Imperial Palace.
Wenhua Hall.
Emperor Chong’an, tormented by illness for years, had long since wasted away to skin and bones. The vast yellow imperial robe hung on his frame, a grotesque mismatch.
It was like a monkey wearing a crown.
He lay on the massive dragon throne, a sneer spreading across his face as he looked down at the kneeling Crown Prince.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
"Isn’t being benevolent and renowned for your literary talent enough for you? Now you want to be peerless in Martial Arts and have the courage to lead armies, all to earn a grand reputation for both civil and military prowess?"
"Father." Crown Prince Qii Xian raised his head.
"It’s ’Your Majesty’!" Emperor Chong’an’s voice sharpened.
"...Your Majesty." Qii Xian gritted his teeth and said in a strained voice:
"Bandits are running rampant and the people are living in misery. Even the Capital Region has been affected. We must quell this rebellion at once."
"I am willing to accept the military command and lead the troops to war."
"I know I am not skilled, but my heart is loyal to the nation. I will surely wipe out the bandits and restore peace and prosperity to the realm."
"So you admit your own incompetence," Emperor Chong’an scoffed.
"You’re a frail scholar who’s fainted at the sight of blood since childhood. How could you possibly suppress an uprising of a million bandits?"
"I believe your third brother is sufficient for the task."
"He has cultivated the Martial Arts since childhood and reached the rank of Divine Treasure Martial Saint at a young age. All he lacks now is some experience leading troops."
"Your Majesty!" Qii Xian’s head snapped up, his expression faltering.
"Third Brother is still young. His Martial Arts Talent may be astounding, but the slaughter of the battlefield is nothing like a tournament duel. Moreover, the right to command the army has always rested with either Your Majesty or the Crown Prince. How can such a tradition be so easily changed?"
"And why can’t it be changed?" Emperor Chong’an said, his gaze lowering.
"Crown Princes can be deposed too."
At those words, Qii Xian’s body went rigid. His eyes reddened and a look of struggle crossed his face before he slowly bowed his head.
"Your Majesty."
"It would be improper for Third Brother to lead the army. It would be a terrible thing if he were to get hurt. It would be better to dispatch the Dukes to lead the suppression."
"The Dukes?" Emperor Chong’an sneered.
"Do you think the chaos from the rebellion of the Dukes a few years ago wasn’t enough?"
"We suppressed them with great difficulty, and now you want to loosen the leash we have on them? The Daqi Empire will be ruined at your hands sooner or later!"
"I would not dare," Qii Xian said, hastily kowtowing.
"What is there that you wouldn’t dare?" Emperor Chong’an roared, slamming the armrest of his throne as he shot to his feet. An incredible pressure erupted from his gaunt frame, and his eyes bulged with fury as he bellowed:
"Qii Xian!"
"Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?"
"Colluding with the Demon Sect, worshipping Buddhas, chanting Daoist verses... you’ve done every single thing our ancestors forbade!"
"Do you dare claim you had nothing to do with the affair of Prince Fenyang?"
His continuous roaring left him breathless. He clutched his chest with one hand and gripped the armrest of the dragon throne with the other.
"Famed for your benevolence, known for your magnanimity... oh, you have such a fine reputation!"
"Next to you, the ’virtuous’ Crown Prince, I am infamous for my tyranny, my greed, my lechery! I’m sure every official in this court hopes my illness proves fatal, so you—their oh-so-virtuous and talented Crown Prince—can ascend the throne all the sooner."
Crown Prince Qii Xian’s face drained of all color. He frantically slammed his forehead against the floor, the impacts echoing with loud thuds against the cyan jade tiles.
"I have absolutely no such thoughts!"
"I am at fault!"
"Of course you’re at fault," Emperor Chong’an said, his face twisting into a savage sneer.
"Your fault lies in not resigning your position as Crown Prince! Your fault lies in feigning filial piety while your heart is filled with resentment! I will find a reason to depose you sooner or later. Daqi was founded on Martial Arts; we can never allow a weak-willed scholar to be Emperor."
"I..."
"I wish I could issue an edict right now and strip you of your title!"
Qii Xian gritted his teeth, his fingernails digging so deeply into his palms that fresh blood streamed from his fists. He continued to kowtow, over and over.
THUD!
THUD! THUD!
He couldn’t argue back; to do so would be to risk being charged with the crime of defiance and filial impiety.
Emperor Chong’an had long wanted to depose him as Crown Prince, but he had never found a suitable pretext.
