Chapter 450: All Under Heaven

Li Guanyi turned his gaze inward, and the bronze Nine Tripods floated within his mind.

At this moment, the Nine Tripods were no longer as plain as they had been at first.

One-third of the tripod's body was now covered in golden ripples of light, yet unlike past transformations in Jiangnan and the Western Regions, these layers of radiance interconnected, forming a single continuous flow of light.

Thick, dense human destiny qi surged forth from within the tripod.

It faintly seemed linked to the destiny qi of the four directions.

Li Guanyi merely glanced once, yet he sensed a change within the third layer of the Nine Tripods' spiritual space: the once dim map of the realm had now fully merged Jiangnan, the southwest, and the Western Regions into one.

This transformation seemed more extraordinary than any previous change in the Nine Tripods; Li Guanyi faintly sensed that if he poured his consciousness into it, something significant would be triggered.

The Nine Tripods were mysterious and unfathomable; Li Guanyi did not know what chaos he might unleash, so he retracted his weapon and turned to the Ancient Crimson Dragon, saying:

"Elder, I wish to attempt something."

The Ancient Crimson Dragon regarded him with golden dragon eyes and laughed: "Just say you want me to guard you—why all this hesitation?"

Li Guanyi said: "Elder, your insight pierces like a mirror."

Li Guanyi offered the compliment outright.

Compliments cost nothing.

Qin Wu Hou had plenty.

The Ancient Crimson Dragon's whiskers swayed as he boomed with laughter: "You've got the same spirit as that old rascal from eight hundred years ago—when you don't need anything, you joke and curse, but when you do, your tongue is sweeter than anyone else's."

Today, he seemed utterly delighted:

"Fine, fine, fine—do whatever you want, go ahead and act boldly."

Li Guanyi nodded, withdrew his divine weapon into the Nine Tripods, and sent a spark of true spirit like a flame into the tripod; his mind stirred and descended into the third layer, his own qi linking with the entire tripod's destiny flow.

With a roar, the Nine Tripods' destiny qi shot skyward.

With this change, Li Guanyi's spirit felt utterly elevated, becoming vast as if he were a giant gazing down—even the once-mighty Ancient Crimson Dragon now seemed ordinary.

In that instant of mind and body's movement, he stood as high as heaven itself.

Li Guanyi "saw" the bronze ruins of the Jiuli homeland, saw the Fire Qilin and the Iron-Eating Beast, saw the Nine-Colored Divine Deer and Yao Guang, and saw himself seated cross-legged at the center of the Jiuli bronze altar.

Is this what the Daoist sect calls soul departure?

Li Guanyi instantly speculated—but immediately dismissed the thought.

No, not that…

Daoist soul departure, yangshen wandering, was merely a technique akin to a dharma form—ultimately a method of the peak of the sixth realm to the seventh realm, requiring control of one's own soul dharma form.

There was no such ease, no such calm.

Li Guanyi's current spiritual perception was profoundly mysterious, yet he had not yet activated any dharma form power.

As he carefully sensed it, he heard the low hum of the tripod, and faintly felt his spiritual essence riding the river of destiny qi, surging freely in all directions—a method far grander and more upright than Daoist or Xuan Sect techniques.

"The change at the moment of the Three Tripods uniting… this power is simply too immense."

The Iron-Eating Beast, Duanzi, sat there, its plump right paw gripping a bamboo shoot, gnashing its teeth to peel off the outer skin and devour the tender flesh inside.

Chew, chew.

The young Fire Qilin watched Li Guanyi with puzzled concern.

Yao Guang and the Nine-Colored Divine Deer stood nearby.

None of them noticed Li Guanyi's transformation.

Only the Ancient Crimson Dragon, hovering in the air and gazing downward, faintly sensed something; its dragon eyes widened in shock as it stared at Li Guanyi's body, then turned its gaze left and right, finally seeming to realize something, slowly lifting its head.

Its dragon eyes fixed on Li Guanyi, pupils contracting sharply.

This was the first time Li Guanyi had ever seen shock in the Ancient Crimson Dragon's eyes.

The Ancient Crimson Dragon looked as if it had seen a ghost.

Li Guanyi felt that in this state, his mind was empty and detached, and he had a premonition: this state, born from the moment the three tripods' destiny qi connected, was unsustainable and could not be repeated.

He merely nodded slightly toward the Ancient Crimson Dragon, his eyes cold and distant, his sleeves swirling.

