The temple was silent.
"The Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire arrives with overwhelming force. Of the eight Pillars of State, four are here, plus the Champion and Huaihua Generals, and State Duke Wei. There are also several top ministers among them—this is a formidable front. If we go head-to-head, we'll be crushed."
Grand Justice Ma Lianshan said, "Forgive my bluntness, but in Jianghu duels, sects always win; on the battlefield, Everpeace has the edge. So why attack their strengths with our weaknesses? Why not strike with our strengths against theirs?"
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Palace Master Delia of Leaving-Love Palace suddenly said, "This reminds me of a battle over two hundred years ago. Back then, the Battle Skill School was full of powerful masters, blooming everywhere, able to contend with the Sword-Control and Spell-Art schools. The Battle Skill School and Sword-Control School fought endlessly, as did the Battle Skill School and Spell-Art School—so wild and arrogant. But now, look at the Battle Skill School—how many experts remain? Where did they go?"
Everyone fell silent.
Most of the Battle Skill School's masters died in a formal challenge—against the Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire.
Since then, the Battle Skill School never recovered. In recent years, its remnants have merged with other schools—few now practice pure Battle Skills.
In that challenge, the Battle Skill School was crippled by the Imperial Preceptor alone.
Palace Master Delia said calmly, "How similar that time was to now! Back then, the Battle Skill School thought itself unrivaled, certain it would crush the Sword-Control School in that challenge. Many masters went to the capital to challenge the Imperial Preceptor. And then?"
She looked around the room. "If we face the Imperial Preceptor of the Everpeace Empire by Jianghu rules, will our fate be the same as theirs?"
The bronze-masked man was silent for a moment. "Palace Master Qiu, what is your advice?"
Palace Master Delia raised her hand. "The Imperial Preceptor expects us to fight by Jianghu rules—so we do the opposite. We set the meeting place, and when he arrives, we swarm him and finish him off!"
She sliced her palm through the air, voice cold: "Everpeace rose from a tiny state to what it is now, and most of that credit belongs to the Imperial Preceptor. He's become a legend, revered by officials and ministers. If he wanted to rebel, one word from him and the emperor would have to abdicate—or face annihilation. If the Imperial Preceptor dies, Everpeace will be leaderless and much easier to deal with. So we must use any means necessary, not Jianghu etiquette."
"Well... Palace Master Qiu is right."
The sect masters present at Luoguang Temple all voiced their approval. Only a few felt uneasy about breaking Jianghu rules, but none spoke up against it.
To besiege the Imperial Preceptor is different from when the Three Elders ambushed him. Back then, he was surrounded by thousands of troops and powerful allies, so their attack didn't truly break Jianghu rules.
But this time, they're openly tearing up Jianghu rules and trampling them underfoot.
"Once this is done, with the rules broken, the consequences will last for generations."
Master Dalton secretly shook his head. "They're bringing the court's ruthless methods into Jianghu. The old Jianghu may never return."
In Yun City, Quinn Shepherd repeated his routine and 'treated' the Imperial Preceptor again. In Mountain City, another 'treatment.' The armies advanced together, reaching the outskirts of Southreach, sweeping through city after city—unstoppable.
The south was full of mountains and rivers, but without the Yong River as a natural barrier, nothing could stop Everpeace's armies.
Quinn summoned the Nethervault Demon King and broke through Heaven-Wave City, a key fortress atop the river cliffs—truly a great service to Everpeace. But that was a merit he could not claim.
On the fifth day, Quinn and his party arrived in Yue City—already conquered.
As they entered the city, a ragged old beggar with a patched robe and broken bowl hobbled over on a cane. Elias Yun fumbled for spare change; Lina the Spirit Fox handed him a Dafeng coin, which Elias thanked her for and dropped into the beggar's bowl.
The old beggar rattled his bowl, grinning. "Such generous souls! May you have many sons and daughters, great fortune and honor. Imperial Preceptor, please come to Southreach for a gathering. Second Street, Southreach City—the heroes of the realm await you!"
The Imperial Preceptor glanced at him. "Why not wait a few more days? If I wait, my armies will reach Darlyn, and I can meet your so-called heroes there—throw their corpses into the South Sea for the fish, no need to bury them. Wouldn't that be satisfying?"
The old beggar laughed heartily. Seven gates opened within him, each ringing out—his aura soared, thick and mighty, like a lofty god looking down on all beings. He seemed less a beggar surviving on charity, more a deity dispensing alms and demanding worship!
"Imperial Preceptor, your boldness never changes. We'll await you in Southreach City!"
He was about to leave when a voice called out, "Wait."
The old beggar stopped, turning back to Quinn Shepherd with a puzzled look.
Quinn's expression was utterly calm as a still pond. He said softly, "Lina, take the coin back. He’s got far more money than we do."
