The assets that had been embezzled and swallowed over the years—Wang Yu knew that even if he tried to forcibly reclaim them, he wouldn't succeed. So instead, he chose to treat them as future rewards, playing the role of a magnanimous lord.
Maintaining a veneer of civility.
"Next, this City Lord will begin auditing the lost spirit fields, the ledgers of shops across the five districts, and the unpaid taxes owed by the three major clans.
"I wonder—do the esteemed talents of Spiritridge have the confidence to see this through? If successful, I will personally recommend your most outstanding descendants to enter the Holy Sect's inner circle."
The crowd exchanged glances.
The reward was tempting, but compared to the difficulty of the task, it was laughably inadequate.
Some things simply couldn't be done.
Even Chao Yun-niang gave a bitter smile. "City Lord, you underestimate the difficulty. Even at its peak, the City Lord's Manor couldn't collect everything—let alone now."
As she spoke, she glanced toward the representatives of Inkveil Gate and Fragrant Doctrine. Her meaning was clear.
She was warning Wang Yu.
These Core Formation sects understood the terror of Nascent Soul powers. On matters of principle, they were willing to lend him support to help him through this awkward phase of lacking subordinates.
But when their own interests were involved, they couldn't be trusted. Trying to collect five years' worth of taxes was tantamount to Wang Yu standing alone against the entire city.
And if he failed, the next five-year cycle would continue the same inertia—delayed payments, unpaid taxes, and systemic rot.
The hall fell into a long silence. No one responded.
Wang Yu sneered inwardly.
A bunch of worms. How could they ever make Spiritridge thrive?
If no one was willing, then forget it. If he couldn't eat, he'd flip the whole table.
Destruction before rebirth. He still had a million spirit stones in the City Lord's vault to cover this cycle's tribute. The next five-year deadline was far off—no need to rush.
As he debated whether to use the formation to trap them all or let them go and try another method—
The Bai Clan's Grand Elder finally spoke.
"City Lord, my Bai Clan is willing to set an example. We will repay all unpaid taxes from the past five years in full."
"Oh—?"
Wang Yu was genuinely surprised. In his mind, the Bai Clan was the most stubborn. He'd expected the Jiang Clan to fold first.
The Jiang Clan had shallow foundations. When pushed, they'd simply surrender.
But the Bai Clan was deep-rooted, with many powerful cultivators. Had he truly awakened their fear of the Blood Reversal Sect?
The Guan and Jiang Clan heads were both stunned. They wanted to object, but Wang Yu's cold gaze silenced them.
The Bai Clan's Grand Elder spoke gently.
"Guan Clan Head, Jiang Clan Head—the City Lord has shown great leniency toward our past transgressions. Let's not resist. Resolve this now, lest the Holy Sect come knocking later."
Wang Yu, well-versed in the Demonic Path's nature, didn't demand every last coin. But the general sum had to match expectations.
The Bai Clan's elder had played the role of messenger well.
Thus, major matters could be reduced to minor ones—and minor ones resolved entirely.
"Today's business ends here.
"Bai Clan Grand Elder, I grant you one month to repay all overdue taxes. If you fail, the penalty will be severe. This applies to everyone.
"Dismissed."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"As you command."
Some left relieved, others resentful. After departing the City Lord's Manor, the Guan Clan head grabbed the Bai Clan elder and growled, "What are you playing at?"
The Bai elder shrugged innocently and whispered a secret transmission.
A moment later—
The Guan Clan head released his grip, eyes wide with shock.
"This… won't this completely provoke that brat?"
"So what? He's just a brat who relies on formations. No troops, no generals. What can he do to us?"
Their secret conversation ended. The Jiang Clan head approached.
"Brother Guan, what did the Bai elder tell you?"
"You really want to know?"
"Of course."
"Heh—"
The Guan Clan head leaned in and whispered four words.
"Fire Dragon Burns the Granary."
…
…
Elsewhere—
After sending the guests away, Wang Yu no longer concerned himself with petty schemes. Since the Bai Clan had voluntarily submitted, he was willing to give them a chance to clear the misunderstanding surrounding their former clan head's death.
He'd been in Spiritridge for some time now. It was time to refocus on cultivation. No matter how cunning one's schemes, they meant nothing before a Nascent Soul elder's fist.
In the cultivation world, realm was the ultimate authority.
If he had Core Formation cultivation, he wouldn't need to worry about these matters. He could simply enforce his rules.
Cultivation was his true priority. Governing Spiritridge was merely a means to support his path. That order must never be reversed.
With a solid foundation laid, the next step was patience.
That day—
Wang Yu entered the Essence Chamber, the most spiritually rich room in the City Lord's Manor. Built atop a third-tier mid-grade spiritual vein, it was one of many such chambers.
