At the eye of the storm sweeping through the Mortal Emperor World, Ling himself spent his time drinking tea, spending quality time with his women, and quietly reinforcing the foundations of the people and sects he had decided were "his."
The world called it scheming and rearranging the chessboard.
He called it housekeeping.
On an afternoon when the academy sky was unusually clear—blue like newly polished jade, clouds drifting lazily over the Everlasting Tree's crown—he gathered them all.
Xu Pei.
Chen Baojiao.
Li Shangyuan.
Bai Jianzhen.
Chi Xiaodie.
Bing Yuxia.
They met in a secluded pavilion slightly off the Everlasting Courtyard's main path, a place where the breeze carried the scent of old wood and distant flowers. The stone tiles were warm from the sun; ancient trees cast dappled shadows that swayed like slow breathing. The sounds of the academy—disciples training, elders lecturing, proud geniuses arguing over some obscure Dao—were distant, softened to a murmur by the arrays hidden in the eaves.
Ling Feng leaned against a pillar, arms folded, watching them arrive one by one.
Xu Pei came first, as always. The scholarly beauty walked with quiet composure, her jade-like fingers still faintly stained with medicinal herbs. She stood to his right, posture straight, eyes soft, as if simply being in this courtyard let her exhale a breath she'd been holding all day.
Chen Baojiao arrived with the lazy confidence of a princess used to owning every room she walked into. She took the seat with the best view without asking, propped her chin on her hand, and regarded him with fox-like eyes that gleamed with mischief and battle intent in equal measure.
Li Shangyuan sat neatly, knees together, hands folded on her lap. Her composure was perfect, save for the subtle curve at the corner of her lips whenever Ling Feng's gaze brushed past her.
Bai Jianzhen did not sit.
The Prime Descendant of the Divine Sword Sacred Ground remained standing, sword on her back, white robes falling straight as a blade. Her expression was tranquil, but her gaze was sharp, attentive, tracking every breath, every minute shift of the winds of Dao.
Chi Xiaodie stopped at the threshold for half a heartbeat, chin lifted that fraction too high that betrayed nerves beneath royal pride. The Lion's Roar banner embroidered on her sleeve fluttered in the wind, her blood stirring with the roar of distant battlefields only she could hear.
Bing Yuxia, Ice Feather Palace's proud genius, arrived last—pretending not to hurry, fan already raised, aura cool enough to frost the pavilion beams… if one ignored the faint quickness in her steps.
Ling Feng let his gaze travel over them, lips quirking.
"Not bad," he drawled. "The lineup's getting more and more impressive. If I line you up in a row, half the Mortal Emperor World is going to start praying to romance gods."
"Stop talking nonsense," Chen Baojiao said, but the corners of her mouth twitched.
Xu Pei's ears reddened. Chi Xiaodie tried very hard not to fidget with her sleeve. Bing Yuxia's fan stuttered for a beat.
He clapped his hands once.
"Alright," he said. "Business."
Six pairs of eyes focused on him.
"You all remember that 'vacation' I mentioned," he began.
Xu Pei's cheeks colored. Li Shangyuan's eyes brightened ever so slightly, as if remembering the quiet promise hidden in that word. Chi Xiaodie's fingers clenched, Lion's Roar blood boiling at the thought of unknown battlefields. Bing Yuxia's fan paused mid-wave, the cool beauty clearly already regretting agreeing to whatever madness he had planned.
"Well," he continued, "it's time to actually go."
"Where?" Bai Jianzhen asked, getting straight to the point. Her gaze never wavered; in her world, "vacation" and "sword training" were the same thing.
He smiled.
"The Sacred Nether World," he said.
Silence.
The name dropped into the pavilion like a slab of cold iron.
Sacred Nether World.
The ancestral home of the Ghost Immortal Race.
One of the Nine Worlds—where the dead walked like the living, and sects were built atop cemeteries of eras.