Lina the Spirit Fox quickly stepped forward and fished the Dafeng coin out of the broken bowl. The old beggar snapped, "You have the nerve to take back money you gave a beggar? Not even fit to be my eighth-generation descendant! Not fit!"
"Filthy beggar, cursing people now!"
Lina turned and asked, "Quinn, what does 'not fit to be his eighth-generation descendant' mean?"
Quinn explained, "The eighth-generation descendant is called 'reng.' He means you aren’t even qualified to be his eighth-generation grandchild."
"He really is cursing!"
Furious, Lina spat in the old beggar’s face. He didn’t dodge, just chuckled, "Little fox, you’ve provoked a beggar—now you’re doomed." With that, he stomped the ground and vanished into the air.
Lina spat again, "Cheating me out of my money and cursing me too—not fit to be his descendant!"
The Imperial Preceptor said, "You should be careful. That was Qi Dayou, sect master of the Beggar Sect. The Beggar Sect is stingy and skilled in foul arts—if you refuse them alms, they’ll curse your shop, ruin your business, or even kidnap and sell your children. The Cult of the Heavenly Demon has an internal Beggar Hall; they’ve clashed bloodily with the Beggar Sect before. Our Beggar Hall mostly just begs and rarely does evil, but we’re often framed for Beggar Sect crimes."
(Irrelevant system message omitted.)
Quinn blinked and smiled, "Imperial Preceptor, we’re close enough to Southreach now. I think it’s time we returned to the Imperial Academy."
The Imperial Preceptor’s face was expressionless. "No. You must come with me to Southreach."
Quinn’s head throbbed. Once everyone settled in, he slipped out alone to a gambling house in Yue City, found the proprietor, and ordered, "Send my command—summon all Three Hundred and Sixty Hall Masters with their teleportation flags at once…"
"Hold on!"
A voice called out behind Quinn—Serena Yunxiang. He turned to see her approach, her former shyness vanished. Coldly, she said, "Cult Master, if you do this, you’ll drag the Holy Cult into danger. If anything happens to us, who will take responsibility?"
Quinn turned to face her, calm as ever. "Saintess, I am the Cult Master."
Serena smiled sweetly. "Saintess Serena Yunxiang greets the Cult Master."
Her face turned cold. "If the Holy Cult helps the Imperial Preceptor and he wins or loses, our reputation will be ruined in Jianghu. We’ll be mocked and hated by every sect, left with nowhere to stand!"
Quinn shook his head. "The Holy Cult is already the Cult of the Heavenly Demon—what reputation do we have? No one will ever give us a place; we have to seize it ourselves. This war is a rare chance. If we don’t get involved, we truly won’t have any standing left."
Serena pressed, "If the Imperial Preceptor unifies the sects and then turns on our Holy Cult, can you bear the consequences?"
Quinn glanced at her. "I’ll bear it."
Serena’s expression shifted, then she gave a faint smile. "You’re the Cult Master, so it’s your decision. But if you’re wrong and drag us into disaster, the Saintess might have to kill you—just like the last Cult Master."
Quinn frowned. The seat of Cult Master in the Cult of the Heavenly Demon really was dangerous—one misstep and you could be beaten to death for failing in virtue.
Serena said shyly, "The last Cult Master died of lechery, and this one was beaten to death by the Saintess. Neither left a good reputation."
Quinn shook his head and waved, "Saintess, you may withdraw. Send my command—summon all Three Hundred and Sixty Hall Masters at once with their teleportation flags! And bring two Protector Envoys!"
The gambling house boss bowed. "As you command, Cult Master!"
Quinn left the gambling house. Serena waited outside, and as he emerged, she chuckled quietly, "Beaten to death…"
Quinn glared at her, then strode forward. "Are you coming or not?"
Serena hurried after him, her eyes spinning with schemes. "Shouldn’t the Cult Master deposit the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra in the cult first, so it doesn’t disappear if you die?"
Quinn stopped and turned, very seriously. "Serena, you’re still not my match. If I really misjudge things and you come to kill me, you’ll just get killed instead. You—"
He traced a triangle in the air with his yuanqi, then drew a long vertical line through it. "This is you."
Then he drew a much longer straight line in the air. "This is me. No matter how big your angle, you’re still shorter than I am!"
Behind Serena, her sword box trembled, bells jingling inside. She smiled sweetly, "How would we know if we don’t try?"
Quinn walked on, hands behind his back. "No need to try. At equal cultivation, no one is my match—not you, not even the Imperial Preceptor."
He paused, looked up at the sky, and said quietly, "I am an Overlord Body."
Quinn lowered his head and sighed, "The only Overlord Body in the world…"
Serena hesitated, wanting to attack, but was awed by his overwhelming presence.
It was an aura of invincibility—and loneliness.
"Overlord Body? What kind of constitution is that? Is it stronger than the Four Great Spirit Bodies?"
She wondered to herself, "Did the Patriarch choose him as Cult Master instead of me because he’s an Overlord Body?"