Chapter Twelve: The Order Is Issued, Marching to the Southern Frontier

“Qing Li pays respects to the Son of Heaven.”

Qing Li stepped out from the doorway, knelt down on one knee, placed her right hand over her chest, and bowed her head slightly, speaking with reverence.

At this moment, she was as noble and graceful as ever, her manners impeccable. Yet, upon closer inspection, there was an indescribable sharpness about her—a concealed edge—imbuing her with a sense of composure and grandeur.

“What is your preferred weapon?” the Son of Heaven asked, glancing at Qing Li by his side, a thoughtful look flickering in his eyes.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, the spear.”

Qing Li, not daring to delay, bowed once more and answered crisply with due respect.

The Son of Heaven did not reply at once. A faint smile played at his lips as he slowly raised his left hand. In the center of the illusory lake before him, a spear of ancient make, heavy and exuding a subtle yet fierce aura, materialized.

With a slight beckon of his finger, the spear, as if sentient, flew straight to Qing Li and hovered before her.

“This weapon, forged from the waters of the River of Forgetfulness, is already nearly at the level of an immortal treasure. Nurture it well, and in time, it shall ascend.”

With a gentle wave, a stream of spiritual energy lifted Qing Li to her feet. The Son of Heaven’s eyes glimmered with amusement as he spoke slowly.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your boundless grace. Qing Li...has no way to repay such kindness…”

“In the days to come, wherever Your Majesty’s sword points, Qing Li shall wield her spear and fight until it is stained with blood!”

Sensing the smile in the Son of Heaven’s eyes, Qing Li trembled, her beautiful gaze shimmering with emotion as she bowed deeply before him.

“Go and see the Kingdom of Cold Moon.”

“Your father has waited there for you a long time.”

Without further words, the Son of Heaven’s eyes grew deep and distant as he gazed into the illusory lake. With a wave of his hand, a harrowing scene appeared within its depths.

There, wind and snow raged, fire and blood were everywhere. The air was filled with screams and wails—this was the snowy northern frontier.

“Of the three hundred and sixty-eight northern kingdoms, only Cold Moon remains unbroken.”

“Outside the valley, sixty thousand Yin soldiers await.”

“Lead them. Pacify the northern lands.”

His voice was unhurried as he gently touched Qing Li’s brow, transmitting to her the reformed Mo Luo Killing Domain from the previous night. The original was tailored for himself, but with slight adjustments, it now suited Qing Li perfectly.

“When the time comes, come to me.”

“Claim the position of Asura.”

With these last murmured words, the Son of Heaven fell silent. Qing Li, for her part, felt her resolve strengthen as her body trembled and her clear voice rang out:

“Qing Li obeys!”

Bowing once more, she did not hesitate, but took her leave at once.

The crime of rebellion was one the Son of Heaven had every reason to punish, yet for her sake, her father’s life had been spared.

But that was far from all. Not only had her father’s crimes gone unpunished, but she had also been granted an immortal treasure destined to ascend.

Moreover, Qing Li could clearly feel how perfectly the Mo Luo Killing Domain now resonated with her.

To receive the Son of Heaven’s art in such a fitting manner made the underlying intentions self-evident.

Such immense grace—she, a mere mortal—could never hope to repay.

“The eastern realm and the northern frontier are now secure,” the Son of Heaven mused after Qing Li departed, a contemplative glint in his eyes. “But the southern lands, spanning tens of thousands of miles, require my personal attention…”

Rising to his feet, he set off southward, each step rendering his figure increasingly ethereal, until at last, he vanished completely.

After the Son of Heaven’s departure, Qing Li arrived outside Longevity Valley. She stood silently in the void, gazing at the ranks of tens of thousands of solemn and orderly spectral soldiers assembled beyond the valley. Moved, she cried out coldly:

“Soldiers, follow me home—let us pacify the northern frontier!”

“At your command, Princess!”

At her words, the multitude responded in thunderous unison, their voices shaking the heavens.

Thus, with great momentum, they made their way toward the Kingdom of Cold Moon in the north.

Meanwhile, above the twelve sacred lands in the eastern domain, a spectral youth clad in heavy armor stood quietly in the void.

Behind him were thousands upon thousands of armored soldiers.

“Spread the word: From this day forth, under the command of King Jiang, Yin Commander Mo Yuan establishes the Reincarnation Sect. All twelve sacred lands are now branches of my sect.”

“In three days’ time, I expect the masters of every sect in the east to come bearing gifts in homage!”

Mo Yuan gazed imperiously over the sweeping mountains and the majestic palace below, his tone calm yet commanding.

“We obey, Commander!”

At his order, those behind him clasped their fists and bowed before turning to carry out his commands.

“Ten Yin Generals, each with three thousand troops, will garrison every branch. The rest shall enter the Supreme Holy Land and hold the fort!”

With a brief pause, a profound light flickered in Mo Yuan’s eyes as he issued his instructions once more.

“We obey, Commander!”

In an instant, the tens of thousands of Yin soldiers split into ten groups, each heading toward a sacred land.

“I am eager to see which sect dares defy the will of the Son of Heaven…”

Once his retinue had left, a cold gleam flashed in Mo Yuan’s eyes as he murmured and strode toward the last remaining sacred land.

Eleven of the twelve sacred lands were occupied; only one was left as a test of loyalty.

As news spread, those loyal to the Underworld and those who feared the Son of Heaven would not dare harbor further thoughts of resistance.

But should anyone dare step into the unguarded sacred land, their intentions—if not outright evil—would certainly show utter disregard for imperial command.

Such a person deserved nothing less than death.

At that time, in the vast southern lands stretching tens of thousands of miles, the mountains were verdant and the rivers clear.

At the southern border, a calm-faced youth in a black and gold embroidered robe walked slowly through the endless forest alongside a respectful middle-aged man dressed similarly.

“Your Majesty, in this minister’s opinion, the southern demon clans are becoming far too insolent.”

“That you have come in person, yet they show not a shred of respect—no one has come to greet you even now.”

Staring out at the boundless woods, King Chujiang frowned deeply, a trace of displeasure in his eyes.

“Who now rules the southern lands?” the Son of Heaven asked after a brief pause, a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Your Majesty, it is a Seven-Colored Auspicious Cloud Python, half a step from immortality, calling itself the Python God. Under its command are the Vermilion Bird, Azure Dragon, White Tiger, and Black Tortoise—four sacred beasts, all peak quasi-emperors, equal to the great emperors themselves.”

King Chujiang replied with utmost respect, not daring to delay.

“A python?” The Son of Heaven was a little surprised, then asked,

“Where did this python learn its arts?”

“To the best of this minister’s knowledge, it was taught cultivation and the Dao by a quasi-immortal emperor of the demon race.”

“But as to who this quasi-immortal emperor was, that remains unknown.”

“These details come from the python itself; as for their veracity, they have yet to be verified.”

King Chujiang lowered his head, speaking in a deep voice, not daring to meet the Son of Heaven’s gaze. To have presided over the Celestial Domain for tens of thousands of years, yet remain ignorant of such matters, was indeed a failing.

“There is no need for concern,” the Son of Heaven said, shaking his head gently, signaling that King Chujiang should not worry. A spark of interest glimmered in his eyes as he laughed softly,

“Come, let us go meet this new lord of the demon clans.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Though King Chujiang harbored some doubts, he voiced none and followed the Son of Heaven respectfully as they made their way deeper into the southern wilds.