"Sacred Nether World…" Li Shangyuan murmured, eyes widening. "That is not a simple 'vacation spot'…"
"Of course not," Ling Feng said cheerfully. "If we're going to travel, we might as well pick somewhere interesting. Why go to a scenic mountain when we can go to an entire world built on pretty graves?"
Chen Baojiao's brows rose. "Interesting, he says. That place is full of ghost lineages and old monsters hiding in the dark. Many famous figures went there and never came back. Their names were erased from history."
"All the more reason I should go," he replied. "Besides, I happen to have business there."
"What business?" Bing Yuxia demanded, fan snapping shut with a crisp sound.
He smiled mysteriously. "Secrets."
She bristled. "You—"
Xu Pei bit her lip. "Is it… safe?" she asked quietly. In her mind, she saw flickering lanterns, endless rivers of fog, ghostly hands reaching out of the dark.
He gave her a faint, reassuring smile.
"For us?" he said. "It's pretty much safe. There's one troublesome place that I have some plans for, but everywhere else…"
He snapped his fingers lazily.
"We can walk like it's our front yard."
His eyes swept over them, gaze turning sharper for a moment.
"But more importantly, it's a good place for all of you to temper your Daos. The so-called Heaven's Will candidates over there will make excellent whetstones. Might as well use other people's Heavenly Fate to sharpen my wives."
Chi Xiaodie frowned. "But… Lion's Roar…"
Duty pressed on her shoulders—the ancestral temple, her father, the expectations of an entire country that looked to the Chi Clan to stand tall at Sky Border's south.
Ling Feng looked at her.
"About that," he said. "I'm going to make some arrangements."
She blinked. "Arrangements?"
He nodded. "I'll talk to the academy's elders and old ancestors. Have them formally back Lion's Roar and Bao Yun Clan. With Heavenly Dao Academy standing behind you, I'm sure they won't mind 'losing' their princess for a bit."
Chi Xiaodie's heart jumped.
"Truly?"
Ling Feng's lips curved, warm and sure. "I never go back on my words."
Her eyes filled with complicated emotion—relief, gratitude, a fierce, aching pride.
"The country will be fine for a while," Ling Feng went on, tone turning light again. "Lion's Roar's prestige is high now. Furious Immortal Saint Country's tail is between its legs. Tiger Howl already vanished from history. And…"
He shrugged.
"I left a few surprises in your ancestral temple."
"Surprises?" she echoed, startled.
He grinned. "You'll see when you get back. Think of it as a hidden layer of protection I painted under your country while no one was looking. If something dares to roar at Lion's Roar, it'll bite its own tongue first."
Her chest ached.
"…Thank you," she said softly. The words were small, but they carried the weight of a princess, a cultivator, and a woman.
He waved it off. "Don't make it sound like I did something big. I'm just protecting my wife's country."
Wife.
Chi Xiaodie's ears turned red. Bing Yuxia huffed behind her fan.
"Sacred Nether World…" Bai Jianzhen repeated, eyes gleaming faintly. Sword intent rippled around her like a barely sheathed blade. "I have always wanted to test my sword against the Ghost Tribes' Dao. There are legends of blade masters there whose swords still sing even in death."
Li Shangyuan's gaze steadied, all hesitation dropping away. "If Young Noble is going," she said simply, "this one will accompany him."
Xu Pei drew a breath, then nodded once, gentle eyes firm. "Me too."
Chen Baojiao rolled her eyes. "As if this princess would stay behind while you all go have fun. I want to see what kind of 'ghost immortal geniuses' dare act arrogant in front of my hammer. If they squeal too loud, I'll smash their graves as well."
Bing Yuxia hesitated.
Ling Feng watched her, saying nothing.
Her fan lowered slowly, revealing a face that would have frozen lakes if not for the faint flush at the tips of her ears.
"…Ice Feather Palace will not collapse without me for a short time," she said finally. "The Heaven Cutting Tablet is quieter after your… adjustments. And…"
She glanced away.
"…if I don't go, you'll just go cause trouble there without anyone sensible around to watch you."
He laughed.
"So you're coming to chaperone me?"
