Chapter 179: Entering the Palace

By the time he returned to the capital, it was already midnight.

Chen Yi He never imagined the martial world grand alliance would seize the entire capital in one fell swoop.

Chief Eunuch Zhang offered no resistance, merely leading the remaining Embroidered Uniform Guard troops out of the capital, fleeing southward in disarray. Chen Yi He and the others knew he was doing this to buy time, planning a counterattack once his injuries healed; his Embroidered Uniform Guard still had at least 300,000 troops outside the capital.

Moreover, the martial world grand alliance suffered heavy losses in this battle—about 100,000 troops, with at least 30,000 casualties—but compared to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, it was far better.

When the army marched out, not a blade of grass grew.

The Western Depot was completely leveled.

Chen Yi He, Yan Shan Hai, Shang Rong Nun, Linghu Shang, Hong Liang, Luo Qingkui, Hu Bao, Duan Sheng, Ximo Jianmo, and Le Bei Dashi marched ten abreast into the imperial palace. They made history—the Great Zhou Dynasty had ruled the Heavenly Peace Continent for over a thousand years, and no outsider had ever swaggered into the palace like this, yet they did.

At this point, Chen Yi He and the others did not know whether the Great Zhou Dynasty could continue to hold power, but right now, beneath their feet, was undeniably the territory of the imperial palace.

Under the night light, a crescent moon swept past the exquisite corner towers, casting a hazy, yellowish glow over the high walls, making the palace appear mysterious and tranquil.

The daytime panic and chaos had vanished completely; the ground was littered with broken antiques, scattered jade, and gold coins too heavy to carry away.

From afar, the rows of splendid, gold-and-bright palaces looked like jewels set in snow, glittering in the moonlight.

On the palaces, glazed tile roofs gleamed, resembling golden islands.

The elegant pavilions were encircled by winding ponds, covered in duckweed, clear and emerald green.

The dragons on the eaves, with golden scales and armor, claws bared and bodies twisted, seemed alive, as if soaring toward the nine heavens.

Coiled and spiraled, like beehive water vortices, standing who knows how many thousands of layers high.

Chen Yi He had never been to the Forbidden City, but he had seen many images and videos of palaces on television and his phone.

This was Chen Yi He's first time experiencing it in person. Being there, he could not help but marvel—imperial life was simply unimaginable.

"Hahaha!" Duan Sheng laughed loudly to the heavens, his rough voice echoing endlessly in the vast imperial palace, stimulating everyone's nerves.

Their nerves were like taut strings; the slightest vibration would produce the utmost stimulation.

"This is the imperial palace—just standing here I can smell the taste of power." Gazing at the carved beams and painted pavilions, Luo Qingkui couldn't help but sigh, "We martial artists toil our whole lives, yet we can't compare to sitting here for a single day."

"Hahaha, Brother Luo, are you aspiring to be emperor?" Yan Shan Hai asked with a laugh.

Luo Qingkui immediately stopped walking and said solemnly, "Don't say that!" Indeed, among the ten present, there was only one emperor; although Chen Yi He was the chief alliance leader, everyone knew he was merely a puppet.

Our slogan was to overthrow the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the Western Depot, and Chief Eunuch Zhang; toppling the Great Zhou Dynasty's rule, however, is another matter entirely—if you lump them together, their natures differ.

The former is the martial world's swift gratitude and vengeance; the latter concerns every person under heaven.

Whether this emperor acts or not is another matter.

Becoming emperor means shifting from the martial world to the imperial court.

"Whether this emperor acts or not is up to Chief Alliance Leader Chen—it's nothing to do with me." Luo Qingkui then shifted the blame onto Chen Yi He.

Chen Yi He had never imagined he might have a chance to become emperor, yet this imperial throne was no ordinary seat; three self‑styled gods had suddenly descended, able to take his life at any moment—"I think we should focus on those three right now."

Merely mentioning those three made the hearts of all ten turn cold—a chill rising from the very core.

An unbeatable existence.

"If I don't avenge this grudge, I'm unworthy of being a Sword Devil! My master's bloodthirsty sword—this grudge must be repaid!" Ximo Jianmo said angrily.

"Don't even mention the bloodthirsty sword being broken; even if it were intact, it wouldn't match them—they could kill you as easily as slaughtering a chicken." Hu Bao spoke bluntly and directly.

Ximo Jianmo was not as hot‑tempered as before; he merely pursed his lips and gave a wry smile, "Indeed." Never in the past decades had anything made him so utterly convinced.

Having lost his bloodthirsty sword, Ximo Jianmo is like a man missing an arm—his strength will plummet. Fortunately, heaven's mandate did not deal a killing blow; otherwise he would have lost far more than just his sword.

"Is there any way to deal with them?" Chen Yi He asked.

This question is also theirs—shared by all ten.

Without realizing it, they had arrived at the main gate of the Great Hall within the main palace of the imperial palace. The main palace is the largest hall in the imperial palace, dedicated to the emperor's morning audiences and receiving foreign guests.

Chen Yi He gently pushed open the heavy gate; the scene that greeted him felt utterly real, yet simultaneously unreal.

Because everyone had fled the imperial palace, the main palace lay in total darkness.

When Yan Shan Hai released his true qi, lights blazed across the palace roofs. With a sudden "whoosh," the gleaming gold shone into their eyes.

On the high hall stood the gold‑lacquer carved dragon throne.

The throne's arms bore two lifelike true dragons, which stared down at everyone below, solemnly gazing at the court officials, proclaiming to the world that whoever sat upon it must be the true dragon son of heaven.

No one dared to be the first to mount the dragon throne. They knew that, for now, taking the seat would meet no opposition, but the eventual outcome would be hard to imagine.

The ten of them stood in the palace like courtiers, awaiting the sovereign's arrival.

"Is there any way to deal with them? We have three months." Chen Yi He asked again.

Everyone's gaze turned to Yan Shan Hai.

Yan Shan Hai could only shake his head with a wry smile, "Don't look at me—I have no idea where they come from, what their strength is, or what their secret arts are. Senior Nun Shang Rong, what do you say?"

"If that's your view, we'll just eat and drink for three months, then wait to die," Duan Sheng complained.

"That's far too pathetic," Chen Yi He said helplessly.

Everyone's brows furrowed; after barely crushing half of the Western Depot, they now had to face the "gods."

"Do you say they're truly gods?" Hong Liang suddenly asked, "Gods?"

"They are gods, and yet they are not gods." At the main gate of the main palace, a person slowly stepped inside.