Chapter 785: The Three Paths of the Divine Dynasty

“What can you offer in return?”

From the moment Shen Yi saw that vast sea of imperial qi, he knew today would yield no tangible benefit.

The other party appeared to be showing off, but in truth was explaining himself… explaining the original question.

Just as Shen Yi had previously suspected.

This emperor had indeed prepared to sacrifice more than half of Shenzhou as payment, but not because he was a madman—because he had something to win with.

To win against the countless gods and buddhas.

As for how to win, the other did not say outright, but before such an immense torrent of imperial qi, even the strongest being Shen Yi had ever seen—the Great Freedom Pure World Bodhisattva—appeared as insignificant as an ant.

“What do you need most right now?” the emperor asked again, submerging himself once more into the wine pool, leaving only his head exposed.

Shen Yi pondered for a long while, then raised his head and said seriously: “Survival.”

“Exactly.”

The man smiled, as if he had expected it: “Borrowing strength among the Three Teachings is perilous beyond measure. Though you succeeded in slaying the Southern Emperor, problems will inevitably arise.”

“Are you now knee-deep in trouble?”

The emperor spoke, sinking fully beneath the surface to swallow a mouthful of wine; his furrowed brows eased slightly: “What are you planning to do?”

“Head to Beizhou, seek refuge with the Three Immortals Sect.”

Shen Yi revealed nothing; the man controlled all imperial qi—learning his whereabouts was effortless.

“So now it’s the Bodhi Sect’s monks who want to kill you?”

The emperor nodded slightly and continued: “How exactly do you intend to seek refuge? Give me a concrete plan.”

“...”

Shen Yi fell silent again and shook his head: “No. I know nothing about the Three Teachings.”

He was utterly unfamiliar with Beizhou. Though he could draw on Shen Xu’s knowledge, that worm demon had never even been to Beizhou—only accidentally attained immortality through the Shen Xu cultivation method, and even in Nanzhou, he had been ostracized by his own sect, forced into seclusion within the Grand Void Realm, rarely emerging.

He could bluster about anything, but whenever details came up, he knew nothing.

“If you’re going to seek refuge with the Three Immortals Sect, you need to find a relative.”

The emperor showed no surprise; he stole a glance at the memorial scroll—from the first matter to the last, in just a few years, this man had emerged like a demon, rising to become a famed figure in Nanzhou.

This was certainly not the path of a legitimate cultivator.

For someone like this, one must either uncover his secrets and use them, or eliminate him early.

But the emperor chose neither.

This General of Nanyang was a meritorious subject of the Divine Dynasty—he could not be killed… yet from the cold intent in the young man’s eyes when facing that question, the emperor saw clearly: they were not of the same path; at heart, this youth despised his own idea.

This General of Nanyang could not accept wagering the lives of all living beings.

Since they were not on the same path, better to let each walk their own great road, avoiding mutual disgust.

“The Three Pure Ones and Five Emperors—who among them is closer to your lineage?”

“The Three Pure Ones and Five Emperors?”

Shen Yi lifted his clear eyes.

The emperor’s expression grew complex; he licked his lips: “Regarding the Three Teachings, setting aside the orthodox deities, each of the remaining two has a group of supreme figures.”

“The Bodhi Sect has the Three Buddha Ancestors, each accompanied by two True Buddhas on either side, each governing three Sumeru Mountains—nine in total.”

“Correspondingly, the Three Immortals Sect, besides the Three Pure Ones, has five other Emperors—eight in total.”

“Why is one missing?” Shen Yi asked curiously, wondering if there was still a disparity in their foundations.

“Tsk. Not really missing.”

The man rubbed his chin stubble lightly: “It’s actually the Six Emperors—the Four Cardinal Emperors of East, South, West, North, plus the Earth Mother Empress…”

“And the seventh?” Shen Yi looked over.

The emperor glanced at him, as if exasperated: “The seventh is me.”

“...”

Shen Yi froze, studying the man before him—utterly devoid of cultivation traces—and could not reconcile him with the peerless top-tier powerhouse.

“That’s why I say Five Emperors.”

The man stretched lazily: “Emperors don’t cultivate. They gain power equal to theirs through imperial qi, but their lifespans are as fleeting as mayflies—each generation replaces the last holder of the final Emperor’s seat. By my time, I simply gave up. I’m too lazy to care about them.”

