.
Kong Nanfeng, face solemn, unfurled the bamboo slips. Chanting under his breath, righteous Confucian energy surged within the Immortal Palace, driving away the creeping fiends.
Mo Shougui, his face cold, drew his sword and dashed at one of the spectral commanders wielding a polearm.
The battle erupted in an instant!
At the heart of the central chamber—the coffin.
The emaciated Taoist's skin was shriveled, void of vitality, green ghostfire dancing in his eyes with an eerie glint. Yet behind those eyes, confusion lingered.
Xiang Shaoyun's axe danced like a tempest. The minor ghosts and spirits were mere paper before him—one swing, one kill. With his blood surging and spiritual energy roaring within him, his strength only intensified. He relished in this overwhelming power.
The two commanders swept their blades with spiritual force. Even the air groaned in resistance as they slashed toward Xiang Shaoyun.
"Li Sansi!" Xiang Shaoyun's hair flew as he roared with resolve.
A wooden sword fell from above.
Li Sansi, in his white robes, landed lightly. Spiritual energy surged from his dantian and coursed through his body. Stepping into the Seven Stars Stance, he unleashed two swift slashes, intercepting the commander's strike.
His face turned red, blood threatening to spill from his lips.
On the other side, Mo Shougui too fell to intercept a blow.
"Ten wisps of spiritual energy… they rival a Grandmaster of Ten Echoes!" Mo Shougui's heart trembled.
With the two of them holding off the commanders, Xiang Shaoyun pressed forward, axe in hand, advancing upon the skeletal Taoist in the coffin.
"My name is Jiang Chao, an ancient cultivator in the Qi Condensation realm, at the peak of Great Completion," the shriveled Taoist spoke. His voice was raspy, hoarse, and yet carried a majestic weight.
Xiang Shaoyun's eyes narrowed.
Qi Condensation Great Completion? How could it be?!
He wasn't naive—he knew exactly what that realm meant. When the dantian is filled to its brim with spiritual energy, it signifies the peak of Qi Condensation.
But what confused him was this—such a lowly realm should not befit the Immortal Palace!
"I fought alongside the ancient Emperor to suppress rebellion. In the bloody fields, I fell, slain by traitorous cultivators of the 'Body Treasury' path. Buried beneath Wolong Ridge… and yet… why do I still live?"
The Taoist's voice echoed with confusion.
Xiang Shaoyun approached, step by step, axe and shield at the ready. His gaze swept across the sarcophagus.
Suddenly, his eyes sharpened. Behind the coffin, the entrance to the rear chamber stood open. Upon a stone rack within, several sheets of aged parchment lay strewn.
"Cultivation techniques!" Xiang Shaoyun's eyes lit up with fervor.
His breath quickened. What did he need most right now? Cultivation techniques. With them, he could guide spiritual energy into his body, no longer letting it dissipate in vain!
"But… why do I still live?!"
Boom! The Taoist let out a soul-shaking cry.
Xiang Shaoyun, who had intended to dart around him toward the back room, was suddenly repelled by the oppressive spiritual pressure.
He staggered back several steps.
"Hm?" His eyes narrowed.
"This pressure... is much weaker than the one five miles outside the palace," he noted.
Still, with this mad, emaciated Taoist standing in his way, there was no safe path to the cultivation methods.
"Why do you still live?"
"You claim to be an ancient cultivator? Laughable. Do you even know what age this is now?"
"You didn't survive. The 'Immortal' simply forbade your death. You were made to guard the techniques... You are nothing but a puppet!"
"And a mere puppet dares to block the Overlord of Western County?!"
Xiang Shaoyun's eyes burned like torches. One hand held the shield, the other the axe. Blood and spirit surged through him like a war drum, reverberating through the burial chamber.
In the distance, Li Sansi and Mo Shougui—both bloodied from battling the commanders—exchanged glances.
"As expected of the Overlord… With just a few words, he's left that reanimated corpse dazed," Li Sansi remarked with admiration.
With a light flick, his wooden sword deflected the descending polearm. Then, with a single hand, he stood poised, sword behind his back, lips trembling as blood streamed from his mouth.
Within the coffin, the Taoist's eyes flickered with confusion, clearly thrown off by Xiang Shaoyun's barrage of words.
Taking advantage of this momentary daze, Xiang Shaoyun struck.
With a roar, he swung his axe with unrestrained might. Blood and spiritual power surged. The very air crackled as the blow descended straight for the Taoist's skull—
...
Northern Luo, Heartlake Island.
Lu Fan lounged lazily in his wheelchair. Ni Yu reached for his bronze goblet, intending to pour him a drink, only to be waved off.
Lu Fan rested one hand beneath his chin, the other pinching the bridge of his nose. His gaze was deep, tracking the figures on the spiritual chessboard, the lines dancing across his eyes.
"Hm... caught in a bug already. This Xiang Shaoyun—hailed as the Overlord of West County—really does have something to him," Lu Fan mused.
It was his first time designing a secret realm, and he had overlooked something elementary.
The Qi Cultivator boss was inspired by ancient texts from the Five Phoenix Continent, based on tales of the emperor's war against rebellion.
One such text recounted: "The Emperor waged war upon the rebels. They summoned phoenix fire from the heavens; the Emperor commanded Wu Chao to conjure water—thus the fire was quelled, and the traitors annihilated."
A cultivator awakening from such legends... why would his first words not reflect the ancient tongue?
Lu Fan pinched his brow again.
Still, though flawed, the problem wasn't critical. He was not one to be vexed by trivialities.
"This Overlord is too headstrong. He's never felt the true cruelty of the world. He needs tempering, or else he'll suffer dearly in the future."
Moreover, Lu Fan was intrigued—would these people, when pushed to the brink, awaken their hidden potential?
Building a world was not merely about reshaping its lands, but forging true strength.
And true strength... was always born from the crucible of despair.
Lu Fan narrowed his eyes.
A breeze stirred.
Rolling up his sleeves, he picked up a chess piece and placed it softly on the board.
...
Inside the Immortal Palace's central chamber.
Xiang Shaoyun's gaze burned like fire. The instant the shriveled Taoist fell into a daze from his verbal onslaught, the long axe cleaved through the air—unstoppable.
The sheer force of it cracked the very atmosphere.
This swing carried only one intent—
To kill.