Great Xuan Calendar, Year Ninety-Five.

  The Human Emperor ascended on a dragon and passed away.

  The entire capital quaked. The world felt it in their hearts; thick sorrow surged.

  Golden light spilled across the sky. A golden dragon coiled and roared. Thunderous rumbles echoed like the emperor’s murmurs in life.

  The divine dynasty mourned as one.

  The news spread like wildfire—one to ten, ten to a hundred.

  From Northern Commandery to Southern, Eastern, Western, and even the far west.

  The day the Human Emperor passed, the world trembled.

  On the long snow-covered streets, people poured from their homes, walking the icy stone roads.

  A hollow grief gripped every heart. Everyone saw the faint golden dragon lingering above the capital.

  The man who had forged their peaceful golden age was gone.

  Someone began to weep. The sound was contagious. In moments, the streets filled with sobbing that rang through the capital.

  The people walked toward the palace.

  They grieved. They came to send off their emperor.

  Within the palace, aged Confucian officials felt their hearts shudder and sighed.

  Many who had served Dantai Xuan from the beginning were overwhelmed with emotion.

  From prefect of Northern Commandery, to King of Northern Xuan, to Human Emperor—he had never had an easy path.

  A mortal body in an age of rising cultivation, yet he carved out a divine dynasty and suppressed countless cultivators.

  Many trembling officials knelt in the snow and kowtowed toward the inner palace.

  This kowtow was to send the Human Emperor on his final journey.

  …

  Southern Commandery, Tang Estate, a quiet courtyard.

  Snow drifted gently.

  Tang Xiansheng sat in a rocking chair that creaked softly, crushing the falling flakes.

  He lifted his hand; snowflakes landed on his palm, bringing a slight chill.

  “Farewell, Human Emperor.”

  He murmured.

  At the gate, Tang Yimo strode in. His aura was now terrifyingly powerful, shattering the falling snow without effort.

  “The Human Emperor has passed.”

  Tang Yimo’s feelings toward Dantai Xuan were complex.

  “I saw it coming. It was only a matter of time… yet when the day truly arrived, my heart is not as calm as I imagined.”

  Tang Xiansheng said.

  “A great tribulation is coming. If Great Xuan survives it, the divine dynasty may truly endure forever.”

  “If it does not… it will shatter like the Great Zhou before it.”

  Tang Yimo’s eyes narrowed sharply.

  “Let’s go. We must head to the capital. This dynasty carries my blood and sweat too—it will not fall so easily.”

  Tang Xiansheng rose slowly from the chair.

  “Need my help?”

  Tang Yimo supported him. Over the years, the grudge in his heart had faded.

  Tang Xiansheng patted Tang Yimo’s hand with an aged smile.

  “No need. A small matter.”

  “Focus on your cultivation—that is what matters most.”

  He hunched over, hands behind his back, and walked step by step into the snow until he vanished.

  …

  Western Liang, the raging East Flow River.

  Overlord stood with arms crossed, axe and shield on his back, hovering above the water. The river itself seemed suppressed by his presence.

  Snowflakes shredded apart in his aura.

  On the bank stood Luo Mingsang, still graceful with time.

  She too walked the path of cultivation. Though her talent was ordinary, with Overlord’s guidance she had reached Nascent Soul and gained long life.

  Golden dragon roars faintly echoed in the clouds.

  Overlord exhaled slowly.

  The man who once contested the world with him had reached the end of his lifespan.

  Luo Mingsang’s expression was also complicated.

  The Human Emperor who had risen from that era of heroes could not withstand time’s blade.

  “Ruled the world for a century, turned the heavens with a flip of his hand… Dantai Xuan lived brilliantly.”

  Overlord said.

  Indeed—compared to the monotony of cultivation, Dantai Xuan’s life had been spectacular.

  Yet Dantai Xuan had no regrets, and neither did Overlord.

  If Xiang Shaoyun had to rule for a hundred years, he could not have faced death as calmly as Dantai Xuan, without chasing immortality.

  Actually, Dantai Xuan could have sought immortality. As Human Emperor, commanding countless cultivators and the greatest power beneath White Jade Capital—why couldn’t he?

  He simply chose not to.

  Overlord exhaled.

  His breath parted the river like a cannon blast.

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  He gazed toward the eastern sea, eyes flickering.

  “It is time to focus.”

  Then he looked beyond the heavens, battle intent and passion surging.

  His blood boiled, making the entire East Flow River tremble.

  He too should live a little more brilliantly!

  That Heavenly Grand Tournament Qi Liujia spoke of…

  Come!

  Overlord clenched his fist. Storms swirled around him.

  …

  Within the ancient tomb.

  Jiang Li, seated in meditation, opened his eyes with boundless complexity.

  “Your Majesty…”

  He saw again Dantai Xuan laughing heartily, clapping his shoulder, calling him “Brother Jiang.”

  Everything felt like another lifetime.