He pointed to his front tooth: “You don’t think this was knocked out, do you? It fell out on its own. I’m old. I’m dying.”

With the cultivation of the Six Emperors, repairing a single tooth would be trivial.

The emperor closed his eyes, leaning lazily against the pebbles. He used this tooth to remind himself: he was still a man, not a god or immortal, and he would die—so he must finish everything in his short time, leaving no retreat.

“These seventeen together represent the world’s Dao lineages.”

“What is your Dao fruit?”

“Shen Xu lineage,” Shen Yi replied bluntly.

In this situation, one misstep meant death and the collapse of his Dao.

The only one who could help him was the emperor before him.

“Let me think… your Dao fruit should fall under the Lingxu Zi lineage of the Supreme Pure One. That Yuanhuan Great Luo Immortal is neither high nor low—perfect for you to settle in.”

The man clearly understood the Three Teachings deeply; after a brief pause, he gave his answer: “But your Shen Xu lineage traces back to a worm demon—your roots are too weak. Given the Three Immortals Sect’s usual haughtiness, you’ll face discrimination. Since you’re fighting for survival, tone down your temper—it won’t be hard to stay.”

“As long as you stay, even if you can’t connect with the Supreme Pure One, they won’t let those monks bully you.”

“Then… stay in Beizhou, cause no trouble, keep low. Seek the path to Second Rank. That step is as hard as climbing to heaven—but once you take it, your life is secure.”

The emperor stretched, splashing wine droplets: “This information alone doesn’t match your achievements. Tell me—besides imperial qi, what else can I help you with?”

Again, that seemingly generous offer.

Shen Yi glanced at him helplessly; he was already accustomed to this emperor’s stinginess.

The man had already made it clear: beyond the demon-slaying bureau’s recruited cultivators, the imperial court’s own defensive forces—including the emperor’s own power—came entirely from celestial imperial qi.

Two entirely separate paths.

Under these circumstances, it was impossible to extract any real benefit—even a single piece of cultivation advice from this Sixth Emperor was out of the question.

“I need to be kept informed of all news from the Four Continents and the Three Teachings,” Shen Yi compromised. After what happened in Nanzhou, he understood the value of intelligence—sometimes more vital than any magic treasure.

“Agreed. Leave someone you trust in the imperial city; he will handle communication with you alone.”

The emperor agreed readily, then finally climbed out of the pool. He frowned instinctively but quickly masked his discomfort, waving his hand to summon a maid carrying a jade tray.

The tray held already-prepared fine wine.

He dragged his dripping body, personally filled two cups, handed one to Shen Yi, and teased: “Don’t worry—it’s not scooped from that pool.”

“...”

Shen Yi took the cup and drank with him.

The emperor wiped his lips with his sleeve, and only now, with a touch of melancholy, said: “It’s a pity. If our temperaments matched, with your help, our chances would rise by at least ten percent.”

Splash.

He set down his cup, turned, and submerged himself again in the pool. After long hesitation, he added: “My knife has only one chance to strike—not because I’m cruel, but because I cannot afford to lose.”

“Thank you for saving Nanzhou.”

“Live well. When I’ve conquered heaven and earth, return—still my Divine Dynasty’s top-ranked general.”

“If I lose… I beg you, immortal and bodhisattva, show mercy to all living beings.”

“Take care.”

Without giving Shen Yi another chance to speak, the emperor withdrew his gaze and ordered the maid to escort him out.

Deep into the night.

Shen Yi walked slowly out of the courtyard, staring at the empty long street. After a long silence, he exhaled softly: “Huh.”

This trip to the imperial city seemed to yield no tangible benefit.

Yet the emperor had granted a gift too precious to describe.

When he left Nan Sumeru, Shen Yi had gone to the Eight Extremes Valley and chosen to slay the Five Buddha Lords—binding himself hand and foot to the Divine Dynasty.

But the emperor’s final words had untied that rope and set him free.

No need to choose sides. Just live safely.

Whichever side won, Shen Yi would be the victor: advance, and he’d be the Divine Dynasty’s top general; retreat, and he’d be the Bodhi Sect’s Dragon-Taming Bodhisattva—or the Three Immortals Sect’s Grand Void Elixir Emperor.

The emperor’s meaning was clear: saving Nanzhou was enough. The rest was his burden.

“...”

