Chapter 156: The Resolute Flame

Zhou Yi raised his hand and pressed down the raging waves filling the tent, gazing thoughtfully toward the direction Miao Le departed. The night wind swept wolf howls across the tribe, and the turtle shell on the altar suddenly cracked, revealing a spider‑web pattern.

"Everyone need not worry; Miao Le's visit this time is exactly to my liking," Zhou Yi gently placed the tea cup on the desk, his knuckles rhythmically tapping the sandalwood grain, "If the plan is sound, the disaster of the Demon Race may be cut down with ease."

Sui Huang watched the young emperor‑ruler's eyes glitter, and suddenly recalled the past when, with his unbreakable three‑inch tongue, he had spoken the water tribe of a hundred thousand back.

This seemingly gentle Human Emperor was, at his core, unmistakably a scheming fox.

"Does the emperor truly intend to open the whole realm for his propagation?" You Chao couldn't help asking, the vine armor he wove in his hand emitting a faint rustle.

Zhou Yi suddenly rose and pushed open the balcony window; the great wind of Honghuang wrapped with pine waves surged into the council hall: "Not only must we permit him to propagate, we must also have the whole clan welcome him. I order the elders of each division to lead the young talents to gather at Fire Cloud Cave, so that the mage Miao Le may truly feel the sincerity of the Human Race."

"What if the Demon Race takes the opportunity to strike?" a Zi Yi Clan member twirled his hem, thoughtful.

"Well asked!" Zhou Yi spun around abruptly, his dark robe rustling in the wind, "Imagine the Saint's senior disciples opening a platform to expound the sutras, and the Demon Race disrupts the ritual..." Before he finished, the four elders exchanged knowing smiles.

Sui Huang slammed the table and exclaimed, "When that time comes, Miao Le will be like riding a tiger and unable to dismount; can the Tai Qing Sheng Ren simply stand by? Brilliant, but if Miao Le sees through the scheme..."

"I have long declared the Demon Race's movements," Zhou Yi crossed his arms beneath the star chart, his gaze piercing layers of clouds toward the thirty‑three heavens beyond:

"Since he boasts himself a disciple of the Saint, we shall build a grand stage for him. Send orders for each division to hang lanterns and streamers; I intend to let the Ren Sect's doctrinal vein blossom brilliantly upon our clan's lands."

After everyone took their orders and withdrew, Zhou Yi sat alone at the observatory.

The night wind carried a faint scent of alchemical incense, reminding him of the scene when the Tai Qing Sheng Ren appeared in the guise of an old man to visit.

That scroll of Zhetian Imperial Method still provoked the Saint's jealousy; this propagation—whether a friendly overture or a test? The Tai Chi sigil at Miao Le's waist, half‑visible, glowed with a cold, clear light under the moon.

The great mage Miao Le wishes to establish a Dao lineage among the Human Race; Zhou Yi, of course, neither affirmed nor denied.

Nevertheless, there is no need to worry about it; after all, the Human Race today is far different from the past.

After studying the supreme scripture Zhetian Imperial Method, how can ordinary cultivation paths still draw the clan's attention?

Even with the Mysterious Immortal orthodox lineage before one's eyes, it is hard to shake the foundational Dao‑heart of Human cultivators.

When the great mage Miao Le stepped out of his ancestral lands to survey the four directions, the Tai Qing chief disciple's pupils gradually flashed with astonishment.

The Honghuang Human Race in his memory still lingered in the era of hardship: hunters whose clothes barely covered them, farmers with gnawing hunger, tribes surviving under the watch of ferocious beasts.

Now before him lay people dressed in brocaded robes, jade towers and crystal palaces, even the old farmers in the fields wore a rosy complexion, let alone the subtle Daoic resonance flowing around the traveling cultivators.

The most shocking was the sheer number of Human cultivators. He recalled that when the Tai Qing Sheng Ren spread his teachings, only a handful could even lay a Dao foundation.

Now the fields are bathed in immortal light; Golden Core cultivators flit through the market like fish crossing a river, and several soaring qi currents signal the presence of Great Luo Golden Immortal strongmen.

Miao Le was inwardly alarmed; this was no longer the frail clan that once needed the Saint's protection.