She sniffed. "Someone has to. Otherwise, you'll turn the Sacred Nether World upside down and then complain you didn't see enough scenery."
He spread his hands.
"Then it's decided," he said. "Shangyuan, Baojiao, Pei-Pei, Jianzhen, Xiaodie, Yuxia… all on board. I'm very satisfied with this tour group."
He pushed away from the pillar, moving to the center of the pavilion.
"In the next few days," he said, tone turning brisk, "I'll finalize the path. The broken routes between Mortal Emperor World and Sacred Nether are nightmares for anyone else, but with Space and Time under my control, I can force open a stable channel."
His fingers tapped his chest lightly, where emerald light pulsed in his Inner Void—Chaos condensed into pristine facets.
"I'll also coordinate with Cleansing Incense and Lion's Roar. Make sure no half-witted ancestor thinks this is a good time to poke them just because I'm 'travelling.'"
His gaze rose, as if he could see through the academy's skies into distant realms.
"If they're smart," Ling Feng said calmly, "they'll take this time to keep their heads down."
He smiled again, lighter, hands clasped behind his back.
"As for you girls, finish whatever academy matters you need to handle," he added. "Say your goodbyes, write letters, rob the Everlasting Courtyard's library for anything you want to read on the road."
Chen Baojiao snorted. "You're seriously treating a trip to Sacred Nether like going on a picnic."
"Why not?" he asked. "We'll have good food, good wine, good scenery, and plenty of enemies to bully. Sounds like a picnic to me. Just with more corpses."
Xu Pei's lips curved despite her worry. Li Shangyuan shook her head helplessly, eyes warm. Bai Jianzhen's fingers tightened very slightly around her sword hilt, a dangerous anticipation sparking in her Dao Heart. Chi Xiaodie's blood stirred, already imagining banners fluttering beneath strange skies. Bing Yuxia's heart beat too fast—but she did not look away.
Whatever land he stepped into, everything changed.
If he was going to step into the ancestral home of the Ghost Immortals, the Nine Worlds would feel the tremor.
...
Heavenly Dao Academy, beneath the Everlasting Tree's shadow.
On a stone platform carved before the giant trunk, Old Daoist Peng and several Ancient Ancestors sat in silence. Behind them, faint images of Heaven's Wills and ancient Daos intertwined, forming an illusory sea that could drown kingdoms. Each wave in that sea was a suppressed merit law; each current, the accumulated wisdom of endless eras.
Ling Feng stood alone at the edge of that sea, hands in his sleeves, posture loose and almost lazy—like someone who had wandered into the wrong meeting.
"…So," he said lazily, "I'll say it once."
His gaze swept the gathered old monsters. His eyes were calm, dark, and carried no particular politeness.
"Heavenly Dao Academy will formally support Lion's Roar Country and the Bao Yun Clan going forward," he said. "Not the kind of support where you send a few nice words and a fruit basket. Real support. If they need experts, send them. If they need resources, ship them. If someone wants to bully them, treat it like someone slapped your own face."
Chi Clan's Lion's Roar Country—descendants of Hundred Battles Godking, ruler of Sky Border's South—had already become that region's pillar. Bao Yun Clan, jewel of the Hundred Cities, was now tied to Lion's Roar through Bao Yun herself and Chi Xiaodao.
In another era, Heavenly Dao Academy would have remained aloof, "impartial" while smaller lineages bled to death.
This era had Ling Feng.
"Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect as well," he added. "Treat them as a long-term friend. Put them on the same level as an Ancient Kingdom in your internal ledgers. If an Elder here feels too proud to accept that…" He tilted his head. "Retire early. Go plant vegetables. Don't stand in the doorway while the house is being renovated."
Several Ancestors' eyelids twitched.
They had once viewed Cleansing Incense as a fading Dao lineage barely surviving off Immortal Emperor Min Ren's shadow—a sect people mentioned with sighs of regret, not respect. Now, after two True Gods from Ancient Kingdoms had died in the space of a single breath, no one dared call it "fading" aloud.