He gazed into the far distance.

This body could see all under heaven!

Though Li Guanyi stood in the southwest, he sensed the existence of Chen, Ying, and the Central Plains; his gaze pierced distant lands, revealing the capitals of Chen and Ying, their flourishing or decaying destiny qi laid bare.

With his mortal eyes, he observed the destiny qi of all under heaven's warlords.

The Nine Tripods were truly instruments of state!

His control over destiny qi surpassed countless arcane arts.

It could be seized, stabilized, observed.

He saw the calamities of countless generations, saw Chen's destiny surging skyward—though decay was evident, it still pulsed with vast, overwhelming power, like a dead dragon lying beneath a riverbed, worms already crawling over it, fangs still bared, not to be trifled with.

He saw Ying's destiny, fierce and tyrannical, though already showing signs of decline.

Yet a blade of unmatched sharpness shot skyward, forcibly propping up its fading destiny; he also saw in the Central Plains the last wisp of crimson flame, and far across the grasslands, a boundless, desolate aura.

Li Guanyi suddenly understood: what his eyes beheld, beneath this body, was all under heaven.

This was the transformation of destiny qi under heaven.

An instinct rose in Li Guanyi's heart—a desire to go forward and see; his thought stirred, the Nine Tripods rang, and the destiny qi of the three tripods surged skyward, intertwining to form a bridge beneath his feet.

At that moment, Li Guanyi's intuition struck—he took one step forward.

He seemed to become an incomparable giant.

This colossal, soul-like entity took one step—and covered a thousand li.

Two steps—and two thousand li.

The Ancient Crimson Dragon watched the spiritual thought vanish into the void, then looked down at the seated Li Guanyi; it trembled faintly, subtly shifting.

With my heart, replace heaven's heart?

What kind of path has he truly walked?!

Does he truly intend to raise his sword and level the world, unifying the Western Regions, Northern Frontiers, Southwest, and Central Plains for the first time, bringing all living beings under a single ideal, forging an achievement unseen since antiquity?!

To establish accomplishments surpassing those of eight hundred years ago!

After merely ten or so steps, Li Guanyi seemed to tread upon the River of Destiny, crossing an immense distance, appearing at the edge of Ying State; Li Guanyi could almost 'see with his own eyes' that towering, piercing martial aura.

Li Guanyi did not draw near Ying State, let alone step into it, for he vaguely sensed that if he entered Ying State now, in this state where the Nine Tripods upheld his destiny,

he would immediately be sensed by the Divine General Jiang Su through the entanglement of qi currents.

If that happened, this supreme general, who had been suppressing something, would have no hesitation whatsoever—his divine weapon, Annihilation, would sweep toward Li Guanyi himself, striking violently across a thousand li.

Li Guanyi faintly sensed the flow of Ying State's destiny.

"... The people's destiny of Ying State converges upon Jiang Wuxiang's body, yet this destiny has been shattered by Uncle's malevolent aura, forcibly carving a fissure into this flawless Son of Heaven's qi through his own death."

"Now, this mass of people's qi, this national destiny, has come to rest upon Jiang Su's body."

Li Guanyi sensed that the martial malevolence upon Jiang Su, once the Grand Tutor, now faintly bore the Son of Heaven's human destiny—this made Li Guanyi involuntarily stunned:

"Is Jiang Su seizing destiny and absorbing it into himself?"

"Or is Jiang Wuxiang gradually transferring the entire destiny of Ying State onto the Divine General Jiang Su? Jiang Wuxiang still lives—and once human destiny is vested in one person, it is exceedingly difficult to steal..."

Li Guanyi suddenly felt a faint awakening, his expression subtly shifting.

He seemed to see the forlorn monarch in the Star-Picking Tower of the imperial palace.

An unthinkable thought.

A possibility that, in Chen Dingye's eyes, could never exist, now appeared in Li Guanyi's mind, filling him with awe for this aging, dying warlord.

So this is it!

Jiang Wuxiang never entrusted the future of Ying State to either of his two sons!

At the highest level of the Star-Picking Tower, the white-haired monarch tapped the railing, flipping through the military treatise he had written in youth, gazing far from the pinnacle of Ying State, seeing the desolation of heaven and earth, autumn winds sweeping fallen leaves.

His gaze remained heavy, fixed upon the world.

He saw his sons' cowardice, he saw their slaughter, and he recalled the world described three years ago by the young Fire Qilin—and this warlord, risen from a lowborn son, made a desperate gamble.

