The First Human Emperor looked dazed, as if still stunned by the whirlwind of blows Quinn Shepherd had just dealt him. Yet the other Human Emperors understood: what confused him most was why Quinn refused to learn his arts and divine techniques.
His real intention, after all, was to inspire Quinn—push him to unlock more potential, then pass down his own arts and divine techniques.
Was it that he disdained the First Human Emperor’s arts, or did he disdain the man himself?
Maybe both?
The Human Emperors exchanged glances, then all turned to look at the Second Human Emperor—each of them reaching out to jab him in the side.
The Second Human Emperor yelped in pain and, not too willingly, stepped forward. "Old man—pah, you look younger than I do! Master, Human Emperor Quinn has his own pride. If you hadn’t shattered our legacy, smashed up my bones and tombstone, he wouldn’t treat you this way. Stop wallowing in self-pity. If he won’t learn, you can always teach me instead."
The First Human Emperor glanced at him, then shook his head. "I gave you eight hundred years, and you still couldn’t master them. I’ve given up on you. I think Human Emperor Quinn is an Overlord Body—he could learn them in just a few months at most."
Fuming, the Second Human Emperor stormed back. "That’s just humiliating! I’m not going to talk him around—if any of you want to, go ahead! With that kind of temper, he deserves whatever beating he gets!"
The other Human Emperors looked at each other in confusion.
The First Human Emperor strode over, sweeping away his earlier confusion and dejection. "This is Jadebright Heaven Palace, one of the Thirty-Six Heaven Palaces. Though you are all Human Emperors, you’ve only ever visited the outer part—just the Human Emperor Hall. Let me show you the real Jadebright Heaven Palace. Follow me."
The Human Emperors were puzzled. Just a moment ago, he’d seemed lost in grief, and now he wanted to show them Jadebright Heaven Palace. They truly couldn’t guess what the First Human Emperor was thinking.
The First Human Emperor strode over, sweeping away his earlier confusion and dejection. "This is Jadebright Heaven Palace, one of the Thirty-Six Heaven Palaces. Though you are all Human Emperors, you’ve only ever visited the outer part—just the Human Emperor Hall. Let me show you the real Jadebright Heaven Palace. Follow me."
Even flying or running at full speed, the result was always the same: sooner or later, another Human Emperor Hall would appear ahead, as if every direction led them in circles.
The First Human Emperor had hidden Jadebright Heaven Palace for a reason. But now, he was opening it up—why?
At that point, they realized someone had folded the space around the Hall with immense power, hiding its deeper secrets. And that someone could only be the First Human Emperor.
The First Human Emperor had hidden Jadebright Heaven Palace for a reason. But now, he was opening it up—why?
The Second Human Emperor pondered, "Was one of those four Celestial Teachers dressed as a woodcutter? The founding patriarch of the Cult of the Heavenly Saint considered him a sage."
The First Human Emperor nodded. "He was one of them. When the calamity began, he left Jadebright Heaven Palace for the front lines, offering counsel and strategy. Later, Jadebright Palace changed—he thought I’d died. When he learned I hadn’t fought but fled, he never acknowledged me again."
"Jadebright Palace changed?"
The Human Emperors were baffled. The Third Human Emperor asked, "First Ancestor, what happened at Jadebright Heaven Palace?"
The First Human Emperor didn’t answer, leading them onward. Suddenly, the mist parted, and before them appeared a breathtaking cluster of Heaven Palaces. Towers and pavilions rose in neat rows, radiant with spring light.
The buildings shone like beautiful maidens in their prime. Palace corridors curved gracefully; the air was thick with the scent of books. If one listened closely, it seemed you could still hear the sound of students reading aloud.
The Human Emperors were stunned. There seemed to be no sign of war here—not a single trace of divine arts or destruction.
Every palace, tower, and pavilion gleamed, as if newly built and untouched by time.
It was almost impossible.
The Kaihuang Heaven Court had already been destroyed. Outside Jadebright Heaven Palace, you could still see the scars of war—scorched earth and endless graves of fallen gods and demons. How could this place remain untouched?
The First Human Emperor said nothing, leading them forward. They passed a great hall filled with meditation mats. Dozens of young men and women sat inside, heads raised, seemingly listening to a lecture.
The Human Emperors were shaken to the core. These youths looked lifelike, yet it was obvious—they had been dead for countless years!
On the dais stood a scholarly god-demon, one hand raised, a smile on his face as if explaining the mysteries of divine arts to the young people below.
This god-demon was also a corpse, utterly devoid of life.
"How is it that their bodies haven’t decayed?" Human Emperor Qi Kang rasped, asking in a low voice.
No one answered him.
The First Human Emperor continued forward, and the rest hurried to follow.
Along the way, they saw even stranger sights. Around a corner, a little girl with two horn-like braids was frozen mid-run, chasing a mischievous black divine dog. The dog’s eyes sparkled with playfulness; the girl smiled, clapping her hands and calling out.
Yet both the girl and the divine dog were frozen in place, dead in an instant, still caught in the final actions of their lives.
The Human Emperors looked around, growing more and more alarmed.
Not far away stood a scholarly-looking deity, with a young woman before him clutching several scrolls. She gazed up, as if asking her teacher about a difficult problem.
