Great Wei Imperial Capital
The once glorious capital stood desolate and crumbling under a heavy, oppressive sky that seemed to weigh upon the very rooftops. Those who dared to pass by the resplendent palace walls did so with quick, nervous steps, their faces etched with deep tension and a visible fear that they couldn't hide. What had once been the sacred, unassailable symbol of imperial authority had become an object of pure dread, a place from which the common people averted their eyes as if to look too long would invite disaster.
Deep within the cavernous imperial complex, in the Hall of Yangxin, the Emperor of Great Wei sat upon his massive dragon throne. His breathing was slow and unnaturally steady; each inhale and exhale was measured with a rhythmic, mechanical precision. Before him, a young boy, no more than a teenager, knelt in a terrifying silence. Then, a horrifying transformation began. The boy withered at a terrifying speed before his eyes. His smooth skin wrinkled and pulled tight over his emerging bones, turning into a dull, grey parchment.
In the span of a few heartbeats, the youth lived out the entirety of a human life; his body rapidly dehydrated and shrank until nothing remained but a shriveled, skeletal husk clothed in loose skin that hung like wet rags. As the last of the boy's life force drained away into the air, the Emperor's own aura swelled, growing noticeably stronger and more vibrant in the dim light.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on reaching the late stage of Body Refining," a sultry voice purred from the deep shadows of the hall. A figure emerged, her steps lazy and seductive as she moved across the stone. As she passed the dried corpse, she casually kicked it aside without even sparing it a glance. It skittered across the polished floor with the sound of dry sticks, coming to rest against a cold, marble pillar.
"Progress is still too slow," the Emperor said. His voice was a low rumble of deep dissatisfaction that echoed in the vast, empty hall.
"There's no helping it," the woman replied lightly, moving to his side and tracing a slow finger along his arm. "Your Majesty is… too old. If not for that, we wouldn't need to resort to such heaven-defying methods to sustain you." She let out a soft, mocking sigh. "It's just a pity that of all your many descendants, only a dozen or so now remain."
"It matters not," the Emperor said, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Now that I have stepped onto the path of cultivation, my body is brimming with vitality once more. Thanks to the… generous gift from the Fu King, more than a hundred of my concubines are already with child. Materials will never be lacking again." He spoke of his own future children as if they were mere reagents for a concoction.
"Then I must congratulate Your Majesty. Soon, we shall share in eternal life together." The woman smiled wickedly, her eyes gleaming. Her expression then shifted, becoming more pointed and serious. "By the way, it seems the Empress has been making some moves lately. The family backing her—"
"A short-sighted woman," the Emperor snorted, cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hand. "A barren woman is useless to me. Send the Demon Slaying Divisions. Exterminate them all. Throw their corpses into the Bone Melting Pool to become the foundation of my everlasting empire." His orders were given with chilling finality.
"As you command," the woman replied smoothly, as if they were discussing the weather or a minor trade dispute. "Also, about that Zhao Yiping… our reports last year indicated he was at death's door. How is it that he returned, brimming with vitality and even stronger than before?"
"I have already dispatched a team from the Demon Execution Division to investigate. They believe he likely consumed some kind of potent elixir," the Emperor said indifferently, his attention already wandering back to his own strength.
"An alchemist?" The woman's playful demeanor vanished in an instant. Her expression immediately grew solemn and intent.
"Hm?" the Emperor grunted, curious at her sudden shift in tone.
"Even in ancient times, alchemists were exceedingly rare," she explained. Her voice was low and serious. "A single pill they refine can shatter cultivation barriers that would otherwise take a lifetime to overcome. Countless powerhouses willingly lower themselves to befriend a skilled alchemist. Their connections can be terrifying beyond measure; it's a web of favors and debts that spans generations."
"I see. This one likely resides in the Southern Frontier."
"Judging by the effects, they're likely a Tier Two Alchemist. Only pills of that level could save someone as poisoned and broken as Sect Master Zhao." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that tickled his ear. "Moreover, a Tier Two Alchemist could refine something even more precious for you, Your Majesty."
"Oh? What is it?"
"The Qi Inducing Pill," the woman said. Her tone was heavy with meaning. "Consuming one could help you break through directly into the Qi Refining Stage. It would solidify your foundation and unlock true spiritual power."
At her words, even the Emperor's stoic facade cracked. His face twitched, and his breathing grew subtly rushed. The promise of such a breakthrough was a lure he couldn't ignore.
"I see. I—" he began, but his words were cut short.
