The news of the grasslands' catastrophic defeat and Prince Yong's overwhelming victory spread across the land like wildfire, shaking the entire realm to its core.
Had the steppe clans succeeded in breaching Yongzhou, the fertile heartlands of Great Wei would have been laid bare and defenseless. The nation was already rotting from within, its people weary, its granaries often empty. They could hardly endure another great calamity. No sane person wished to see that grim future unfold.
Well, almost no one.
Bang!
A thunderous crash echoed through the opulent halls of the imperial palace as Emperor Wei slammed his palm down, shattering the fine sandalwood table before him into splinters.
"Late stage Qi Refining... a full set of yellow grade spiritual armor... and a damn master alchemist on top of it all!" he seethed, his face a mask of purple rage. "And that brat Yong... he has four cultivators in the Qi Refining stage now! Four!"
That fact, more than the military defeat, sent the emperor into a blind, sputtering fury. These were not common soldiers raised through temporary, body wrecking forbidden techniques; they were genuine, foundationally solid Qi Refining cultivators. Each one was a strategic treasure, a force multiplier that even the emperor himself desperately desired. And now Prince Yong had four of them under his direct command.
"Calm yourself, Your Majesty," came a silken, teasing voice from the shadows of the chamber. It belonged to the Demon Queen, her form half hidden in the dim light. "They are just Qi Refining cultivators. Nothing for an emperor to fear. And according to our most recent intelligence, that woman has already left Prince Yong's estate. It was likely a temporary alliance of convenience. Now that their business is complete, she has probably gone into deep seclusion again."
She laughed softly, the sound a blend of poisoned honey and cold amusement. "Unless we can somehow locate her hidden retreat, there is absolutely nothing we can do about her."
The emperor's jaw clenched so tight it ached. "How much longer until you can move freely again?" he asked, his voice dark and impatient.
The Demon Queen smirked, a predatory flash in her eyes. "Still a while yet. But, Your Majesty… are you so sure you want me roaming about entirely freely already? Your own cultivation still has not reached the level required to be... safe."
At that blunt reminder, the emperor fell into a frustrated silence. He knew all too well how many enemies lurked in the shadows of his court and beyond, waiting for a moment of weakness to orchestrate his downfall. He was acutely aware of the countless atrocities he had committed to secure his power. There were certainly those capable of bypassing the protective aura of imperial fate to strike him down.
The Demon Queen practiced a unique and terrifying form of dual cultivation, an extreme and dark variation of the Hehuan path. Her former power had been legendary, nearly unmatched in her prime. But that same immense strength made a simple self sealing hibernation technique, like the one used by the two Elders of Flame and Earth, impossible for her.
To survive the great shift in the world's spiritual energy, she had been forced to cripple her own cultivation, even severing half of her foundation. Her recovery now required two rare and dreadful conditions. First, she had to constantly absorb the vital essence and fresh blood of young maidens to sustain her damaged soul. Second, she needed over a century of uninterrupted dual cultivation with a partner who bore genuine imperial qi.
During that entire period, the two of them could not be apart for long, or the delicate, dark progress would collapse completely. As for Emperor Wei, his aged body was already failing, ravaged by time and indulgence. Even with her demonic methods and having just barely broken into the Body Refining stage through their cultivation together, the deep seated damage left by age and illness remained severe and agonizingly difficult to mend.
"Humph."
The emperor frowned deeply, the lines on his face etching deeper with frustration. In the end, he could only grit his teeth and swallow his fury. He understood perfectly why the alchemist woman would never, ever side with him. It all stemmed from his own reckless attempt years ago to seize that innate spiritual treasure she possessed. Not only had his forces failed spectacularly, but they had also offended her beyond any hope of reconciliation with their crude and violent methods. The fact that she had yet to openly declare herself his enemy, and was merely operating independently, was, in his own cynical calculation, a form of mercy.
"A pity for that Yong brat…" the emperor finally muttered, his voice dropping to a cold, venomous whisper. "Let him enjoy his fleeting victory while it lasts."