Old Daoist Peng's beard trembled as he coughed softly.
"Young Friend Ling," he said, voice steady but eyes grave, "the academy has always assisted the human race. These arrangements are… not excessive. But if you wish to anchor such ties, there are rules, procedures—"
Ling Feng waved a hand.
"I'm not here to write policy," he said. "You seniors can argue over the wording until your beards fall off. Just understand one thing."
He looked around again.
The air grew heavier.
It wasn't spiritual energy swelling; it was a foreign pressure. A strange, alien weight descended from above and below, as if the heavens and the earth had shifted half a step closer together.
"I'm asking," Ling Feng said, voice still mild, "because I respect this place. Heavenly Dao Academy has been holding up the sky for the human race for how many eras now? War God Temple too. You've got heritage, vision, all that."
He smiled—but there was no warmth in it.
"But if some stubborn fossil decides to treat Lion's Roar, Bao Yun Clan, or Cleansing Incense as stepping stones again, I won't have a meeting about it."
His voice dropped, soft and casual.
"I'll just erase them. Completely. Roots included."
The words weren't loud.
Yet every peak of Heavenly Dao Academy, every hidden chamber where elders watched through secret mirrors, seemed to echo with that light tone. Dao Hearts that had weathered countless storms quivered, reminded that the youth before them had already turned True Gods into stains on the ground.
Old Daoist Peng didn't argue.
He had seen what this relaxed, strange-tongued youth could do when he stopped smiling.
"…This old man understands," he said finally.
The other Ancestors, one by one, inclined their heads.
Ling Feng nodded as if they'd just agreed on who was buying dinner.
"Good," he said. "Then I'll do my part."
...
Heavenly Dao Academy.
Lion's Roar Country.
Bao Yun Clan.
Three distant places in the Mortal Emperor World.
Above each, the void trembled.
High above the Everlasting Courtyard, Ling Feng floated alone in the sky, high enough that mortal eyes could not see him, low enough that the veins of the earth thrummed clearly beneath his feet.
Within his Inner Void, emerald light revolved slowly. Among them, a deep, amethyst glow pulsed faintly—the Soul Chaos Emerald. Threads of causality stretched from it like invisible chains toward the people and places he considered "his."
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's draw some lines."
He lifted his hand.
A thin strand of Chaos-infused Dao light shot downward, sinking into the Everlasting Courtyard's earth vein, then split into countless runes. They wove through tombs, libraries, lecture halls, and the ancient perimeter of the Wise Sages, merging with existing formations instead of tearing them apart.
He had no interest in disrespecting a heritage that had stood since the Desolate Era.
He just added something new.
A ring of light expanded, subtle and invisible to ordinary eyes. But every Named Hero and Royal Noble within the academy stiffened mid-meditation.
For a moment, the Dao around the academy… shifted.
It felt as if some vast, unfathomable eye had opened in the depths of the earth and then closed again—leaving behind a warning in their bones.
In Lion's Roar Country, Chi Jinlin—seated on the imperial throne, reviewing petitions—jerked. A strange heat, not his own, flared in his blood. The Chi Clan's Ancestral Divine Temple hummed, ancient stone lions waking briefly as a foreign will brushed past them like a passing storm.
In Bao Yun Clan's city, beneath their treasure pavilion, a slumbering protective formation stirred. For generations, it had been considered "good but not extraordinary"—the work of ancestors who had never stepped into Virtuous Paragon. Now, runes Bao Yun's current elders had never seen before lit up one by one, rearranging subtly, like an old general straightening his armor after a long sleep.
Ling Feng's voice echoed through all three lands, not in sound, but in Dao.
"If something on the level of a Virtuous Paragon dares to cause trouble," he said lazily, "this Will will answer once."
In each place, a phantom silhouette sat cross-legged in the void—a simple-robed youth with his hands in his sleeves, hair loose, aura calm.
No conscious clones. No remote projections he needed to control.
These were condensed strikes—Legendary Godking–level manifestations of killing intent anchored into space, time, and the earth veins themselves. When triggered, they would not negotiate. They would not speak.