  He remained unchanged, while the Human Emperor had become history.

  Jiang Li closed his eyes once more. Silence returned to the tomb.

  He was waiting—for the day he fulfilled his promise to Dantai Xuan.

  …

  The Human Emperor’s death shook the Five Phoenixes deeply.

  The cultivation world learned of it and ripples spread through the calm.

  Martial Emperor City, Qiannu Palace, Absolute Blade Gate, Heavenly Void Palace—all sent experts to the capital for the funeral.

  Mo Ju presided over the rites.

  Commoners from every corner of the divine dynasty flooded the capital, wailing as they lined the streets to send off their emperor.

  The entire court mourned.

  Snow fell heavily.

  The coffin was interred.

  The newly appointed Crown Prince, the fifth imperial son, stood in awe, feeling the overwhelming legacy of his father. Fear and reverence mingled in his heart.

  Countless attended the funeral—officials from every region, cultivators of every faction—standing in silent rows.

  Mo Beike’s heavy eye bags trembled as he stood with Tang Xiansheng on a hillside, gazing at the imperial mausoleum and sighing deeply.

  On that day, great cultivators crossed the sky to pay respects.

  Some even glimpsed a supreme Demon King shrouded in black robes bow slightly toward the funeral.

  To Mo Beike and Tang Xiansheng’s surprise, the cult and the remnants of the Madden Kingdom made no move during the funeral.

  But thinking it over, they understood.

  Even Liu Yuanhao must be sighing at this moment.

  To him, Dantai Xuan had been a worthy and fearsome opponent.

  The day the funeral ended,

  Tianji Pavilion broadcast the emperor’s final decree to the world.

  The realm shook.

  White Tianji doves flew across the heavens, wings scattering feathers.

  On profound yellow paper, words written in blood flowed.

  Atop Tianji Peak, an elder coughed blood as he wrote with fervent strokes.

  “The Human Emperor scatters his hundred zhang of dragon qi, concerned for the peace of the realm. Imperial dragon qi is taken from the people and now returned to them. Half is severed to protect the common folk—may the nation be prosperous and the people live in peace. The other half transforms into karmic flame to guard all officials and solidify the divine dynasty. Should any cultivator harm an official, dragon qi shall become karmic fire, burn their spirit, strip their cultivation, and reduce them to death and oblivion.”

  “Farewell, Human Emperor.”

  The decree spread.

  The world was stunned!

  Confucian scholars paled, beating their chests and weeping. No wonder the emperor could have lived decades longer—yet he severed all dragon qi to protect the realm and the dynasty.

  When commoners heard, they were dumbfounded.

  As the news spread, faint golden dragon qi seemed to coil across the heavens above the Five Phoenixes.

  The gravely ill recovered.

  The frail felt warmth course through their bodies and grew strong.

  The people were awestruck, then overcome with gratitude.

  Most moving of all—half the dragon qi now protected officials.

  With the new laws, no official could exceed Body Tempering realm—they were essentially mortal.

  Even those who cultivated righteous haoran qi were fragile before true cultivators.

  Now, with dragon qi’s protection, officials stood taller. They could serve the people without fear, strengthening the dynasty’s foundation.

  And this rule had been acknowledged by the Lord of White Jade Capital himself.

  No cultivator dared test it.

  Many felt dazed. This decree seemed to completely separate the mortal and cultivation worlds of Great Xuan.

  For ordinary people unable to cultivate, it was a blessing.

  At the very least, it shielded common life from many dangers brought by cultivators.

  …

  Origin Lake, Lake Heart Island.

  Dantai Xuan drifted down onto the island.

  Birdsong and fragrant flowers—truly an immortal realm.

  His heart, surprisingly, grew peaceful.

  He was dead, yet with Lu Ping’an’s power, appearing here was no trouble. Even resurrection would be easy.

  Lu Fan sat in white robes, still youthful, long black hair loose, exuding leisurely freedom.

  Glug glug…

  Warm wine bubbled in the pot.

  Lu Fan waved him over.

  Dantai Xuan appeared atop White Jade Capital’s pavilion.

  Clouds churned. The lake of origin qi rippled endlessly.

  Dantai Xuan marveled.

  So the Young Master truly had moved the island onto a giant whale and sailed into the Vast Sea.

  Nearly a century had passed, yet Young Master Lu looked exactly as he had the day Dantai Xuan first visited North Luo City.

  “Human Emperor, sit.”

  Lu Fan smiled warmly.

  Dantai Xuan laughed heartily, setting aside all worries, and sat across from him.

  Lu Fan set out the spiritual pressure chessboard and played a game with him.

  Dantai Xuan’s chess was truly abysmal. After a few moves, he was stumped.

  “Young Master Lu’s skill is superb. This emperor yields.”

  Dantai Xuan laughed, cupping his hands.

  “No matter.”

  Lu Fan waved it off.

