The interior of Chu Xueyu’s palace was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow provided by floating lanterns carved from dragon-eye jade.
In the private quarters of Shen Haoran, the air was filled with the scent of high-grade spirit incense and the quiet, rhythmic humming of protective arrays, capable of even withstanding full blown attack from a Supre.
Shen Haoran sat on the edge of his massive bed, his feet resting firmly on the polished floor, while Ning Xueli knelt behind him, massaging his shoulders.
Her movents were fluid and practiced, her slender fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to his shoulders, working out the residual tension of a year spent in the muddy lower realms.
"Haoran," Xueli began, her voice low and focused, "there are only three people you should truly worry about in this upcoming tournant. The first is the Descendant of the Third Enshrined Elder, Shen Tao; the second is the Descendant of the Second Enshrined Elder, Shen Jian; and finally, the Disciple of the First Enshrined Elder, Shen Fei. All three of them have officially reached the Nascent Soul realm within the last six months."
He frowned, "Shen Tao? Isn’t that the guy whose Supre Bone was stolen, and was deed crippled and unable to cultivate? He’s actually part of the Crown?"
Truthfully, Haoran didn’t really pay any attention to the mbers of the Crowns, after all, in his mind, they were far inferior to him.
"Yes. But he was able to actually defy his fate and beca a genuine body cultivator. With no Qi to rely on, he trained his body to break their limits and possessed the combat power of a Nascent Soul Realm Cultivator."
Haoran leaned his head back slightly, his golden eyes half-closed as he absorbed the information.
"... that’s, interesting. And the fourth to tenth?" he asked, his tone devoid of any real concern.
"Nothing to worry about," Xueli replied, shifting her weight to focus on the knot in his left shoulder. "The fourth Crown, Shen Xinye, is currently stuck at the peak of the Golden Core realm, struggling with a foundation bottleneck. The tenth is even further behind, only at the 8th Stage of the Golden Core. In truth, the gap between the top three and the rest is like a chasm."
"Heh," Haoran let out a short, dry chuckle. "So only three are actually worth sothing? It seems like the Shen Clan’s younger generation is getting worse and worse. In my mother’s generation, every single mber of the Ten Crowns was already at the Nascent Soul realm by the ti they turned twenty five. The youngest of them was only twenty-four years old when they reached that realm."
As he thought that, Haoran suddenly furrowed his brows as a look of deep contemplation crossing his face.
The quality of the spiritual Qi in this domain has remained constant for a hundred thousand years, not to ntion their cultivation techniques have only beco more refined and efficient over ti.
Logically speaking, their talents and their rate of progression should be vastly superior to those of the past.
Why does it seem like they have regressed now?
He rubbed his jaw, his mind spinning through various theories of bloodline degradation and karmic shifts.
It seems they have gotten unlucky, and have produced trashy... descendants.
Unlucky?
Suddenly, his eyes widened slightly as a thought occurred to him—a possibility that the "Heavenly Dao" he so despised was deliberately suppressing the growth of their clan.
No, he already ca to the conclusion before that the Heavenly Dao doesn’t have an unlimited Luck to give to its chosen, so during the first few years, the chosen was basically taking the luck of people around them, causing those people to suffer misfortune.
If the Heavenly Dao doesn’t have much luck to give, then why is it still creating boatloads of Chosens? Where is it getting all its luck to create them?
There is only one possibility; it’s taking the luck from others.
And the Shen Clan, having been around since the ancient tis, have accumulated insane amounts of luck.
But, how does the Heavenly Dao take their luck?
It couldn’t possibly be taking it directly, after all, if it can do that, then it would’ve done so already and drained their clan of its luck.
The reason why he believes it couldn’t do that is because he was still born. And he also possessed quite a high amount of luck.
For now, he can only think of one possible way, and that is, to turn those people who possessed certain amount of luck away from the Shen Clan.
In other words, the Heavenly Dao will create various circumstances to make the Shen Clan into a "villain", causing the people with luck to beco enemies with them, and taking their opportunities.
Or perhaps he was just overthinking it and the luck of the clan was simply being concentrated into a single point: himself.
Just then, a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed against the heavy mahogany door.
Xueli imdiately stopped her massage and stood up. She smoothed her robes, her expression returning to its usual mask of cold efficiency, and opened the door.
Standing in the hallway were Shangguan Mu’er and Ling Luochen.
In the past few days, Haoran had formally introduced the two won to Xueli.
Surprisingly, they had hit it off almost imdiately. Sharing similar backgrounds—all three being geniuses from desolate, backwater locations who were "plucked" from obscurity by Haoran—they had ford a silent bond of shared destiny and mutual respect.
The two newcors nodded to Xueli before turning their expectant gazes toward Haoran.
"Young Master, the Madam has sent us to retrieve you," Ling Luochen said, her voice clear and resonant. "The honor guards are already lining the main thoroughfare."
