Xia Chen probed his body, but the qi yun golden dragon had vanished without a trace, as if it had never been.
During the search, he felt his spirit, qi, and vitality peak.
His condition was unprecedentedly prime.
"My foundation seems remolded—my strength's broken through to Seventh-Rank Spirit Refining Realm!"
Xia Chen murmured. Though his system let him advance via proficiency alone, a reforged foundation—shedding his crippled physique—was clearly vital too.
He felt only mild surprise at his leap in power.
Such immense energy had flooded him, shattering his body to ruin.
Yet, unexpectedly, it bore a vibrant life force, birthing his flesh anew in nirvana.
Calming himself at the altar's center, Xia Chen stepped toward Lingxiao Hall ahead.
He walked, unsure how long. Time here seemed frozen.
A day, a month, a year—perhaps a decade, a century.
The short distance felt like an endless expanse crossed.
At last, he entered Zixiao Hall.
Before him loomed colossal deities, their forms dwarfing mountains, gazes piercing the Nine Nether Depths.
Their auras could crush rivers and peaks.
Yet now, they stood still, heads bowed toward the front, as if their life's breath had burned out.
At their chests brewed mysterious crystals.
Xia Chen stood awed by the sight.
The Nine-Dragon Jade Seal in his hand bore a far grander origin than he'd imagined.
A shattered ancient Heavenly Court, sealed within.
He couldn't resist peering where the deities knelt—a towering figure, stars orbiting him, nine true dragons dangling like ornaments from his arms. He stood silent, yet an aura of utmost imperial supremacy radiated.
Sovereign Path Supreme.
All ways knelt before him!
"Double pupils!"
Xia Chen's mind reeled. As he looked, the endless chaotic qi veiling the emperor's face parted.
His first glance locked onto the man's eyes.
Born with double pupils.
In that moment, Xia Chen's own double pupils stirred, resonating with the emperor's, as if calling to kin.
Sensing a kindred spirit, a beam of purple-gold light shot from the figure's eyes.
"Again?"
Xia Chen instinctively recoiled, recalling the qi yun dragon's abrupt plunge into him.
But his body wouldn't budge.
The world awoke—myriad ways roared. The purple-gold light pierced his mind.
A torrent of information erupted within.
Xia Chen grunted, eyes darkening, and fainted on the spot.
…
Waking, he saw dawn's faint glow on the horizon. Night receded from the capital, light reclaiming the land.
He glanced at a clock crafted by a Celestial Master's Mansion sorcerer.
"Only one night passed?"
Checking himself, Xia Chen found his spirit, qi, and vitality strained, but his physique's qi and blood hit a zenith.
"I've reached Seventh-Rank Spirit Refining Realm—that wasn't a dream!"
Opening his palm, the jade seal totem surfaced in his vision.
Faint, pristine light shimmered, as if rejoicing that the gem shed its dust at last!
Xia Chen felt a distinct bond with the seal.
Recalling last night's events in that shattered Heavenly Court, a sudden, piercing pain, like a needle, struck his mind.
"The Primordial Emperor's Heavenly Dominion Scripture?"
A scripture had lodged in his mind. He tried to read it, but a chaotic mist shrouded it.
As if it weren't time for it to emerge.
"An emperor's path art, passed from that Heavenly Court lord? But why can't I see it—because the Spiritual Energy Revival hasn't begun, or I've not forged a qi yun dynasty to harness qi yun?"
Xia Chen speculated, then let it go. When the time came, its mysteries would unveil naturally.
Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he restored his spirit, qi, and vitality.
Though his strength had surged, the scripture's inheritance drained him, knocking him out.
He reasoned his weakness—body and spirit too frail to bear such power, let alone cultivate it.
He trained until afternoon, opening his eyes with a flush of vigor, his spirit, qi, and physique at their peak.
Stepping into the courtyard, he practiced punches, fists whistling with explosive bursts in the air.
"Seventh-Rank versus Eighth-Rank—a qualitative leap."
At this stage, Seventh-Rank was solid—capable of commanding a thousand in the army.
A thousand-man leader.
Among the martial World, this power would easily mark one as a master.
"Young Master, your commission's here—along with armor from the Imperial Guard!"
As Xia Chen sparred, Xia Qian dashed in, arms full with documents and armor.
Xia Chen paused, taking the papers and reading.
A direct appointment from the Ministry of War—transforming him from a commoner to an official.
"Starting as Seventh-Rank Commander—the perks of a marquis's heir!"
Xia Chen grinned. In his past life, reaching Seventh-Rank took untold time and toil.
Now, it came effortlessly.
"Six hundred years of glory, countless merits, ancestors' blood—this is their legacy!"
Murmuring at the document, Xia Chen knew why he'd gained this.
"Young Master, when do you take office?"
"Tomorrow!"
Xia Chen replied calmly, having awaited this for two months.
"So soon? Young Master, I want to go too!"
Xia Qian's eyes gleamed. Raised in the household, he craved the outside. His talent shone—Eighth-Rank Refining Essence achieved a month ago.
"Mm, pack tomorrow and join me!"
Xia Chen nodded. Martial heirs could bring house guards—an unwritten Dawu rule.
It ensured quick army control, curbed troublemakers, and bolstered safety. These heirs didn't just gild themselves—they fought, bled, and died.
Hence the civil officials' silence.
Any objection, and the martial clans retorted: "No guards? Send your kin to battle barbarians and beasts!"
The court fell mute every time.
The next day!
At dawn, Xia Chen rose early.
His first day in office!