Especially when he reached the training arena, he saw children practicing fist techniques that unintentionally aligned with stellar trajectories; passing the academy, he heard a mortal teacher lecturing on the "Dao Zang Zhu Shu" and mastering the Mysterious Immortal's samadhi.

These details cracked in Miao Le's sea of perception like spring thunder, forcing him to reassess the propagation plan; if he still followed the master's old strategy, it would only invite ridicule.

Zhou Yi stood atop the cloud peak, overlooking everything, a faint smile curling his lips. He had long anticipated that Miao Le would undergo this cognitive upheaval, and thus allowed him to observe the Human Race's true visage.

After all, before the civilizational spark nurtured by the Zhetian Imperial Method, any Saint's Dao lineage must humble itself to find footing in the hearts of the Human Race.

After the Tai Qing Sheng Ren propagated among the Human Race, this once‑frail clan finally produced some warriors worthy of a fight, though their overall numbers remained scarce.

While the great mage Miao Le toured the Human settlements, he suddenly sensed several dense Golden Immortal auras, a discovery that shook his spirit profoundly.

It should be known that throughout the Vast Wilderness World, a Golden Immortal's cultivation is sufficient to found a sect and dominate a region.

The cultivator counted on his fingers and replayed memories, clearly recalling that when the master transmitted the teachings, the Human Race had not produced a single Golden Immortal.

He had thought Sui Huang's four Great Luo Golden Immortals were the clan's pinnacle strength, yet within just a few hundred years the mid‑tier forces had grown to this magnitude.

As he inwardly shivered, a massive surge of energy soaring skyward in the distance once again caught his attention.

Following the guidance of his spirit‑sense into the deep valley, the scene before him caused Miao Le's pupils to narrow slightly.

He saw tens of thousands of elite soldiers arrayed like a forest, their weapons' cold glints forming a silver wave; each warrior's surrounding killing aura coalesced above the formation into a blood‑red, dark‑bird phantom. Such martial grandeur, even the elite of the ancient witch‑demon wars were no greater.

"Halt!" a sound of breaking the void rang sharply, as a guard in dark armor with a horizontal halberd blocked the way.

Although merely dressed as a common foot soldier, his cultivation of the Taiyi Mysterious Immortal realm made Miao Le silently gasp; such a level, which in the Three Teachings could be assigned to an inner‑disciple, was here merely a regular guard?

The cultivator brushed his dust lightly and declared his identity, yet the guard remained unmoved; from beneath the black‑iron helm came a metallic voice: "This is the Changlin Army's forbidden zone; those who do not retreat within three breaths shall be beheaded!" Before the words finished, twelve Great Luo realm pressure forces surged within the formation, clearly indicating that a peerless master had been covertly targeting this spot.

Miao Le was startled to find that the Tai Qing jade talisman in his hand could not summon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth; only then did he notice that the entire camp was shrouded by some mysterious law.

Facing the relentlessly tightening forest‑like formation, he ultimately chose to retreat; the Human Race seemed to have quietly nurtured a depth beyond the saints' expectations.

"What if I must enter today?" Miao Le the great mage began, but his surrounding vigor erupted instantly, pressing toward the spear‑bearing guard like a mountain‑top tsunami.

The Great Luo Golden Immortal's might was laid bare, the entire space trembling and humming.

The body beneath the bronze battle armor quivered slightly, the young warrior's knuckles turning white.

The Taiyi Mysterious Immortal realm cultivation, under such pressure, was like a candle in the wind; the black‑iron war boots were sunk three inches into the ground.

Remarkably, his long spear remained as steady as a rock, its blade pointing straight at the enemy's throat: "The command is as solid as a mountain."

The hoarse throat sound was wrapped in iron‑rusted blood aura, his pupils burning with flames of resolve.

Miao Le's pupils narrowed; the body before him, whose bones creaked under pressure, suddenly emitted a killing aura that made his Dao‑heart tremble slightly.

At that moment, a clear, long laugh echoed from the sky: "Brother Dao Miao Le, what refined interest brings you to our formation's training ground?"

You Chao stepped upon clouds and arrived, a dark‑yellow sash behind him rustling.

"It was You Chao, a fellow Daoist," Miao Le gathered his breath, a jade dust‑brush lightly sweeping his collar: "I merely wished to see the Human Race's new visage, and happened to have a misunderstanding with this young general."