These cultivation facilities benefited those with two, three, or four spiritual roots the most. They were especially sensitive to environmental enhancements.
Back at Snowfall Tower, he'd considered Essence Chambers useless. Now, they were vital tools for accelerating his cultivation. Over time, they could generate substantial true essence.
Lighting a stick of Tranquil Mind Incense, Wang Yu sat cross-legged on a meditation mat.
Without the Heavenly Insight Mat, it took him a moment to adjust. But as his cultivation method activated, he gradually entered the proper state.
This time, he was here to advance his spiritual sense.
He inhaled deeply. Dense black ghostly energy seeped from his limbs and bones. The [Soul-Devouring Armor Technique] activated, and the black armor sigil at his navel glowed brightly.
The chamber howled with cold wind.
The souls Wang Yu had devoured seemed to awaken. Their eyes glowed red, mouths filled with fangs—some were human, others beast.
At the center, Wang Yu's physical body faded. Only a translucent soul body remained, frowning in concentration. White soul-flames radiated from him—this was the spiritual sense technique [Celestial Soul Qi].
The hundreds of vengeful spirits bound to the armor surged forward. This was their enemy—if not now, then when?
Outside—
Wang Yu remained seated, wrapped in black armor. No movement.
The ghost faces etched into the armor seemed to come alive, shifting constantly. Though his eyes were closed, he was immersed in a devouring illusion.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on his body.
This was the intermediate-level [Soul-Shattering Finger]. He was using the backlash of soul-devouring to temper his spiritual sense. Each shattered spirit returned to its ghost-face glyph, entering dormancy until they absorbed enough power to revive and strike again.
This was the secret of the [Soul-Devouring Armor Technique]. If the spirits were destroyed completely, the armor's power would diminish—an unacceptable loss.
Control was everything.
No one knew how long passed. When Wang Yu awoke, he was drenched in sweat—evidence of pain endured.
His body was weak, but his eyes were sharp.
"As expected, soul-devouring backlash is a perfect tempering method. My spiritual sense has reached late Foundation Establishment…"
Ancient Soul Codex + Lunar Nether Radiance—his cultivation soared.
After resting briefly, Wang Yu reactivated the backlash. He wanted to force all the spirits into dormancy at once, lest they interfere during future battles.
The technique's side effects… seemed to have been bypassed.
Meanwhile—
At the Bai Clan estate in Spiritridge—
When the Bai Clan's Grand Elder explained his brilliant plan—Fire Dragon Burns the Granary—to the Bai Clan Patriarch…
The nearly three-hundred-year-old patriarch, a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator with lingering injuries and extended lifespan, slapped him across the hall.
"—You fool!"
His blood surged. Already near his limit, the rage made him dizzy. He pointed a trembling finger at the culprit.
"Bai Zhiyang! I told you to offer reparations—and this is what you do? Do you want to doom the entire Bai Clan?!"
The elder crawled from the rubble, clutching his swollen cheek. He growled.
"Patriarch, that brat is only at the second layer of Foundation Establishment. Without the manor's formation, our clan head wouldn't have died. He clearly intends to destroy us."
"You… you—!"
More elders rushed in, supporting the patriarch.
"Patriarch, please calm yourself."
"Gah—"
After a long moment, the patriarch punched his own chest, coughing up a mouthful of blood. His complexion improved slightly. He gasped.
"You keep calling him 'brat'—but can't you sense how young his life aura is?"
The elder hesitated, then muttered.
"Feels… under fifty."
"What? A prodigy like that, entrusted with Spiritridge at such a young age—clearly the Holy Sect is grooming him."
Among the elders, some showed shock and concern. Others revealed disdain and greed.
"So what?" one elder scoffed. "If he's come to Spiritridge, then whether he's a dragon or a tiger, he'll have to lie low. If he wants spirit stones from the Bai Clan, we'll burn the granaries and see how he collects. He wouldn't dare come out!"
"Exactly. He's just a turtle hiding in his shell. As long as we don't step into the City Lord's Manor, what can he do to us?"
Faced with these reckless declarations, the Bai Clan Patriarch felt a wave of despair. He struggled to his feet, trembling with fury.
"Fools! Utter fools!"
"Spiritridge City belongs to the Holy Sect. You can defy anyone, but you must never defy the Holy Sect. Even if we have dealings with Nether Spring Temple, we must still pay our rightful share in taxes!"
"—Patriarch!"
The Grand Elder, Bai Zhiyang, his face twisted with resolve, had already made up his mind.
"Men! Escort the Patriarch back to the ancestral estate outside the city. Send all direct disciples of the third branch with him."
"Fire Dragon Burns the Granary—I will see it through."
(End of Chapter)