Shangguan Mu’er added a curt nod, her silver eyes shimring. "The tournant is about to begin. The crowds in the Divine Arena are reaching a fever pitch."
Haoran nodded and stood up, his regal robes shifting with his movent as he walked toward the door, and soon, the four of them were walking side by side through the sprawling, vaulted hallways of the palace.
The sound of their footsteps was the only thing that filled the corridor.
"So? How is the format of the tournant?" Haoran asked as they rounded a corner decorated with ancient tapestries of the clan’s wars.
"Madam Feng Yuyan originally decreed that the rest of the Crowns would fight amongst each other in a series of elimination rounds," Ling Luochen explained. "The winner—the strongest of the ten—would then be granted the singular honor of challenging you for the seat of the First Crown."
Haoran stopped walking and shook his head, a look of profound annoyance on his face. "Luochen, go back. Find my Aunt Yuyan and tell her that I find such a format to be extrely inefficient. It’s a waste of ti and effort. Let’s just change the tournant rules right now: have all ten of them challenge at once."
Ling Luochen paused, her eyes widening in montary shock.
Fighting ten of the clan’s top geniuses simultaneously was a feat that she didn’t even dare imagine.
But seeing the absolute, unshakeable confidence in Haoran’s eyes, she rely bowed. "I understand, Young Master. I will inform them imdiately."
With a shimr of her movent technique, she disappeared down the hall to deliver the ssage to the high throne.
As she vanished, Haoran turned his gaze toward Shangguan Mu’er. "And you, Mu’er? How are you adjusting to the density of the air in this world? It’s a long way from the Saint Burial Realm."
Shangguan Mu’er nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.
"Quite well, Young Master. My cultivation is stabilizing at a rate I never thought possible. Although..." she hesitated, looking toward the western horizon, "it seems like there is sothing calling . A faint, primal resonance coming from sowhere very far away."
Haoran’s lips curled into a predatory grin. "It’s gotta be it. The ’Gula’ lineage—the descendants of the Demon King whose bloodline you inherited. They are sensing a new ’King’ ascending."
Shangguan Mu’er paused for a heartbeat, her breath hitching. "Is that so? So there are others like in this world?"
"Yes. Although they can’t be compared to the Shen Clan in terms of sheer influence, they are still a formidable, ancient force in the outer territories," Haoran said before he stopped and turned fully toward her, his golden eyes piercing. "Mu’er, don’t you want to... take over them? Instead of being a wanderer, why not beco the Empress of your own race?"
Shangguan Mu’er froze, her heart hamring against her ribs as the idea of such power, such a destination, caused her eyes to brighten with a fierce, ambitious light for a brief, flickering mont.
*
*
*
anwhile, in the Great Throne Room of the Chu Xueyu, the atmosphere was... less than imperial.
Ling Luochen knelt on the jade floor, having just delivered Haoran’s ssage and she kept her head low, trying her best to ignore the sight before her.
On the massive obsidian throne sat Chu Xueyu. However, she was currently being bracketed by her two older sisters.
Feng Yuyan and Leng Shuang were sitting on the wide armrests of the throne, leaning in and playfully pinching and rubbing the cheeks of the "Ruthless Empress" as if she were a recalcitrant toddler.
Chu Xueyu looked absolutely stone-faced, her eyes cold enough to freeze the sun, but she didn’t move.
According to her sisters, this "cheek-rubbing" session was her official punishnt for throwing them into a mountain range during their last discussion.
The Empress who slaughtered billions and caused mass extinction was currently being treated like a true little sister.
If the ghosts of those she slaughtered saw this, they would’ve laughed at her until their soul dissipates and Chu Xueyu die of embarrassnt.
"Ten on one, huh?" Leng Shuang muttered, her fingers finally releasing Xueyu’s left cheek as she processed the news.
"That actually sounds like fun! It would be much more cinematic!" Feng Yuyan exclaid, her eyes sparkling with chaotic delight. "It would display Haoran’s absolute dominance even more effectively than a series of boring duels!"
Chu Xueyu gave a slow, dignified nod, finally managing to gently push her sisters’ hands away as her voice regained its cold, commanding edge. "My son has grown arrogant over the years. But he has the strength to back it up."
Feng Yuyan looked at Ling Luochen. "Alright. Return to my nephew and tell him that we agree to change the plan. We will let him dominate the ten self-proclaid ’most talented’ geniuses of this generation in a single strike. Let the world see what a true Shen looks like."
"Yes, Madam!" Ling Luochen bowed deeply and retreated, her heart racing at the thought of the slaughter that was about to occur in the Divine Arena.
Feng Yuyan hopped off the armrest, summoning a communication scroll.
"This is going to be the best show the Shen Clan has seen in a thousand years! I need to make sure the betting pools are properly adjusted!"
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