His words were filled with a quiet, simmering murderous intent. Prince Yong's prestige was now soaring, and the emperor dared not make a direct move just yet, especially with three stable Qi Refining cultivators firmly at his side, one of whom was his own heir. The true, terrifying source of this threat, however, was Su Min's alchemy. She had not even declared herself an enemy, and already her casual actions and partnerships had backed him into a corner. If she ever truly stood against him openly, the consequences would be unthinkable.
While politics and paranoia churned within the palace, the wider Jianghu world erupted with wild rumors and speculation. Su Min's reputation, once known only in certain circles, now spread like a prairie fire.
"The story of one woman repelling an army of hundreds of thousands" became an instant legend, told and retold in every tea house and inn. The mental image of her standing alone on the battlefield, her azure wings of fire unfurled, single handedly scattering a force of nearly a million soldiers, defied all imagination. Her combat prowess was the subject of terrified and awed discussion. Even the revered Mo Zhangmen, the sect leader hailed by many as the strongest figure in the current martial world, had been completely and utterly outclassed.
"A real shame," people whispered to each other in quiet corners of sect halls and training grounds. "Had she remained in the world of men, the title of Martial Alliance Leader would have been hers, no question."
"That position… so many would kill for it, fight tooth and nail for generations, yet she just walked away without a second thought."
"Hah, one of her pills is enough to drive an entire major sect mad with greed. Why would a person like that care for a hollow title and administrative headaches?"
"Tch… you have a point."
The gossip spread everywhere, a mixture of frank admiration and deep regret. The Great Martial Tournament was fast approaching. Every major and minor sect would send their strongest disciples and elders to compete for the prestigious title of Martial Alliance Leader, the figure who could nominally command the respect of the entire Jianghu. But everyone knew that if Su Min had so much as nodded her head, that seat would have been handed to her instantly, without a single contest.
Instead, she had vanished without a trace.
And so, the title would now most likely fall to Sect Leader Mo by default. His strength and fame were undeniable. A Qi Refining cultivator was unmatched within the martial world. He had even played a major role in the recent war, working alongside Su Min to test the limits of the two ancient monsters who were now spoken of only in fearful whispers. Yet, when compared to her, he still fell short in the eyes of the people, both in raw, destructive power and in the sheer prestige that came with being a master alchemist. Every great sect had something they desperately wanted from her. Their very futures were now indirectly tied to her craft.
"Humph."
Of course, not everyone in the Jianghu was pleased. Sect Leader Mo himself, sitting in his quiet meditation hall, was well aware of the rumors circulating about him. He knew, without a shred of doubt, that Su Min was infinitely more suited to lead and unite the martial world than he would ever be.
But what could he say? What could he do?
His current cultivation, his priceless spiritual sword, his very standing among the elite… all were indirect gifts from her hand. Speaking ill of her was unthinkable, a profound betrayal. She stood on a peak so far above him that he dared not even imagine opposing her. The title of Alliance Leader might be a ceremonial honor in his hands, but in hers, it could have been a tool to truly command the Jianghu's scattered forces and reshape the land.
Elsewhere, far from the politics of the court and the gossip of the Jianghu, on a remote, windswept mountain peak, a lone figure sat cross legged beneath the vast, starry sky. He gazed into the infinite, dark tapestry, his eyes seeing patterns invisible to others.
"The dragon's aura stirs, rising from the west… can it be Prince Yong?" the monk, the same one who had parted ways with Su Min in the desert, murmured to the night. "My Buddhist friend's vision aligns with what I see here."
He slowly rose to his feet, his tattered robe rippling in the cold mountain wind. "The world has suffered under this chaos for too long. The people groan under the weight of tyranny. It is time to move."
For countless nights, he had watched the stars and read the subtle patterns of fate, waiting for a sign. Now, a definitive shift had occurred in the celestial currents, faint to most but unmistakable to his trained senses. He was certain of it. Su Min's alliance with Prince Yong was no secret to him; he had felt the ripples of their combined karma.
"As expected of a true spiritual friend. Her insight into people and potential is flawless." A determined light entered his eyes. "Very well. I shall go and meet this so called prince. Let us see if he truly possesses the virtue and strength worthy of shouldering the Mandate of Heaven."
With that final whisper to the wind, his figure faded into the night like dissipating mist, and a profound silence once again embraced the lonely mountain peak.