Shen Yi’s gaze grew complex. As someone who had risen from obscurity, it was hard to feel fondness for an emperor who saw the world as a chessboard and living beings as pawns.

After all, who wants to be the pawn sacrificed?

But the complication lay here: even after long thought, Shen Yi could not conceive of a second path to victory.

Opposing him were countless emperors and true buddhas, six sect masters—while behind the Divine Dynasty’s people stood only one of the Six Emperors.

The emperor possessed top-tier power, yet could only watch helplessly as the Divine Dynasty was slowly devoured. Worse, his lifespan couldn’t compare even to the Second Rank’s Great Freedom, let alone the Great Luo Immortals.

After his death, would the next emperor have the courage to pick up that knife?

Moreover.

Shen Yi had always felt the weight of others’ expectations—even when barely surviving, he still worried about his home base being overrun.

He rarely encountered someone who took everything upon themselves and urged him to flee for his life.

This strange sense of relief was rare indeed.

“Huh.”

Shen Yi resumed walking down the long street, his eyes less troubled.

He understood the emperor’s thinking—but he could not follow. Not out of like or dislike, merely differing ideals. It was normal.

So the other party was an emperor, a hero of his age, while he himself was still fundamentally a petty person, capable only of doing what he could.

With the guidance of one of the Six Sovereigns, Shen Yi’s thoughts became much clearer.

He was about to seek out Ye Lan when, ahead, a carriage slowly halted, blocking his path.

“General Nanyang.”

A slender figure stepped down from the carriage and nodded with a smile toward Shen Yi: “Immortal Department, Lin Shuya. We met before at the Wine Pool.”

Saying this, he extended a jade slip: “This is the location of Lingxu Zi’s cave dwelling. The Emperor ordered me to deliver it to you.”

“Thank you, Lord Lin.”

Shen Yi took the jade slip, carefully stored it away, and when he looked up again, he saw Lin Shuya had not left—he reached toward the carriage and said gently, “I know General Nanyang is about to depart, and I dare not delay you; but while the sky is still dark, I would like to invite you to my residence for a brief talk.”

As he spoke, Lin Shuya studied the young man before him intently.

That memorial was not only obvious to the Emperor—upon reading it, Lin Shuya himself had been stunned, and sensed something extraordinary about this man; every line of his terrifying record bore signs of strangeness!

According to the Wine Pool maid’s report, this general did not share the Emperor’s views.

This aligned with Lin Shuya’s earlier suspicions.

How could a world-class prodigy who saved Nanzhou from ruin possibly tolerate the Emperor’s mad, foolish schemes?

Seeing Shen Yi remain silent, he forced a smile: “Just a simple talk—nothing more. Perhaps… we are kindred spirits?”

At those words, Shen Yi suddenly laughed.

Lin Shuya was momentarily stunned; his smile froze on his face: “Why does General Nanyang laugh?”

“Nothing.”

Shen Yi shook his head. He simply found it remarkable that the conversation he had just finished had already reached another’s ears so quickly.

Especially since that person was the head of the Immortal Department—the Emperor’s most trusted advisor.

“I’m more accustomed to walking alone.”

Shen Yi politely declined the offer and stepped past the carriage.

The waters of this imperial capital ran deeper than he had imagined.

In his current situation, where his life was in peril, Shen Yi had no wish to become entangled in these people’s ideological struggles.

“...”

Lin Shuya stood where he was, silently watching Shen Yi’s figure vanish into the night until he was gone.

He lowered his gaze and withdrew his hand.

After some time, the slender middle-aged man suddenly let out a scoff: “Hmph.”

Indeed, these lofty figures all share the same mindset—how could the safety of the realm possibly compare to their own cultivation? Even as the divine dynasty suffers mass devastation, their thoughts remain fixed on the imperial qi reward that has yet to reach them.

They’re holding a grudge.

Only someone like me, an ordinary person, can truly save the suffering and redeem the world.

Only ordinary people see others as fellow human beings.

“Your Excellency, should we summon a batch of imperial qi from another continent—perhaps draw two or thirty thousand jie—to appease this general’s resentment?” whispered the celestial department official in charge of the carriage.

“No need.”

Lin Shuyan’s expression remained calm as he turned and stepped into the carriage, pulling back the curtain, and said softly, “I misjudged him—he is not the kind of person I was seeking.”

(End of Chapter)