Immortal Travel of Longevity

The river of history has never lacked for those of unparalleled wisdom and courage.

Yan Nantian was exactly such a man. When he finally cast aside the last trace of willful indulgence in his heart, a true emperor awakened upon this land.

This prince, bearing the bloodline of the House of Yan, drew the sword at his waist and pointed it north.

Upon this land where the Xiang People and the North Desert People had once usurped the heavens, he would rise again and reclaim the skies!

In these chaotic times, the years blurred together, leaving no standard by which to record them.

Prince Yu marched north. He captured numerous cities belonging to Prince Jin in succession, forcefully tearing a gap in the north-south frontline with a fierce and relentless assault.

This late-rising conqueror used his butcher's blade to show the world the formidable might of the Yu Army. As far as the eye could see, a dense black tide of armored warhorses and ironclad soldiers swept across the land.

Every defender who saw it trembled in terror.

In March of that same year, Prince Jin retreated to Hui'an.

Prince Jin set up camp in Hui'an with his remaining thirty thousand troops.

An official edict arrived from the Imperial Court. An envoy brought the document for an audience with Prince Jin, attempting to offer amnesty.

"Amnesty?"

Prince Jin burst into maniacal laughter.

Just as suddenly, the laughter ceased. He viciously drew his blade and struck off the envoy's head.

No one had time to stop him; they could only watch the court envoy's head hit the ground.

"I, Prince Jin, have lived a life of valor! Even if the tiger descends to the flatlands, I will never serve as another's hunting dog!"

Flatterers in the tent immediately praised him, declaring it a good kill.

But others watched in silence, not saying a word.

Years had passed in the blink of an eye, and the situation had devolved to this state. Many strategists in the tent had long since lost faith in their prospects.

To some, submitting to the court's amnesty was the best possible outcome now.

But this latest act shattered all such hopes.

With the envoy beheaded, the Imperial Court would never accept the Jin Army.

Their impending fate was obvious: either surrender to Prince Yu, or die in battle.

That very night, people began to leave.

Nearly half of the dozen or so strategists in the tent vanished.

The grand momentum of the realm no longer lay with Prince Jin. Why waste any more effort?

Faced with this abandonment, Prince Jin's expression remained eerily calm.

He had prepared himself for this long ago.

Compared to the many princes who had risen and fallen, Prince Jin was absolutely the most prominent among them. He was a decisive, valiant lord who made excellent use of capable ministers and generously rewarded talent. The character "Jin" had shone brilliantly in his hands.

Prince Jin had once believed the entire world was within his grasp.

Yet he had never imagined that he was nothing more than a game piece on a board.

"How tragic..."

That night, Prince Jin sat alone in the Pavilion.

He drank through the night.

The moment dawn broke, his body suddenly went rigid. A wisp of a soul flew out from his flesh and vanished without a trace.

And under the morning light, that physical shell gradually decayed, turning to ash and scattering in the wind.

Thus, the once-radiant prince faded away.

Prince Jin's sudden death threw the Jin Army into complete disarray.

Coupled with the defection of his strategists and generals, the faction soon became riddled with holes.

In October of that same year.

After six months of stubborn resistance.

The Jin Army surrendered in Hui'an.

In the end, only a little over ten thousand troops remained, half of whom were old, weak, sick, or disabled.

...

Prince Yu had spent nearly a decade rising from the desolate Border Pass, successfully conquering the territories of Yan and Jin. He had become one of the only two remaining power brokers in the world.

And now, his final arrow was pointed straight at the decaying, rotting Imperial Court.

Yet Yan Nantian, Prince Yu, remained fixated on one lingering thought.

Prince Jin's death was far too bizarre.

He had ordered men to search Prince Jin's quarters and personal writings multiple times, hoping to find some clue.

In the end, they found nothing.

He had even ordered Prince Jin's tomb excavated, but inside lay only a set of clothes. There was no corpse.

According to one of the prince's personal guards, Prince Jin had passed away at dawn that day. It was as if, upon his death, his body rapidly aged through the years until nothing was left, scattering into flying ash.

Such a tale was truly hard to believe.

Yan Nantian pressed his men to keep investigating. He always felt there was more to Prince Jin's end than met the eye.

But before he could uncover anything on that front, movements from the Imperial Court put Yan Nantian on high alert.

The court's grand momentum was gone, yet their reaction was unhurried and unpanicked, as if they were quietly waiting for him to march his army north.

This gave Yan Nantian serious pause.

The world had been locked in endless strife, but it seemed everyone had overlooked the Imperial Court.

Over the past few decades, the Imperial Court rarely intervened directly. Instead, they acted like someone watching tigers fight from a mountaintop, letting the various factions grow strong and perish on their own.

Yan Nantian didn't understand what the Imperial Court was relying on.

But no matter what, his grand army had to march north!

He couldn't delay for another moment!

...

High up in the Imperial Court.

The Sovereign of the Nine-Five sat upon the Dragon Throne.

The person on that Dragon Throne had changed faces, now possessing a handsome, unyielding appearance.

Looking closely, one would know this was not the same little emperor who had once allowed himself to be slaughtered. The face was different; it was an entirely different person.

Over these years, the political landscape within the Imperial Court had undergone an earth-shattering shift.

Li Linfu had died a violent death, and the Empress Dowager who ruled from behind the curtain was found dead in a dry well one night.

The person now sitting in this position was never a royal prince, but rather the heir to the Prince of Yi.

Zhao Lingjun.

This emperor, whose very name carried a strong sense of spiritual energy, was the most unique of them all.

His grandfather, Zhao Hengyuan, was once the younger brother of the Grand Ancestor. For his meritorious service in establishing the dynasty, Zhao Hengyuan was titled the Prince of Yi, a title passed down hereditarily. As the heir, Zhao Lingjun now sat upon the Dragon Throne.

All of this happened because the opportunity had fallen into his lap.

There had been five imperial princes in the Imperial Court, but without exception, in this political vortex, they either died of illness or met violent ends. Amidst the struggle for power and profit, countless people died tragically. This was the war for the throne, and in such chaotic times, no one cared about the rules.

After over a decade of internal strife, the five princes perished. Only one had managed to sire a son who did not die in infancy.

Originally, with the entire Imperial Court under Li Linheng's shadow, no one dared to touch this little emperor. But an accident occurred.

It was precisely Li Linheng's death that gave the Prince of Yi's heir his chance.

As one of the few royal bloodlines among the various princes who had never rebelled or committed treason, he successfully ascended to this position following the little emperor's death. He changed the era name to Zhishun. Today was the third year of Zhishun.

Zhao Lingjun knew perfectly well that under the current circumstances, no human could save the Great Xiang.

But as a Prince of Yi's heir who was once obsessed with Daoist arts...

He knew that in this world, there were things other than humans that could help him!

Just as Prince Jin was losing power, he roped in a massive horde of demons, spirits, ghosts, and monsters. He heavily favored Daoist Wuwei, established Daoist temples, and recruited capable individuals and strange entities from all over.

Thus, in the second year of his reign, a new organization appeared in the world.

—The Immortal-Demon Temple.

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