A month passes.
Kaelan's clone returns—sitting inside a carriage rolling through the Tang Kingdom's capital.
Through the small window, he watches the cityscape unfold. The once-ruined streets now stretch and are rebuilt, stronger than before—cement lining roads, bridges, and walls. Buildings once burned now stand anew, cleaner, sharper, and more orderly.
His spirit sense sweeps outward.
The Wizard Academy's first main castle is complete.
A faint smile touches his lips.
The time has come… I will announce the second preaching—this one explaining the Official Wizard Realm.
The carriage slows—stopping before the palace gates.
Royal guards shout,
"Who goes there?"
Kaelan lowers the window and reveals his face.
Silence—then all guards drop to one knee.
"Lord Kong!"
Kaelan simply says:
"Open the gate."
The window closes.
The driver sits stiff and speechless.
He had traveled all the way from the Chen Kingdom believing his passenger was merely some young noble—someone with a strange low cultivation but an alarming amount of tokens and authority.
Now he realizes he has been carrying the most terrifying figure in the world, disguised in simple robes.
The gates swing open quickly. The horses step forward, pulling the carriage inside.
Along the path, citizens kneel—or bow—one after another as they recognize the carriage.
By the time they reach the palace courtyard, a large crowd has already gathered.
As the wheels stop, the voices rise:
"Lord Kong—thank you for returning!"
Li Xueyao stands among them. Relief softens her expression—her pillar has returned.
The noble families kneel as well—not out of loyalty, but out of necessity. The world has changed. New Gang Qi martial sects appeared across distant kingdoms, the Chen Kingdom fell under Kong Wuya's shadow, and the era of martial supremacy ended.
If they do not follow the Wizard path here—they will be left behind.
Kaelan steps from the carriage.
The crowd senses his cultivation—and shock ripples through them.
Before tension grows, Kaelan speaks clearly:
"I am a clone."
A visible wave of relief washes across the courtyard.
If someone had injured the real Kong Wuya, the Tang Kingdom would have already been doomed.
Kaelan gestures to one guard.
"Take the driver to rest. Pay him tomorrow and send him home."
The guard bows and obeys.
Kaelan walks toward the palace steps.
Li Xueyao approaches with quiet grace and says softly,
"Shall we go to our chambers first?"
Kaelan shakes his head.
"No. We go to the throne room. I must address them."
The crowd parts as he and Li Xueyao ascend the steps—entering the heart of the kingdom he now firmly controls.
Inside the throne room, Kaelan sits beside Li Xueyao—on a throne equal in height to hers.
Originally, the consort seat had been smaller, symbolic and ceremonial. But now a second throne—equal in size and presence—sits beside the Queen's.
Because everyone understands:
He is the true pillar of this kingdom.
Its silent ruler.
Kaelan speaks first.
Calm. Precise. Unhurried.
He explains what happened in the Chen Kingdom—the fall of its royal family, the chaos, the battles—and finally, the establishment of a parliament to restore order.
His words carry weight. No one interrupts.
When he finishes, Li Xueyao turns to the ministers and asks:
"Next matter—Chen Yuyan. She arrived a few days ago and is currently under refuge. What should we do with her?"
A minister immediately steps forward.
"We should send her back to the Chen Kingdom, Your Majesty. It would help build diplomatic ties with their new parliament."
Another minister scoffs.
"With Lord Kong here, do we need to lower ourselves to gain their favor? Keeping her ensures influence over their government. A royal bloodline in our custody is leverage."
Murmurs rise.
Opinions divide.
Soon the room splits into three groups—those agreeing to send her back, those wanting to keep her, and those who wisely remain silent, waiting to see which side wins.
Kaelan says nothing.
He watches.
Listens.
He already has a plan for Chen Yuyan—but timing matters, and so does political theater.
Then—
Dong.
The guard at the entrance announces loudly:
"Lord Tang Luyan requests an audience!"
Li Xueyao gestures gracefully.
"Let him in."
Tang Luyan enters, every step confident yet respectful. Ministers step aside as he walks to the center of the hall—standing directly beneath the throne platform.
He bows deeply toward Kaelan.
When he straightens, the Queen briefly summarizes the ongoing debate.
Then she asks: "Lord Tang, which option do you support?"
Tang Luyan doesn't answer immediately.
