Quinn Shepherd traveled onward, and everywhere he looked was devastation—starving refugees wandering, disasters erupting, plague rampant. Compared to the relatively stable lands under Great Thunderclap Temple, this place was pure hell.
Fortunately, countless academy scholars—both primary and higher—were scattered everywhere, practicing medicine and suppressing the epidemic. Without them, the disaster would be even worse.
The Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire had built countless primary and higher academies to replace the old private schools, and now they proved their worth. Each scholar was individually weak, but together they formed a force as powerful as a small sect.
Quinn saw government soldiers hunting monsters and demons who took advantage of the chaos, county magistrates personally guarding fields and seedlings, persuading refugees to return home, and imperial relief grain soon to arrive.
He also saw Dao Gate and Buddhist disciples helping with disaster relief, though they acted more freely and, compared to the state, their power was limited—helping wherever they happened to be. Some even took the chance to preach, spawning many cults, but none gained real traction.
“A disaster like this can’t destroy a country like this,” Quinn thought to himself.
The new crops were already sown; as long as harvest season came, the people could settle down. The timing of this disaster in the Everpeace Empire was bizarre—it struck right after a nationwide upheaval, when years of war had consumed enormous grain reserves. Now, with this snow disaster, the country’s very foundation was at risk.
“I wonder if the Imperial Preceptor has returned to court, and whether the emperor is still personally directing relief? And where did this disaster come from? This isn’t something Dao Gate or Great Thunderclap Temple could create—only gods can cause calamity on such a scale.”
He looked up at the sky, puzzled—why?
Why would Heaven choose to punish Everpeace?
Is it for the sake of preserving the gods’ dao-lineages in the mortal realm?
Before Everpeace, the world was ruled by countless sects, forming many kingdoms—some with lineages said to be left by gods themselves. So, is it because Everpeace destroyed these god-born sects, angering the gods and bringing down this disaster?
Or is there some deeper reason behind it all?
Quinn found disciples of the Cult of the Heavenly Demon and asked around. The Cult was marching alongside the government relief efforts; nearly all disciples were dispatched across the land, and the Hall Masters had even donated all their halls’ wealth—leaving the sect nearly penniless. Yet some merchants still hoarded goods, and great clans and aristocrats stockpiled grain, refusing to sell.
“The emperor was furious—he executed a batch of them, then uncovered officials who embezzled disaster funds and killed them too, as well as those selling offices and ranks during the famine.”
A Cult disciple who had followed the emperor on relief missions, now worldly and excited, said, “The emperor’s faced repeated assassination attempts—most by Cult Master-level enemies. Luckily, loyal civil and military ministers shielded him, and the emperor fought back himself. He’s terrifyingly strong. It’s a pity our Cult Master didn’t join in.”
Quinn asked, “Who were these assassins targeting the emperor?”
“I heard it was Master Qiong, Lady Tian Zhenjun, and some Beyond-the-Frontier powerhouses.”
Quinn’s expression darkened. “They’ve joined forces with Beyond-the-Frontier Cult Master-level enemies? Has the Imperial Preceptor returned?”
“No one’s seen him.”
Quinn pondered for a moment. “Where is the emperor now?”
“He’s in Baston Prefecture, five thousand li away.”
The Cult disciple explained, “The emperor first went south, purged the great clans who refused to release their grain, then headed north. He’s just arrived in Baston, which is relatively stable.”
Quinn steadied himself. “What about the Imperial Capital? Did they leave any top ministers behind?”
“The Crown Prince is acting as regent, along with his faction’s officials.”
Quinn’s face grew grim. The Crown Prince was supposed to be regent in the capital, yet he’d gone to Great Thunderclap Temple. Master Qiong and Lady Tian Zhenjun had nearly died at the hands of the Imperial Preceptor, but Elder Buddha saved them, claiming they’d entered the Buddhist path and renounced worldly affairs. Now they were back in the fray.
And with the Crown Prince visiting Elder Buddha, things were getting complicated.
“They say the court is the greatest holy land under Heaven. I wonder, if it ever clashes with Great Thunderclap Temple, which will prevail?”
Quinn pondered. “Can you contact the Hall Masters?”
“All the halls are busy with relief work across the land. It’s difficult to reach them—gathering everyone would take a month or two at least.”