Chapter 122: Proclamation

On the ten-thousand-li river and mountain, stones had already been piled beside Jade Mountain, but Wei Yuan had yet to decide whether to mold a ding or a bell, or something else entirely. If he had the chance, Wei Yuan thought he should return to the Hall of Manifestations to seek inspiration, and perhaps check if that old sweeping Daoist was still there.

When he returned to Lanshen Palace, the sky had brightened. Wei Yuan dismounted, reclaiming only three strands of fortune, leaving one within the warhorse. The horse’s height shrank from ten feet back to one zhang, its breath merely dulled, not collapsed.

Xu Wenwu rushed forward first, shouting: “Big Brother, divine and martial!”

He was nowhere to be seen during battle, yet was the first to come out to greet them upon victory—clearly, Xu Wenwu wasn’t entirely a fool.

Wei Yuan clapped him on the shoulder, then pointed to the warhorse behind him: “Mount it and ride for an hour.”

Xu Wenwu blinked: “Where to?”

“Anywhere. Ride in circles if you like. Just ride for a full hour.”

Xu Wenwu dared not refuse. He mounted the horse. Though the battle was over, he dared not ride far—what if he encountered a stray Witch tribe member? One strike would be enough to kill him. So Xu Wenwu rode in slow circles, far from the palace.

The surviving human cultivators now gathered on the open ground beside the palace. Only thirty or forty could still sit; the rest lay on the ground, receiving treatment from Yun Feifei and Xu Wan’er.

Seeing Wei Yuan approach, every cultivator’s eyes lit with fervor. Those still able to move struggled to their feet; those too weak to stand sat upright.

Wei Yuan looked over each one, counting even the gravely wounded—only one hundred ninety-seven remained. Before the battle, there had been six hundred seventy.

Seeing this, Wei Yuan felt no joy. Every inch of this land had been seized by the blood and lives of countless human cultivators. This was only possible because the Jia Mu Sheng Xuan constantly replenished life-force energy; had it been any other realm stone, not a single one here would have survived.

The Qingming Realm had now expanded to ten li, and the area around the palace had nearly become pure, clean human land. With the power of Sheng Xuan, all cultivators’ healing rates doubled; those poisoned or cursed were improving. In a realm built on ordinary stones, half of them would have died.

Though casualties were heavy, every surviving cultivator now had fire in their eyes.

Wei Yuan walked to the most severely wounded, placing a hovering palm over their wounds. Tiny emerald sparks glowed around his hand—the Jia Mu Sheng Xuan’s power had coalesced upon them. Their life force surged several-fold; wound-healing sped over tenfold. Gravely dying wounds visibly closed before their eyes.

Once their condition stabilized and death was no longer imminent, he moved to the next. In moments, five who should have died were pulled back from the brink—this was nothing short of divine miracle!

The cultivators gazed at Wei Yuan with burning eyes. Wei Yuan too felt he ought to say something. Many historical examples came to mind, but he felt all such references were hollow now, unable to express his heart.

He thought a moment, then said: “Before this battle, everyone must have thought we were certain to lose. But we held. We won.”

The cultivators slammed their fists into the air, roaring with wild fury.

Wei Yuan raised his voice, waving his arm fiercely: “The Witch Yu clan won’t give up. But we will hold this ground—we will win! We will win every battle, kill every bastard who crosses the border!!”

The cultivators roared again.

Wei Yuan leapt onto a large rock, spear pointing skyward: “Soon we’ll raise a great army and march into the Witch realm…”

Amid thunderous shouts, a shrill voice suddenly rang out: “...and steal money and women!”

The crowd fell silent. All cultivators stared, baffled. Stealing money made sense—but why steal Witch Yu women?

Wei Yuan’s face turned green as he spotted Xu Wenwu—who should’ve been riding the horse but had somehow returned. He’d finally mustered the spirit to speak, seized the moment’s momentum—and this fool ruined it all.