Instead, he turns to Kaelan—meeting his gaze with the seriousness of someone fully aware that every decision here shapes history.
"With your permission," Tang Luyan says steadily,
"I would first hear Lord Kong's intention for the Chen Kingdom."
Silence settles.
Everyone waits.
Even Li Xueyao turns fully toward him—not as a wife toward her husband, but as a ruler awaiting the will of a sovereign.
Kaelan speaks calmly.
"I have no plan for the Chen Kingdom except one—those who rule it will help spread the Wizard Way."
Tang Luyan nods, expression easing.
"Then it is better for the court if Chen Yuyan remains here."
Li Xueyao inclines her head.
"Very well—we will follow Lord Tang's recommendation."
Kaelan raises his hand slightly, voice carrying through the throne room.
"I have another announcement—one month from now, I will preach again."
A ripple passes through the ministers—surprise, excitement, relief.
Smiles begin forming, subtle and wide, because many of them either reached the Official Wizard Realm or stand on its threshold.
Kaelan continues.
"This time, I will preach the path of the Official Wizard Realm."
The reaction becomes brighter—relief turning into anticipation.
"And tomorrow," he adds, "the Wizard Academy will officially open."
A minister cannot help but step forward.
"Lord Kong… will you accept new students?"
Kaelan nods slowly.
"Yes—but only those under fifteen who have already reached the Wizard Apprentice realm."
That answer satisfies them.
Soon, the ministers bow and withdraw—leaving only Kaelan, Li Xueyao, and Tang Luyan in the vast throne hall.
Tang Luyan takes one step forward and asks in a low tone:
"Lord Kong… when will we receive our meditation method?"
Kaelan thinks for a breath.
"In one week, I will give you the complete bronze-grade version."
Tang Luyan bows deeply, gratitude showing through his strict expression, and then leaves.
The throne room grows quiet.
Li Xueyao rises, Kaelan stands beside her, and together they leave—disappearing into their private chambers.
Behind closed doors, words become unnecessary.
She shows him through action how much she missed him.
Later—both dressed again, calm and composed—Li Xueyao speaks first.
"I gathered all the farming knowledge within the royal prefecture."
Kaelan nods.
"Good. Test every recorded method and compare results. When it becomes clear which works, compile them into a single book."
Li Xueyao nods again, more firmly.
"I will do so."
Kaelan finishes tying his robe and looks toward her.
"And did you announce the crop engineering initiative?"
She shakes her head.
"You left the next morning, so I did not. I will announce it tomorrow."
Kaelan steps toward the door, his tone casual yet absolute.
"Continue practicing other meditation methods until I create one suited for you."
Then he leaves—quiet, precise, decisive—his footsteps fading into the stillness of the corridor.
Inside his cultivation chamber, Kaelan pauses—not to meditate, but to prepare.
Before he sits, he begins arranging an array.
The symbols spread across the floor like a flowing script—circles, runes, geometric channels that will nourish his spirit, restore his mana, and stabilize his form.
Because he is a clone—only condensed mana shaped into flesh—and if he remains idle, he can sustain himself by absorbing spiritual energy.
But thinking, deducing techniques, comprehending laws—those burn through his mind like a wildfire through dry grass.
So long before returning, he planned this, and it took him a month to deduce even this incomplete foundation—an early version of what will one day become a true cultivation array for the mind.
And with only a single thread of consciousness, his thinking speed is no different from a mortal—slow, linear, insufficient.
When the array is complete, he tosses hundreds of lower-grade spirit stones into the carved grooves.
The runes ignite with a low hum—energy flowing like veins of light across the circle.
Kaelan steps into the center and activates it.
Power rises, adjusts, synchronizes—his body stabilizes, the mana-form becoming clearer, sharper, steadier.
He tests his mind and discovers it has only doubled—still far too slow.
So before doing anything else, he resumes deduction.
Hours pass.
Each time the array improves even slightly, he stops, adjusts the formation, and activates the new configuration.
Then he continues—relentless, silent, methodical.
And slowly, the change becomes dramatic—not fast, but notic
eable—until his thinking speed reaches twenty percent of his true self.
Only then does he stop.
Only then does he begin deducing the meditation technique for Tang Luyan and the elders of the newly formed Wizard Association.
---
END