If you could sit atop it, you were a King of Heaven's Chosen. If not, then sit below and look up in awe.
This was the cruel, ironclad rule brought by strength—undeniably direct and brutal.
Of course, even if you could sit on the throne, it only proved that you possessed the strength and qualifications to be a King among Heaven's Chosen. But that didn't mean you could keep your seat forever. The number of thrones was limited, while the number of top-tier prodigies among all the races of the myriad heavens far exceeded the seats available—possibly many times over.
Clearly, Lu Beiyue did not have the strength to match the seat of a king.
He was forcibly ejected from the throne and rolled all the way down the mountainside. Whatever momentum or edge he had before was completely shattered during the tumble. He had lost face—utterly and completely.
"Calling him disheveled is an understatement."
"Damn it. Truly damn it. This time I, Lu Beiyue, have made a name for myself—by embarrassing myself across the entire Eternal Continent. Damn that Stone Emperor! He's clearly no good and still had to wait up there to humiliate me."
Lu Beiyue's face turned ashen.
He had assumed that taking a seat would be easy since no resistance had met him on the way up. He let down his guard. Never did he imagine that the real test would come from the throne itself. Caught off guard, he ended up humiliating himself in front of everyone. If he had been prepared, even if he couldn't withstand it in the end, he wouldn't have been thrown off so miserably.
Now, he no longer had the face to try again. He simply found a seat halfway up the mountain, sat down, shut his eyes, and said not another word. Only the silver moon behind him continued to flicker, revealing that his heart was anything but calm.
"A throne forged from Stone of Heaven and Earth… even someone like Lu Beiyue was thrown off. That scene—it was like a silver ball rolling down a hill."
"If even Lu Beiyue couldn't endure it, the throne must contain terrifying power from the heavens and earth. Only true kings among Heaven's Chosen can sit without suffering backlash."
"I wonder how many will be able to sit on the thrones… to earn the title of King of Heaven's Chosen."
This scene was witnessed by countless cultivators. Through mysterious spatial platforms scattered across the battlefield, every action on Lingshan (Spirit Mountain) was visible in fine detail—down to the blood at the corner of Lu Beiyue's mouth.
"Tsk, you werewolves really are just a bunch of brainless brutes. Did you think that seat was for muscle-bound mutts with no brains? How shameful."
Just then, a mocking voice echoed from the void outside Lingshan.
With it came a dark cloud, surging from the horizon. As it approached, people realized it wasn't a cloud at all—but a swarm of vampiric bats, countless in number. Their glowing red eyes made one's skin crawl.
"A bunch of foul bats that can't stand the sun? You dare mock me?"
Lu Beiyue scowled upon hearing the voice. When he looked over, his expression darkened further. He responded with an angry roar.
"So what if I mock you? You're just a stinking mutt. You've humiliated your entire werewolf clan. If I were you, I'd have smashed my head on a rock by now. You've got skin thicker than a city wall."
The bats quickly gathered and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a figure clad in a black robe, holding a blood-red scepter. He was handsome, with a touch of pallor, but radiated an aristocratic air.
It was Dracula.
"You're courting death, Dracula!"
Lu Beiyue's silver eyes flashed with killing intent.
"You want death? I'll grant it. Kill!"
Without hesitation, Lu Beiyue stepped into the air. With every step, ripples surged in space, revealing the strength underfoot.
With a flash of light, his hands transformed into wolf claws—each tipped with razor-sharp talons as long as short blades, gleaming silver and looking capable of tearing flesh and shattering bone with ease. His claws curved like crescent moon blades.
With a swing of his arm—
A claw strike dozens of meters long tore through the air, aimed straight at Dracula.
Anyone hit would be shredded instantly.
"Brute."
Dracula didn't flinch. Standing calmly in midair, he swung his blood-red scepter forward.
A blood-colored claw instantly condensed, sharp and crystalline, exuding a chilling aura.
The two claw strikes collided midair.
Silver light and blood light exploded outward, sending shockwaves rippling in every direction.
Both claws vanished in the clash.
"Dracula… the vampire. Could it be him?"
Yi Tianxing stood on his war chariot, eyes locked on the battle unfolding in the sky. A thought flashed through his mind.
Dracula—a name well-known in ancient legends.
Before becoming a vampire, he was a human noble from the West, born into high status and possessing formidable strength. But he was also vicious and violent, ruling his land with cruelty. He earned the nickname "The Impaler" due to his grotesque punishments: impaling prisoners on long stakes through the body, from bottom to top, and letting them die in agony.
Eventually, he became a vampire, and not just any vampire—but a noble among vampires.
A creature of the night, with near-immortal longevity, refined demeanor, and a haunting charm—his smiling lips always stained with blood. Women found him irresistible. He was known as the pinnacle of vampire kind.
Now he stood here, in broad daylight.
"A powerful being... and one who has reached the Life Diagram Realm," Yi Tianxing said slowly.
Beside him, Yao Yue looked solemn.
In the sky, Lu Beiyue and Dracula were locked in brutal combat. Behind Lu Beiyue, a silver moon had formed; behind Dracula, a blood moon rose in answer.
Silver and blood clashed repeatedly in devastating collisions.
Werewolves and vampires—ancient enemies, born to hate one another. Now face-to-face, the battle was inevitable. The scene was shocking to all who watched.
And yet, no one stepped in to stop it. In fact, many looked on with relish.
Suddenly—
From the sky, ten thousand rays of light erupted without warning. This light radiated the Dao of Light: majestic, righteous, vast, and immeasurable. A divine aura spread across the battlefield.
In its presence, all dark and evil forces began to retreat and dissolve, like snow under the summer sun—cleansed and purified.
Even the sun itself seemed to pale in comparison.
From the center of the brilliance emerged a figure.
He wore white divine robes, held a white scripture book, and had flowing golden hair. Holy radiance enveloped his entire body, giving him the appearance of a living god. Heavenly hymns echoed around him, as if countless beings were praying in his name, offering their hopes and pleas.
This man was like a god-king walking out of the light.
The vast brilliance rolled forth, spreading in all directions. In its presence, the silver moon and blood moon hanging in the void began to fade and darken—suppressed by the overwhelming light.
"Damn it, this holy light…!"
"Who is that?!"
Dracula and Lu Beiyue growled in unison, both sensing an ominous force. Their moons, formed from their Life Diagrams, trembled under the crushing radiance.
They tried to infuse more power into their moons, making them shine brighter to resist.
But to no avail.
The momentary brilliance of their moons was extinguished by the divine light. Both coughed up blood, their mouths and noses bleeding as the silver and blood moons collapsed and retreated into their bodies.
This holy power carried an innate restraint against them.
The golden divine light paved a radiant road through the air. The figure walked step by step toward the peak of Lingshan.
"From the Race of Light, the Son of Light has come to attend the banquet."
The figure spoke calmly.