That blueprint, in fact, had been obtained back when Xuanhuang City had just been established as a mere village. It came from a cannibal tribe. From the first glance, it was clear that this was no ordinary item—it was a treasure blueprint nurtured by heaven and earth.
It wasn't a plan for an ordinary building. The drawings featured countless unique components.
And these weren't just random parts. They were the components of a powerful war machine—a warship.
The true name of the blueprint was the Seven-Colored Warship Blueprint, also known as the Seven-Colored Ark. It was incredibly mysterious, and if constructed, it would undoubtedly rank among the greatest warships in the world.
From the very beginning, it was obvious that this blueprint was of extreme importance. If it were leaked, it could cause catastrophic consequences. At the time, there was no way to build it—and even now, Yi Tianxing didn't believe the Great Yi Dynasty had the means to construct it.
The Seven-Colored Warships weren't a single ship, but rather eight.
Yes, eight types of warships.
The Seven-Colored Warships included seven distinct ships, each defined by a unique color and corresponding ability. But the most supreme among them was the fusion of all seven: the legendary Rainbow Celestial Ark (彩虹天舟)!!
These were not vessels meant solely for water. Regardless of their color, once crafted, each ship could not only navigate through water but also fly freely through the skies. Whether airborne or at sea, they moved unimpeded with ease.
It was because of their overwhelming power that Yi Tianxing had always kept the blueprint hidden deep within the treasure vault, never bringing it out. Even now, if he had a better alternative, he wouldn't have revealed it. And even if he did, he didn't expect that Master Lu and Gongshu Lin could actually create it.
The reason? The materials required weren't ordinary—they were celestial cloud essences—colorful clouds formed with spiritual consciousness. These had to be gathered from the sky, from the intangible transformed into the tangible. No easy feat.
Only spiritually sentient clouds, also known as Essence of Colorful Clouds, could serve as the core material. These clouds were exceedingly rare and often taken the moment they were found, refined into auspicious clouds (祥云) capable of flight and magical transportation—like the mythical Somersault Cloud (筋斗云) of Sun Wukong.
Though Yi Tianxing possessed a treasure called the Cloud Weaver (织云机)—a device capable of weaving clouds—it wasn't made to harvest spiritual cloud essences. Without those, crafting the Seven-Colored Warships was a pipe dream. Hence, the blueprint had been kept at the bottom of his trove—never used, until now.
With a flicker of light, a blueprint appeared in Yi Tianxing's hand. It wasn't the full schematic, only the design for one of the colored warships.
Handing it to Master Lu, both he and Gongshu Lin eagerly examined it.
As they studied it, both their faces lit up with excitement and astonishment. Murmurs filled the air.
"The materials... they actually require Essence of Clouds? That's far too rare. How can we find and refine that?"
"So many intricate components... Amazing! So that's what this does!"
"This one's the Azure Warship—meant for water traversal. Its speed underwater is incredible, and it can cloak itself or lie dormant beneath the surface. The main weapon is the Poseidon Trident. In the ocean, it's like a sovereign—unstoppable and supreme!"
Yet, even in their excitement, reality set in.
"It's impossible. Without Essence of Colorful Clouds, we can't bring out the ship's true power. Substitutes won't do—it'll only have 1%, maybe 0.1% of its intended strength. Not worth building at all."
"The runic formations are exclusive to the Seven-Colored Warships—they won't fuse with other materials. No substitutions possible."
With that, Master Lu handed the blueprint back to Yi Tianxing.
"Without the right materials, we can't proceed. It's better not to build it than to craft a failure."
Gongshu Lin nodded in agreement.
"Even with my skills, I can't build this—not now. This isn't an ordinary ship."
Yi Tianxing frowned, considering the loss.
Then, a hesitant voice spoke up.
"Your Majesty… I might have something."
It was General Zhang Shun.
"Speak freely, General."
"This subordinate also possesses a warship blueprint. I just wasn't sure if we had the craftsmen to construct it."
Yi Tianxing raised a brow in surprise.
"Let me see."
Zhang Shun produced a blueprint. Immediately, it was evident that this too was a rare treasure. Though not as overwhelming as the Seven-Colored design, it was still a Runic Warship, powerful in water combat.
Its name was the Giant Whale Warship (巨鲸战船).
Its design resembled an enormous whale and exuded immense power. It could navigate both above and beneath water, boasting several arcane abilities thanks to embedded runic patterns.
Unlike the Seven-Colored Warship, the Giant Whale Warship required far more accessible materials and simpler construction. The main requirement was strong bone material—most importantly, a powerful Dragon Bone (龙骨). The stronger the dragon bone, the greater the ship's power.
"This can be done," Master Lu confirmed after studying the blueprint. "It's feasible. Great Yi has the means. We only need a fair amount of resources."
"Very well. Begin building the Giant Whale Warship. The other designs can wait. Zhang Shun, for your contribution, you'll be rewarded with merit points."
Yi Tianxing nodded.
Since the Seven-Colored Warship couldn't be built, they would settle for the next best thing.
Of course, warships couldn't be forged in a day. Training and naval deployment would have to wait.
With that matter settled, the group didn't linger in the barracks. The intense killing aura there made it uncomfortable for non-military cultivators—stifling and oppressive.
They returned to the Imperial Palace, entering the Hall of Heavenly Judgment.
No sooner had they returned than a cloaked figure entered—a man who hadn't even shown up to the grand assembly earlier.
It was Jiang Ni, clad in black robes.
He swept his gaze across the hall before bowing.
"Minister Jiang Ni greets Your Majesty."
"No need for formalities," Yi Tianxing replied.
"I missed the assembly because something major was detected by the Astrological Bureau (钦天监). We've been calculating it all this time. I've only just received the results and came here immediately."
Though his face was hidden, his voice conveyed the gravity of the matter. Clearly, it was something extraordinary—possibly dire.
Yi Tianxing's expression grew serious.
"Everyone, this audience ends here. Jia Yucun, make arrangements for the guests' accommodations. You may all withdraw."
He had already guessed that Jiang Ni's message wasn't something to be shared publicly.
"Understood."
Everyone else took the hint and left silently. No one there was foolish; they could read the tension in the air.
Within moments, only Yi Tianxing and Jiang Ni remained in the hall.
The lively room now felt deathly quiet.
"Minister Jiang, you may speak. What did the Astrological Bureau discover?"
Yi Tianxing drew in a breath and asked.
"When the Gate of Gods and Demons opened again, and Your Majesty returned with the army, a star—Yinghuo (荧惑)—fell from the heavens."
"Yinghuo... the star of calamity. Yinghuo guards the heart—a dire omen."
Yi Tianxing frowned.
He knew that omen well. Yinghuo always signaled disaster—dynastic upheaval, the fall of emperors, cataclysms of unimaginable scale.
This was no superstition. In an era of cultivation, nothing was beyond the realm of possibility.
"Indeed. Yinghuo guarding the heart is the omen."
Jiang Ni's voice was low and solemn.
"From our readings, I can only confirm this: not only are we entering an era of chaos—but natural disasters are coming."