If he were to be deposed by force, neither the court officials nor the Imperial Clan Court would approve.
The Crown Prince?
In name, he was second only to one and above all others. In reality, only one in his position could know how fragile that power truly was.
So Qii Xian could only endure. He had to wait it out, to persevere until Emperor Chong’an’s body finally gave out. Only then would he see the dawn.
"What are you thinking?"
Emperor Chong’an returned to the dragon throne, panting, and stared at Qii Xian with narrowed eyes.
"I know what you’re thinking, even if you don’t say it. You’re wondering when I’m going to die, aren’t you? Well, rest assured, I won’t be dying until your third brother is the Crown Prince."
"You useless waste. Making you Crown Prince is the greatest regret of my life."
In his fury.
Emperor Chong’an was so furious he even forgot his royal affectations, simply hurling one vicious curse after another at Qii Xian.
It was hard to imagine.
A father speaking to his son with such words.
"Get out!"
"I don’t want to see you."
"I will take my leave." Qii Xian kowtowed one last time. His forehead was smeared with blood, and his steps were unsteady as he exited the grand hall.
He glanced back at the towering Wenhua Hall, a bitter expression crossing his features.
Then, his eyes turned hard.
「Half a month later.」
Over the objections of the entire court, Emperor Chong’an obstinately had his way, appointing the Third Prince as commander and sending him to lead the army against the bandits.
Once the rebellion was suppressed and he had such a brilliant military victory to his name, it would be a simple matter to make the Third Prince the new Crown Prince.
*
*
*
Southern Barbarian Hall.
Several steeds, bearing the bloodline of Exotic Beasts, charged into the courtyard. A Barbarian leaped from his horse, waving a letter in his hand.
"Urgent report!"
"The Princess Consort was gravely ill and could not be cured. She passed away seven days ago."
"Where is Prince Batu?"
The news made everyone in the Yi Hall turn pale. One man stepped forward, trembling.
"The Prince went to the Imperial City Workshop to supervise the construction of the Golden Man for His Majesty. I’ll send someone to inform him right away."
"Then hurry up!"
"Yes."
「An hour later.」
Batu rushed into the Yi Hall and snatched the letter from the Southern Barbarians. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Mother!"
"No!"
"Mother was a First-Grade Grandmaster, and she wasn’t even old! How could she just suddenly... suddenly be gone?"
With bloodshot eyes, Batu leaped to his feet, grabbed the messenger, and roared:
"Speak!"
"How did Mother die? Did someone harm her?"
"Prince." The Barbarian’s face was deathly pale:
"The Princess Consort was struck by a sudden, virulent illness and could not be saved."
"Bullshit!" Batu, who had always presented a cultured facade, raged.
"What sickness could strike down a First-Grade Grandmaster so suddenly? Besides, the National Preceptor was there! The National Preceptor..."
His expression suddenly changed.
"What about the National Preceptor?"
"Even the National Preceptor could not save the Princess Consort," the Barbarian said, shaking his head and lowering his voice.
"Prince."
"Regarding the Princess Consort’s funeral, the Barbarian King has decreed that you are not to return. It is sufficient for you to set up a memorial altar here in the Divine Capital to pay your respects."
"Also..."
He swallowed hard and stammered.
"The Barbarian King has named Prince Bane the new heir to the throne. From now on, you are to remain here and manage affairs in the Divine Capital."
Batu swayed and staggered backward, the rage and grief in his eyes melting away into a blank, vacant stare.
"Brother Bane?"
"How could this happen?"
"Batu." Just then, an old man in a long robe emerged from behind him and spoke in a slow voice.
"I told you long ago. The king of the Barbarians cannot grow too close to the Qii People. You adopted their dress and their studies but neglected the Martial Arts. I knew you would regret it one day."
"Senior Shamu," Batu said, turning to face him and gritting his teeth.
"Daqi is a hundred, even a thousand times more prosperous than the lands of the Southern Barbarians! With such a great power right next to us, what is the point of clinging to our old ways?"
"The people of the Southern Barbarians starve and go without proper clothing. Only by following Daqi’s example and embracing civilization can we leave the mountains and cease our savage ways."
"Hmph!" Shamu grunted.
"If you had inherited the throne, you would have surely pushed for reforms to make the Southern Barbarians more like the Qii People. Do you think the others would have allowed that?"
At the very least,
The Barbarian King and the Dharma King would not have agreed.
Nor would the current ruling class of the Southern Barbarians.
"Batu."
Shamu shook his head.