Xu Wenwu, sensing the sudden silence, realized he’d spoken wrongly—even if he didn’t know why. But he had quick wit. He dismounted, raised his arm, and shouted: “Lord, are you born of a different seed? From now on, we follow Big Brother—through fire and water, we’ll die without hesitation!”

What was this now? Wei Yuan laughed and sighed, sealing Xu Wenwu’s mouth with a strand of Dao power. But Xu Wenwu swallowed it whole—his cultivation subtly advanced.

Before Wei Yuan could react, Xu Wenwu dropped to his knees, shouting: “Long live His Imperial Majesty!”

All cultivators followed, kneeling in unison: “May our Lord live forever!”

Xu Wenwu looked around, instinctively sensing something was wrong. Had he said something else foolish?

In ancient times, the Human King was the Immortal Lord, and the Immortal Lord was the Human King. After ascending to immortality, their lifespan exceeded ten thousand years. So calling the Human King “Ten Thousand Years” was actually cursing him to die soon.

Now, the Great Tang was the universal sovereign, deeply entrenched in the people’s hearts. Though nine states ruled their own lands and the Tang throne stood empty, the moral authority remained. One could declare oneself ruler—but only as a king, and one must still acknowledge the Tang Emperor as supreme sovereign. Xu Wenwu’s “His Imperial Majesty” was not just treason—it was a death sentence for Wei Yuan’s entire clan, inviting universal condemnation.

Seeing all cultivators kneel—even Yun Feifei and Xu Wan’er—Wei Yuan was utterly unprepared. When did this become rebellion?

Now is not the time… Wei Yuan calmed himself.

He had slain two Law-Form cultivators only because the Immortal Lord had intervened from afar. Without the Immortal Lord’s power, even the Taichu Palace’s suppression wouldn’t require the Ancestors—Zhang Sheng, the senior sister, or any of them could have handled it alone.

After carefully weighing the pros and cons, Wei Yuan suddenly realized: Why was he even thinking about this?!

“Get up, all of you—quickly! What are you doing? I’m merely a lowly disciple of Taichu Palace—now, and always.” Wei Yuan pulled each one up, but none would rise.

The two highest-ranked, most respected surviving cultivators exchanged glances, then spoke together: “Lord, you established the realm stone and reopened this land—you are its master. This is the ancient custom of our people, passed down for hundreds of thousands of years. It does not prevent you from remaining a Taichu Palace disciple. We only wish to follow you, to guard our kin and clan. No matter your title, from now on, you are our master.”

!

Wei Yuan glanced left, then right; one had been recruited by Yun Feifei from nearby towns, the other was Xu Jingfeng’s head guard—they had no prior connection, yet their unspoken coordination now revealed they had long been colluding.

The bloodbath had just ended. Every cultivator here had come expecting death—and nearly seventy percent had fallen. Each one here could truthfully say: I faced death without fear. Wei Yuan could not dismiss their wish.

Wei Yuan sighed inwardly and said: “Rise, all of you. I will stay here—I won’t leave. If you’re willing to risk it with me, then let’s carve out a land where our people can thrive!”

The two cultivators bowed again: “We swear eternal loyalty, my lord!”

All cultivators roared: “We swear eternal loyalty, my lord!”

Wei Yuan was caught off guard again, thrust onto the fire. He refused repeatedly, finally managing to change “my lord” to “master”—barely fitting tradition.

When all cultivators rose, Wei Yuan was utterly drained, more exhausted than when he’d slain the Law-Form cultivators.

The sky now fully bright, sunlight poured down, illuminating the ten-li realm in vivid clarity—every blade of grass, every tree, thrumming with life. The mountains glowed emerald, the grass lay like velvet, even the broken walls shone beautiful in the light. Beyond ten li lay a dark, damp, ink-green world. Compared to that, this small, radiant realm was a true earthly paradise.

Though everything lay in ruins, not a single roofed house remained, this was now the hope of countless souls.

(End of Chapter)