They would simply descend and crush.
Deep under Furious Immortal Saint Country, an old Virtuous Paragon who had once practiced the Lower Tyrannical Immortal Physique shuddered in his seclusion, feeling a chill run down his spine for no apparent reason. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness of his closed chamber, heart pounding.
Somewhere, something had just changed in the Mortal Emperor World.
Up in the sky above the academy, Ling Feng exhaled slowly as the last rune locked into place.
"That covers the basics," he muttered. "Academy, Lion's Roar, Bao Yun… safe enough for now."
He turned, intent on tearing open space toward Cleansing Incense's mountains, when something else brushed against him.
An aura.
It did not descend like a knife.
It did not roar or try to crush him.
It simply… appeared.
Soft as spring rain falling on old stone. Deep as an endless sea.
If Godkings were towering divine trees piercing the clouds, then this presence was the soil beneath all trees—the ground that had watched countless epochs rise and fall, unshaken.
Ling Feng's lips curved.
"Finally can't hold back anymore, huh?" he murmured.
He let the aura touch him.
Most cultivators—even apex Virtuous Paragons—would have instinctively raised all their defenses at such a thing. An Eternal Physique at Grand Completion could crush Dao Hearts just by existing.
Ling Feng didn't.
He let it wash over him like drizzle.
Then he stepped.
Space warped. Chaos Drift activated; time stretched around his body like pulled sugar. To the outside world, he vanished between one breath and the next.
When he reappeared, he was standing in front of a quiet courtyard.
The Everlasting Courtyard.
Now, the air was different.
Old trees grew with a peculiar rhythm, their rings layered with time itself. Stone benches and wooden pavilions carried the faint, lingering aura of Eternal Physique cultivation. Every tile, every leaf, had been polished by endless, patient years.
One woman sat inside.
She wore simple robes, hair coiled up in a style that would not draw a second glance in any mortal city. Her face was strangely ordinary yet beautiful, not the kind that screamed for notice; rather, it was beauty tempered by too much time—serene, distant, almost detached.
Her eyes, half-lidded as she looked into her teacup, were calm as an undisturbed lake.
Yet the physique beneath that robe—if unleashed—could shake eras.
Grand Completion Eternal Physique.
Magu.
She lifted her gaze the moment Ling Feng stepped through the courtyard gate.
For an instant, time seemed to slow.
The Eternal Physique that had walked through storms no record fully captured sensed something… foreign. Not a Heaven's Will. Not an Immortal Emperor's Dao.
Something that did not belong to this world at all, yet sat within it as if it had always been there.
"You came," she said.
Her voice was gentle, carrying no overt pressure, but space itself quieted to listen.
Ling Feng strolled forward like he had just bumped into a neighbor at a street stall.
"No 'junior this, senior that'?" he teased lightly. "You finally decided to knock, so I figured I'd be polite and save you the trouble of calling again."
A faint flicker passed through Magu's eyes.
She had expected caution. Wariness. Perhaps even obsequious respect—the usual reaction of those who understood what the master of the Everlasting Courtyard truly was.
Instead, this man… smiled at her as if they were equals.
Or as if he were already used to looking up at beings beyond Heaven's Will.
"You recognized me," she said slowly. "Even under the academy's disguise."
Ling Feng laughed softly.
"Hard not to," he replied. "There's only one person in this world who pushed an Eternal Physique to Grand Completion and then decided to hide in a school instead of ruling everything. Time, courtyard, Eternal aura—kind of a giveaway."
Magu's fingers stilled on her cup.
"…You have seen much," she murmured.
"And you've seen more," he countered easily. "Which is why you wanted to talk."
He pulled out a chair without asking and sat down opposite her.
No formation rejected him. No killing intent stirred.
That alone was answer enough.
For a few breaths, they simply shared the quiet.
Tea steam rose in thin, wavering lines. Ancient trees rustled softly in the courtyard. Far away, the academy buzzed with the noise of countless cultivators pursuing countless Daos.