"Daqi wasn’t founded on literature, Magic, poetry, or song. It was founded on the fists of its first emperor, fists that shattered all opposition."
"You are weak. Therefore, you are at the mercy of others!"
Batu froze.
...
「Night.」
Batu knelt before the simple memorial altar, whispering continuously as he kowtowed again and again in accordance with Southern Barbarian custom.
"Mother..."
"Was I really wrong?"
Confusion filled his eyes as he gazed toward the distant lands of the Southern Barbarians.
After a long while.
Batu took a jade pendant from his robes. His expression shifted several times before, with a final grit of his teeth, he crushed the pendant in his hand.
CRACK!
A faint, ethereal wisp of Spiritual Light drifted from the shattered jade pendant and shot into the distance.
Just a moment later, the black-robed Zhu Ju appeared before him and spoke in a leisurely tone.
"Have you made up your mind?"
"Senior," Batu said, still kneeling, his jaw clenched tight.
"Can you really help me become a Divine Treasure Martial Saint?"
"I can only offer you a choice. Whether or not you succeed is another matter," Zhu Ju said, shaking his head gently.
"You were born with a unique constitution and have been tempered by countless poisons, making you the perfect vessel for cultivating a Poisonous Skill."
"Otherwise, the Southern Barbarian Dharma King would never have taken such an interest in you."
But unfortunately.
This heir of the Southern Barbarians had been blinded by the splendors of Daqi after arriving in the empire.
Daqi’s might struck terror into his heart.
The Southern Barbarians,
stood no chance before the might of Daqi.
In Batu’s eyes, integration with Daqi was the only path forward for his people, and crude Poisonous Skills were something to be left behind.
Thus, for years he had abandoned his Ten Thousand Poisons True Skill to pursue a Daoist Method instead. He possessed world-shocking Talent, yet his Cultivation remained at a mere Third Grade.
His talent was utterly wasted.
"Senior."
Batu took a deep breath.
"At my age... is it truly not too late?"
At least,
in the eyes of the Southern Barbarian Dharma King, it was already far too late.
That was precisely why the Southern Barbarians had abandoned Batu. If he wanted to be a Qii Person, he could stay in the Divine Capital and be one.
The Southern Barbarians,
should be ruled by Barbarians!
"It’s not too late."
Zhu Ju’s voice was laced with temptation.
"I have a Method that can make your Cultivation skyrocket in a short time. The only catch is that it consumes your life force."
"Don’t worry..."
"If you can break through to the Divine Treasure Martial Saint realm before your life force is depleted, then there will be no lasting consequences."
’If he couldn’t, well, that was that.’
"Consume my life force?" Batu looked up, his expression shifting.
"A Demon Skill?"
"Heh..." Zhu Ju chuckled.
"Not a Demon Skill, a Poisonous Skill."
"It is similar to the Ten Thousand Poisons True Skill you once cultivated, only I call this technique the Ten Thousand Gu True Skill!"
"By cultivating this skill, you will nurture tens of thousands of blood-and-essence-devouring Gu Insects inside your body. They will be your bane, but also the source of your rapid increase in Cultivation."
’Gu Poison?’
’Zhu Ju knew it as well!’
He even possessed the legacy of the Five Poison Sect of the Ten Thousand Mountains, a heritage that could, in theory, allow one to reach the Golden Core realm.
Of course.
It was only theoretical, and the legacy was incomplete.
But in this world, it was an ultimate art, a level of profoundness beyond even the Vajra Realm and far superior to the Southern Barbarian Dharma King’s Ten Thousand Poisons True Skill.
Unfortunately.
This skill also required a special Talent. Batu’s Physical Body was unique; immune to all manner of strange poisons, he was perfectly suited to practice this art.
Of course.
The Ten Thousand Gu True Skill was something Zhu Ju had created by fusing the legacy of the Five Poison Sect with the Ten Thousand Poisons True Skill. Whether it would actually work remained to be seen.
He was just using Batu to run an experiment.
If it succeeded.
He would be able to completely deduce the method for connecting with the ’Essence Spirit’, which was of the utmost importance to him.
After a long period of contemplation, Batu finally made his decision.
"Senior!"
"Please, bestow this ultimate art upon me!"
"Haha..." Zhu Ju laughed heartily.
"Excellent!"
"I will now impart the Ten Thousand Gu True Skill to you."
’Huh?’
Just as he was about to impart the technique, Zhu Ju’s eyebrows twitched. A message had arrived from another place he was monitoring.
’The Crown Prince?’
’What is he up to?’
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