Beneath the golden canopy of the Fusang Tree, Ling Xiao's eyes snapped open. The solar winds hummed with a vibration that didn't belong to the Sun.
"Bai Ze... Ji Meng..." Ling Xiao whispered. He didn't need a divining rod to know why the future Demon Gods of the Yao Race were at his doorstep. The Great Desolation was a slaughterhouse, and the "fur and horn" tribes were looking for a shield.
I've been this low-key, and they still found me, Ling Xiao thought, a trace of irony in his smile. Was the "Destiny of the Yao" so persistent that it would hunt him down on his own star?
"Bai Ze and Ji Meng? Let's go see what they want," Dijun said, his golden robes already flaring with the heat of his rising aura.
"Wait, Brother," Ling Xiao said, raising a hand. Dijun paused, confused. "Don't walk into their rhythm. They aren't here for a social visit. The world is in chaos, and they've come to sell you a throne that's currently on fire."
He looked at Dijun and Tai Yi. "Go out first. Whatever Bai Ze offers—glory, power, the fate of the world—refuse him. Be blunt. Be stubborn."
"And you?" Tai Yi asked.
"I'll be right behind you," Ling Xiao replied.
The Negotiation on the Solar Edge
Outside the Sun Great Array, Bai Ze and Ji Meng were considering whether to call out a second time when two rainbows of pure solar essence streaked toward them.
"This is..." Bai Ze blinked. He had come for the Three Crows, yet only two stood before him.
The two Golden Crows landed, their golden armor gleaming. They were handsome, upright, and radiated a natural imperial grace, yet they lacked the overwhelming pressure Bai Ze had expected.
"Fellow Daoists," Dijun began, his voice steady. "What business brings you to our star?"
"We have long admired the name of the Three Crows," Bai Ze replied, his voice like a gentle spring breeze. "May I ask which of the brothers I have the honor of addressing?"
"Dijun!" "Tai Yi!"
Bai Ze's fan paused mid-stroke. Rumor had it that the one named Ling Xiao was the most formidable. "And where is Fellow Daoist Ling Xiao?"
"My third brother is in deep meditation," Dijun replied impatiently. "If you have something to say, say it. We don't have time for poetry."
Third brother? Bai Ze's mind raced. The strongest was the youngest? He scanned Dijun and Tai Yi again. They were only in the Middle Stage of the Grand Unity Golden Immortal Realm.
It was a respectable realm, but the rumors had compared them to the Three Pure Ones. The Sanqing were already pushing toward the Late Stage. These two felt... ordinary.
"Fellow Daoists," Bai Ze said, shifting into his persuasive tone. "The world is drowning. The Wu Clan expands without mercy, and the Myriad Races are scattered like dry leaves. The situation is dire."
He spoke for a long time, weaving a tapestry of duty, heroism, and the inevitable rise of a new order. Dijun and Tai Yi listened, and for a moment, the natural "Sovereign Blood" in their veins began to thrum. They felt the itch to lead, to soar, to burn across the Great Desolation.
Then, they remembered Ling Xiao's warning. The itch vanished, replaced by the cool logic of the Sun Star.
"You want us to unify the races and fight the Wu?" Dijun asked flatly.
"Exactly," Bai Ze smiled, sensing he had caught them. "You possess the destiny of Sovereigns. Only you can integrate the Myriad Races."
"We're not interested," Dijun said. "Our strength is average. We aren't capable of such a burden."
Bai Ze's smile faltered. Average? No sovereign in the history of the Honghuang had ever called their own strength "average." It was practically an insult to the ego.
"How can you say that?" Ji Meng asked, unable to help himself. "What is your actual realm?"
"Middle Stage Grand Unity," Tai Yi answered bluntly.
Bai Ze and Ji Meng exchanged a look of sheer bewilderment. Was the myth of the Three Crows just that—a myth? If the two eldest were only at the Middle Stage, surely the youngest was even further behind.
"Fellow Daoist Bai Ze," Tai Yi said, gesturing toward the horizon. "We aren't leaving the Sun Star. Go find someone else."
"But... could we at least meet Fellow Daoist Ling Xiao?" Bai Ze pressed, desperate to see if the third crow held the missing piece of the puzzle.
"Even if I come out, the answer remains the same."
A calm, resonant voice echoed from the solar core. Ling Xiao emerged, walking through the flames as if they were nothing more than light. He wore the Grandmist Sun and Moon Robe, and the untamed spirit between his brows made Bai Ze's breath hitch.
This one... this one was different.
"Fellow Daoists," Ling Xiao said, a faint, knowing smile on his face. "Leave. Don't waste your breath on us. We have no intention of joining your war."
"But Fellow Daoist!" Bai Ze urged, his fan forgotten. "The world is in chaos! This is the time to rise! A golden opportunity like this only comes once in an eon!"