In the courtyard, several youths were cultivating divine arts. Two of them sparred, bodies agile, hands forming seals as they unleashed a technique. Nearby, others watched with smiles, whispering and debating who was stronger.
The Human Emperors tore their eyes away, suppressing their shock and following the First Ancestor.
The more they saw, the more disturbed they became. Time here seemed utterly frozen—no sound, everyone locked in the final moment of their lives.
Silence.
An overwhelming, deathly silence.
So suffocating it was hard to breathe!
"Those who studied at Jadebright Heaven Palace were the brightest talents of the Heaven Court’s younger generation. But when disaster struck, the entire future of the Kaihuang era was wiped out in one stroke."
The First Human Emperor spoke woodenly, "The attack used a Youdu divine art—one strike erased the future of the Kaihuang era. I barely escaped, didn’t dare look back, and fled in panic. I once thought my dao-heart was strong enough that nothing could make me afraid. But seeing so many friends, so many young people and god-demons dead, I collapsed in an instant…"
The Human Emperors fell silent. Faced with a disaster like this, it was hard not to break.
"I ran away—lost, terrified, like a stray dog."
The First Human Emperor’s voice was bitter: "I met the Heaven Court’s rescue army, but I was utterly afraid. I didn’t join them—I kept running until I realized I had nowhere left to go. So I turned back, and then…"
His face twisted with pain, breathing raggedly. "Then I saw the corpses of my comrades. I should have fought and died alongside them here, but I ran. I survived, and they were buried here forever…"
His shoulders shook twice; he swallowed his tears and spoke dully: "I lingered here, lost all will to live, wanting to die with them. But then I saw countless refugees—various races, with divine-ability users escorting masses of mortals. So I sheltered them, protected them, and searched for a place where they could survive and multiply."
"After a long search, I found the place where the Heaven Court had fallen. They were grateful and honored me as Human Emperor. These ragged, desperate people forged a Human Emperor Seal from their last treasures, vowing that their descendants would never betray this charge. But they didn’t know—I wasn’t the hero they wanted. I was just a terrified deserter!"
He laughed self-mockingly and shook his head. "Circumstances made me a hero. I didn’t want it—I didn’t want to be Human Emperor. But they forced me into the role."
The Second Human Emperor said, "Later, when you took me as a disciple and tossed me the Human Emperor Seal—was it because you felt unworthy of it?"
The First Human Emperor nodded.
He stopped before a building and gazed up at its nine stories, speaking softly: "This is Jadebright Pavilion. Inside are the arts and divine techniques of the Kaihuang era, far superior to those of Taeming Heaven. You can go in—learn whatever you wish."
He sat on the stone steps before Jadebright Pavilion, desolate and melancholy, looking at the people outside—faces he still recognized even after twenty thousand years, though they’d died long ago yet seemed still alive.
But the Second Human Emperor and the others didn’t enter Jadebright Pavilion. Instead, they watched him.
Suddenly, the Second Human Emperor’s voice turned hoarse. "Master, since you had higher and better arts, why didn’t you teach them to me? Why not to the world? Did you think those you saved were just mortals, just lowborn, unworthy of these arts?"
He couldn’t help but raise his voice, sneering. "Sure, you’re the Human Emperor, honored by all races. We’re just the lowly mortals you rescued, not noble like your bloodline. You’re a prince, high above us—we’re not worthy of your arts! If you wanted to teach them, why didn’t you do it twenty thousand years ago?"
Unable to suppress his bitterness, he cried out, "Do you know? After you left, I stood alone against the heavens. I fought for my life, nearly died so many times, but I held on because of that broken seal you gave me. I believed I was Human Emperor—I had to do something for our people! Why didn’t you teach me? Why wouldn’t you teach me?"
The First Human Emperor was wooden, silent.
The Second Human Emperor pointed at the generations of Human Emperors behind him, his voice harsh. "Them—they inherited your broken seal too. For the ideals you sneered at, they fought and bled their whole lives! Many never married, had no children, no descendants, because they feared the Human Emperor title would bring disaster to their families, or that love would distract them from their duty! And you? You hid for a lifetime—for twenty thousand years. You betrayed us!"
The First Human Emperor trembled, shaking his head. "I couldn’t teach you. After the Kaihuang era, so few of us were left. If I taught you, if you became a threat, you’d be wiped out."
He raised his head, eyes brimming with tears. "If I taught you, I’d only be harming you. I couldn’t…"
The Second Human Emperor fell silent for a long time, then said bitterly, "But now we’re dead—nothing left but our Primordial Spirits. What use is it to teach us now?"
The First Human Emperor buried his face in his elbow, voice hoarse. "There are many bodies in Jadebright Heaven Palace—their deaths came so swiftly their flesh was preserved. You… you can each seize a body and be reborn. Human Emperor Quinn needs you—only then does he truly deserve the title. Go! Go! Don’t let me see you again!"
The Second Human Emperor and the others stood stunned. Then, suddenly, the Second fell to his knees. "Teacher!"
The other Human Emperors all knelt as well. When they looked up, the First Human Emperor had covered his face and gone.
"Will the First Ancestor return?" Yi Shan asked quietly.
The Second Human Emperor, heavy-hearted, replied, "Maybe he saw hope in Human Emperor Quinn, but he can’t bear to see us reborn in the bodies of his old friends. I don’t know if he’ll return. If he does, seeing our new faces may only remind him of those he lost…"