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The Enchanting Empress’ brow shook, “Zhuo Fan?”

“You can call me an old friend, Demonic Emperor Zhuo Yifan.”

“What?”

“Not many knew of your affair back then but some of the Eight Emperors did, including me.”

Zhuo Fan had his eyes closed not far, sending, “I’m doing this to settle our age-long grudge. I gave you the chance to settle your affair, but you chose not to.”

[So that’s why!]

The Enchanting Empress chuckled, “You came back and now you live up to your name in uniting our lands. For you were the strongest among us.”

The black energy surged and the Enchanting Empress was swallowed up, leaving behind nothing but dust. He Haodong’s grip now held ashes and broken cloth just like his son. He looked at the sky, confused, and roared, “What the hell is going on? Who killed my son? Where is Chu Qingcheng? Is the Enchanting Empress innocent or not?”

“You’ll know in time. There’s no need to be hasty, Mountain Lord He.”

Zhuo Fan’s eyes flashed and he snickered. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his body as he left.

A month later, Zhuo Fan went to the Luo clan’s base and entered his study with a smile. He gave a bookcase a light push and it slided to reveal a shelf with eight pieces of wood holding the names of the Eight Emperors; three of them were missing.

He took out the Enchanting Empress’ token and smiled, “Farewell, Enchanting Empress.”

Zhuo Fan flicked it behind him.

It burned in mid air, landing in a brazier.

“Zhuo Fan!”

Chu Qingcheng burst in with a broad smile, but the row of Emperor tokens left her startled, “W-what are you doing?”

Zhuo Fan smiled and shrugged, “Nothing, just cleaning.”

“Cleaning? These?”

Chu Qingcheng gave the tokens a skeptical look, feeling uneasy at the missing ones. Then she turned to the piece burning in the brazier, enough remaining for her to discern the Enchanting Empress being written on it, “Why did you burn my master’s token?”

“Oh, Qingcheng, you care so much about the murderer that tormented your family?”

Chu Qingcheng was grave, shaking her head, “I don’t. She hurt my family, but she is still my master that raised me for a century…”

“How would you choose if you had to kill her?” Zhuo Fan was solemn.

Chu Qingcheng shuddered and teared up, “I don’t know. I just can’t face her. Zhuo Fan, I don’t know what to do…”

“It’s good, good that you don’t know.”

Zhuo Fan held her shoulder, sighing, “You don’t need to know but I won’t lie to you. Your master is dead.”

“What?”

“I’m a man who can differentiate between personal and public matters. If I were you, I would’ve burned with revenge, going after her life for killing my family. But as she raised me and became my master, as a disciple, I should be filial.”

Zhuo Fan looked her in the eye, “You no longer have to kill her. If you’re still concerned, hold her last rites, for all she has done for you. Of course, this is what I’d do. If you find anything painful, just do what your heart tells you and forget what I said.”

Chu Qingcheng rushed to say, “No, you’re right, opening my eyes. I could never strike her, but the least I can do is hold her last rites as her disciple, for peace of mind.”

“Great, go tell the rest and get ready!”

Chu Qingcheng nodded with a smile, leaving while taking one last look at the wooden tokens.

Zhuo Fan smiled as he turned to the tokens, “And then there were four. Of the Eight Emperors, only four remain. You must be thrilled to finally train in the supreme demonic cultivation method you yearned for so long, ha-ha-ha…”

“Steward Zhuo!”

Li Jingtian rushed in with a smile, “I heard miss Chu saying she wants to hold a service for her master. Does that mean you succeeded?”

Zhuo Fan nodded, “Yeah, I went to see the Enchanting Empress and found her a Saint in just a year, ha-ha-ha…”

“She did it in a year when thousands of years didn’t help?”

Li Jingtian smirked, “Steward Zhuo, you have an obscene cultivation method on you. You could use it to become a Saint in no time at all, even Sovereign. By then your greatest worry won’t come to be, he-he-he…”

Zhuo Fan was grave, “Witnessing the Eight Emperors training in the Demon Transformation Art, I am now certain it emphasizes transformation and not absorbing all creation. Cultivation fills your heart with demons. It’s better to be slow than rush it so that the demons can be purged and you can stand above them, achieving the pinnacle of the demonic path. Letting demons control you isn’t the answer. The Demon Transformation Art’s swift speed is a great temptation, but only by not falling for its lure will one cultivate its essence. Those like Zhao Chen and the other Eight Emperors will fall prey to it.”

“But this is easier said than done. None can understand a Sovereign’s mind. Elder Li, if there comes a time when you seniors touch upon the Sovereign Stage, remember this: Dao is boundless, thus one must never be impatient.”

“Ha-ha-ha, Steward Zhuo, you’re expecting too much. It’s best you tell this to Old Dan and them. I don’t qualify.” Li Jingtian beamed.

He Haodong had seen the Enchanting Empress’ harrowing demise and he became doubtful and lost.

[Who killed my son if not her?]

He had been looking into it for months now but never found anything. He chose to leave it be for now, for he had something urgent to discuss with the old men.

The Sacred Mountains’ plan for the Emperor lands had gone sideways. They had done the work for others to reap the profits? Their endless pride could never accept such a loss.

It was like the Sacred Mountains were taken for fools.

“Mountain Lord He!”

On the 7th Sacred Mountain, in front of a splendid hall, He Haodong was greeted by kneeling Saints.

He Haodong gave them a quick wave as he asked, “Are the other Mountain Lords in?”

“The Mountain Lords are discussing right now. Allow us to notify them.”

“Notify and discuss crap, more like it. Our efforts are taken by someone else and they have time for a chat?” He Haodong stormed in.

An old man with a long beard in the head seat smiled, “Haodong, sit, please. We were just talking about how those brats we sent down are doing a good job and keeping the peace. They still have a knack for leading the people. We intend to send three more to take over other spots in the Eight Emperors. We are still debating who. Haodong, do you have any young talents on the 6th Sacred Mountain? Let’s send someone from your place this time, ha-ha-ha…”

“Send more fools to dance to another’s tunes? To make it worse, they’re happy to do it in their ignorance!”

He Haodong slumped in his chair, gnashing his teeth, “Brothers, you’re only hearing brats bragging about their great achievements while hiding what’s really happening down there. Just send someone to see. The Emperor lands are now under the Luo clan’s leadership, with the people knowing nothing of the Eight Emperors or Sacred Mountains. The three young masters we sent are worse than puppets. At least with royal puppets, the people know who rules. But these dumb brats…”

“What?”

The six gapped, “Haodong, w-what did you say? Just tell us straight what’s going on. Who is the Luo clan? We never heard of it.”

He Haodong’s face twitched and he sighed.

[These fools have been stuck on the Sacred Mountains all this time and are blind to the world outside. They only focus on the annual tribute, oblivious to the three brats acting just like them, ruining the Sacred Mountains’ name with their crude attempts.]

Then the Luo clan swooped in to take over with no effort.

[Utter fools!]

He Haodong took a deep breath and sipped his tea, then he recounted all he’d seen.

The six old men blinked in shock, then were outraged. The Luo clan deserved death for deceiving the mighty and all powerful Sacred Mountains.

They didn’t even stop to think of the horrors their three disciples inflicted on the innocent population, or the scores of people killed unjustly. And now they had the nerve to be angry…