  With a thought, bronze cups filled with warm wine floated before them.

  He sipped lightly.

  “A century flies by—for cultivators, merely one seclusion, the snap of a finger…”

  “How do you feel about your life, Human Emperor?”

  Lu Fan asked with a smile.

  “Passable. Decent enough.”

  Dantai Xuan drank. Young Master Lu’s wine was rare and excellent.

  “You still had thirty or forty years left. Why scatter all your dragon qi?”

  Lu Fan asked.

  Dantai Xuan paused, then laughed.

  “Instead of letting it slowly fade, better to do something for the people. Dragon qi came from them—returning it is only right.”

  Lu Fan nodded slightly.

  Then he asked,

  “This Young Master has always wondered…”

  “With your authority as Human Emperor, why in your later years did you never sail out to seek me for immortality? You knew—if I granted it, you would live forever.”

  Dantai Xuan’s cheek twitched.

  Immortality… that counted as immortal fate, right?

  He could have it too?

  But he only thought this—he did not say it.

  Outwardly, he laughed freely.

  “Immortality? Birth, age, illness, death—the way of man. This emperor could have cultivated, but preferred to live a mortal life. Only by tasting joy, anger, sorrow, and death can one truly understand the people’s suffering.”

  Lu Fan chuckled, seeing straight through him.

  He said no more and let Dantai Xuan wander the island freely.

  Dantai Xuan was happy to relax. As emperor he had worked late into every night handling memorials. Now he could rest.

  Lu Fan sent him away from the pavilion.

  Dantai Xuan strolled the island.

  He saw the Dao Stele—any cultivator would feel their soul tremble before it.

  Dantai Xuan felt nothing. He glanced, then walked on.

  He reached the alchemy room.

  There was Ni Yu, still childlike.

  Nine black pots orbited her. Her baby-fat cheeks jiggled with utmost seriousness.

  She struck again and again with heavenly mysterious fire.

  The pots glowed red-hot.

  Powerful spiritual waves and Dao Intent surged. Pill fragrance wafted.

  Dantai Xuan watched with great interest.

  Then—BOOM BOOM BOOM!

  Explosions rocked the alchemy room nearly to rubble.

  From the wreckage came Ni Yu’s frantic shriek.

  Dantai Xuan jumped and fled.

  “This emperor is already dead! You can’t blame your exploded pots on my immortal-fate insulation!”

  He wandered the island for days.

  Under the Sky-Reaching Chrysanthemums, among the peach blossoms, grinning foolishly.

  Through the purple bamboo forest, he sat before the Master’s tomb, reminiscing and chattering for hours.

  Though they had once stood on opposite sides, Dantai Xuan deeply respected the Master. The righteous haoran qi he created had stabilized the dynasty’s bureaucracy.

  Finally,

  Days later,

  Dantai Xuan returned to Lu Fan.

  “Human Emperor, you are now a soul. Besides dissipating into heaven and earth, you have three choices…”

  Lu Fan leaned back in the Thousand-Bladed Chair, fingers tapping the armrest.

  He had found it hard to decide Dantai Xuan’s fate.

  So he would let the man choose.

  “Oh?”

  Dantai Xuan grew interested—three choices!

  “In honor of your achievements as Human Emperor…”

  Lu Fan said.

  “First: I can forge you a new flesh body and let you live again.”

  Dantai Xuan frowned, thought long, then sighed and shook his head.

  “Dead is dead. Why live again? Fight my own sons for the throne again? Pointless.”

  “Young Master Lu, what is the second choice?”

  Lu Fan raised a brow.

  “Second: I can let you reincarnate with all memories intact. You may walk the true path of cultivation…”

  That tempted Dantai Xuan greatly.

  His heart stirred.

  Yet after a long while, he still wanted to hear the third.

  “Young Master Lu, and the third?”

  Dantai Xuan asked solemnly.

  Lu Fan’s tapping fingers stilled.

  He looked at Dantai Xuan and exhaled softly.

  “You have lived a mortal life and stood against cultivators. What did you feel?”

  Dantai Xuan was taken aback.

  After a moment, he answered,

  “Mortals… are far too fragile compared to cultivators.”

  Indeed—mortal lives were as frail as ants, easily crushed.

  “Do you remember the Nine Hells Secret Realm?”

  Lu Fan asked.

  “The Nine Prisons hold nine ghost cities. The souls of the dead drift there… a chaotic netherworld where souls cannot transcend.”

  “You always complained about never receiving great immortal fate.”

  Lu Fan smiled faintly.

  “The third choice is the greatest immortal fate of all…”

  “Enter the Nine Prisons. Judge good and evil. Establish reincarnation. Bring order to the netherworld.”

  “If you govern it well…”

  Lu Fan tapped the armrest, eyes gleaming.

  Then his voice grew ethereal:

  “Born as the Human Emperor of the divine dynasty, die as the Nether Emperor of the Nine Hells.”