Di Jun's refusal echoed through the rafters of Zixiao Palace like a physical strike.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, and punctuated by the wide-eyed stares of three thousand immortals. They looked at the two Golden Crows as if they had suddenly grown second heads. How could they refuse? The position of the Lord of the Heavenly Court was the ultimate prize—the mandate of a Saint to rule all creation.
"Have their brains been incinerated by their own solar fire?" one expert whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.
After the initial shock, a wave of schadenfreude swept the room. The Three Pure Ones allowed themselves small, superior smiles. Jieyin and Zhunti were nearly vibrating with joy; they had been terrified that the Crows would gain the institutional power to hunt them down. Seeing the Crows throw away the scepter was a gift they hadn't dared to hope for.
Kunpeng, meanwhile, was nearly breathless with anticipation. His fingers drummed against his knees. The Crows are fools, he thought. If they won't take it, it has to be me. We're all feathered kind—I'm the only one left with the wings to carry this burden.
Hongjun's face remained a mask of divine neutrality, but a subtle shadow crossed his eyes. He hadn't expected the "People of Destiny" to be so utterly devoid of ambition. He had offered them the world, and they had claimed they were "too lazy" to accept.
Perhaps the time is not yet right, the Saint mused, calculating the shifting gears of the Heavenly Secret. They are still immature. I will wait for the third sermon to force the crown upon them.
He waved his hand, dismissing their rejection with a flick of his wrist.
Before the Saint could speak again, Kunpeng lunged forward. He abandoned all pretense of dignity, his voice ringing with a desperate, self-important fervor.
"Saint! This disciple is willing! I will take up the mantle! I will stabilize the primordial order and maintain the peace of heaven and earth!"
The hall went cold. The other experts turned to Kunpeng with looks of pure loathing. Shameless feathered beast, Yuanshi thought, his lip curling. Kunpeng remained bowed, his forehead nearly touching the floor, his heart a frantic drum of hope and terror. He had been impulsive, yes, but he couldn't let the chance slip by.
Hongjun looked down at Kunpeng, his gaze deep and unreadable. "The matter of the Heavenly Court will be discussed at a later date," the Saint said, his voice as final as a closing tomb. "For now, I have another decree."
Kunpeng slumped back into his seat, his face burning. The mocking whispers of the other immortals stung like needles. He had exposed his greed, lost his face, and gained nothing. He shot a look of pure, concentrated venom at Di Jun and Tai Yi. If they hadn't refused, I wouldn't have been forced to beg, he reasoned. What do they have that I don't? Why does the Saint look to them first?
Hongjun's gaze swept the room once more, quelling the murmurs.
"The order of the world must still be maintained," the Saint continued. "Therefore, I shall select two individuals to act on my behalf. One shall lead the male immortals; one shall lead the female."
The experts sat up straight, their chests puffing out, their auras flaring with "immortal demeanor." If the Heavenly Court was off the table, the title of Head of the Immortals was the next best thing. It was a license to roam the Great Desolation with the Saint's protection.
"Queen Mother of the West," Hongjun spoke, his voice settling on a woman dressed in a gown of shimmering white silk. "You were formed from the first trace of Yin Essence. You shall be the Head of the Female Immortals."
The Queen Mother rose, her graceful features lit with a mix of shock and delight.
"I bestow upon you the Western Plain Cloud Brocade Banner," Hongjun said, pointing a finger. A small, snow-white flag manifested before her, radiating profound, stabilizing fluctuations. "Use this supreme-grade innate treasure to maintain the order of the sisters of the world."
"I obey the Saint's decree!" she replied, accepting the banner with trembling hands.
The room was filled with the sound of grinding teeth. A Supreme-Grade Innate Spirit Treasure! Every expert in the room was now starving for the final position. The male immortals leaned forward, their eyes wild with hunger, as the Saint's gaze began to roam for the Head of the Male Immortals.