He abruptly stiffened. His head snapped up as if he heard a distant chime. A strange tremor, subtle but undeniably powerful, rippled through the air of the chamber. The woman beside him froze as well; her pupils contracted sharply as she sensed the same phenomenon. The very energy in the room felt different, charged with a new potential.
"This fluctuation…" she gasped. Her composure was utterly shattered. "Could it be the birth of a Heaven and Earth Treasure?"
"Heaven and Earth Treasure?" the Emperor demanded, his voice sharp and demanding.
"Extremely rare artifacts, born from nature's purest energies, coalesced over centuries," the woman explained quickly, her mind racing through the possibilities. "Ordinarily, I would personally lead the expedition to seize it. However, because I infused part of my spiritual core into Your Majesty's body to stabilize your condition, I can't stray too far from you. And you, too, can't leave the capital easily in your current state." The frustration was evident in her voice.
She paused for only a second, her expression hardening with resolve. "In that case, we will need to make a sacrifice. We must use several of our Body Refining cultivators."
The Emperor's expression twisted. His face spasmed with indecision. He knew the technique she spoke of. It's a dark art that can temporarily elevate a normal, trained soldier to the strength of the Body Refining stage, but the cost is monstrous, reducing the subject's lifespan to a mere ten years. Even with this terrible price, these artificially created cultivators were invaluable assets. He needed their strength to maintain his iron grip on an empire teetering on the brink of chaos.
"Don't hesitate," the woman said, her voice turning to ice. "With the materials I have saved, I can create three such warriors. Their strength will be unmatched by any mortal army. Your Majesty must understand," she insisted, pressing her point, "a single innate spiritual treasure is worth more than a million soldiers. It can change the fate of an empire."
The Emperor closed his eyes for a moment, weighing the cost against the potential reward. Then he opened them, his gaze cold and utterly decisive. "...Very well. Seize it at any cost."
Naturally, the Emperor and his consort weren't the only ones who sensed the phenomenon. In a city much closer to the source, a group of merchants and their guards stood on a high balcony, gazing toward the distant southern mountains. A pillar of golden light, thin as a needle but blindingly bright, pierced the heavens. Their faces were grim with understanding and concern.
"Is that… Miss Su's territory?" one of the guards muttered, his hand shading his eyes against the distant glare.
"There's no doubt about it. So this is why she chose to seclude herself in the Southern Borderlands. She wasn't hiding. She was guarding a treasure." The pieces clicked into place in his mind.
The Body Refining guard who had personally met Su Min nodded silently. Unlike his master, he could feel the pull of the treasure more keenly; it was a siren's call that stirred the spiritual energy within his core. The mystery of why a figure of her power would live in such a desolate place was now solved. His every instinct screamed that the treasure was a thing of immense power, but his reason shouted a warning. Anyone who dared to compete with her for it would meet a swift and final end. His own strength was frail and insignificant in comparison.
"Should we… send her reinforcements?" the guard asked hesitantly, though he already knew the answer.
"No," the merchant said after a long moment of thought. "Unless she explicitly asks for aid, we must stay out of it. Many will lose themselves to greed over this. The sharks are already circling."
He let out a weary sigh, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "Better to send an urgent message to all our branches. No one is to interfere. Miss Su is an alchemist. The long-term benefits of earning her goodwill far outweigh any gamble for a single treasure, no matter how powerful." It was a calculated, mercantile decision, but a wise one.
They quickly settled on their plan: to observe and wait. Su Min hadn't asked for help, and even if she had, their merchant association, which still nominally served the Fu King, couldn't openly oppose the imperial court without facing devastating repercussions. Getting involved would only make them cannon fodder in a war between titans.
Yet, while they understood this, countless others across the vast expanse of Great Wei didn't. In that moment, undercurrents that had been swirling for years began to churn into a frenzy. In remote sects hidden in misty peaks, in fortified noble estates, and in dark, filthy alleys, countless figures stirred into motion, their eyes blazing with naked greed. For an invisible message had echoed in the minds of all who had the cultivation to sense the phenomenon, a universal timer set by the heavens themselves:
[Three months remain until the treasure is born.]
This gave everyone ample time to converge on the Southern Frontier. And they all knew that once a treasure entered this phase, it would be enveloped by a protective force field born of the heavens themselves. Ordinary hands couldn't touch it. And those who were powerful enough to break the field wouldn't dare, for to destroy a treasure born of heaven's will was to invite divine retribution upon oneself and one's lineage for generations. The only way to possess it was to be there when it matured, and to be worthy. The stage was set for a confrontation that would shake the empire to its core.