If the great tide of Ying State were entrusted to Jiang Gao and Jiang Yuan,

the world would surely collapse; Ying State, a great nation, could never stand against Li Guanyi—it would be ruined within twenty years.

Whelp, how could you contend with the Fire Qilin?!

Then let us make this desperate gamble—fitting for a life of integrity, worthy of this vast world. Now, Jiang Wuxiang's immense, surging human destiny is gradually transferring to the State-Protecting Duke, the world's supreme general, Jiang Su.

Whether the gentle and serene Jiang Gao or the haughty and ruthless Jiang Yuan, both have their flaws; neither can handle Ying State's present world. The one who once held spear and bore the monarch on his back was none other than the Divine General Jiang Su.

This vast nation, this ten-thousand-li territory, this boundless populace.

This boldness, this ambition, this will, this ferocity.

Jiang Wuxiang stood with hands clasped behind his back, like a dying ancient dragon, whispering softly:

"We who endure—shall we surrender our lifelong vows to the flowing east?"

"This world, and this unfinished dream."

"I entrust them all to you."

"When my life ends, I shall descend to the dark yellow springs below, to play chess with Chen Fubi."

Jiang Su once said that with Jiang Wuxiang's achievements, he would surely ascend to the heavens after death—but Jiang Wuxiang only laughed, saying his hands were caked in blood, and what he had done in life merited a thousand cuts and ten thousand slices.

After a long silence, he laughed again, saying heaven was full of sages—too dull.

Below ground, all are outlaws—that is where the thrill lies!

And my great Ying State, even if the world collapses and fractures into four pieces,

with this supreme general, can still hold up the sky with one hand.

My sons are unworthy—then—

I shall not pass on the legitimate succession.

There may yet be kings, but the nation's destiny will no longer reside in them; instead, let the Son of Heaven's destiny forge the Grand Tutor's weapon, armor him!

The aging Jiang Wuxiang, in his final posture, faced the civil and military officials of Ying State—those who had spent their lives scheming and conspiring—only to find themselves confronting this final situation.

In this age of fierce chaos, a dying hero-emperor arrives, wielding the Son of Heaven's divine weapon.

In the final moments of his life, Jiang Wuxiang would cut away all the rot of Ying State's past hesitations.

Such resolute boldness and grandeur were unimaginable to Chen Dingye, who, despite having Tai Ping Gong and Wu Wang, remained wary, even resorted to secret sons—how could he ever entrust the entire nation's destiny to the world's supreme general?

Jiang Wuxiang's decisive move gave Ying State a new path forward.

Li Guanyi sensed that even if he broke through now, the Grand Tutor of Ying State, Jiang Su, remained the most formidable adversary he currently faced.

Li Guanyi raised his gaze again toward Chen State; Chen State's destiny had shifted—Chen Dingye trusted no one, his path to the Western Regions severed, his waterways lost, like a dragon with its tail cut off, utterly devoid of any visible future.

But the destiny of Ying State now rested upon the Divine General Jiang Su.

Without defeating the Divine General Jiang Su, it was impossible to forge the Nine Tripods from the vast land and hearts of Ying State; as for Chen State's destiny, Li Guanyi studied it long and hard, yet could not find any auspicious sign resembling the ancient Crimson Dragon or the Nine-Colored Divine Deer.

"The destiny and earth veins of Ying State are strong enough to forge at least two Tripods, perhaps even three."

"Though Chen State has greatly weakened, it can still muster one Tripod easily."

"Such a vast territory—and not a single auspicious beast of human destiny?"

Li Guanyi was profoundly astonished; he extended his hand and plucked a thread of Chen State's destiny.

He stored it within the Ding.

He thought that, as he traveled the world, he might one day find the auspicious sign corresponding to this land—then, when he entered Chen State, he could use this destiny to forge one Tripod—or perhaps two.

Li Guanyi's original title of Marquis of Kai Guo was granted by Chen Dingye.

This title, the seal, the paperwork—all were utterly orthodox; when Li Guanyi first tapped into Chen State's destiny, it was slightly easier than tapping into the destiny of any other region.

This thread of destiny swirled, like a ribbon of color, coiling around Li Guanyi's hand.

Li Guanyi's heart now felt profoundly distant and detached; he took another step forward.

He saw the world, saw kings, saw mighty heroes looking down with disdain.

He saw the Azure Dragon finally reclaiming the spirit of a hero.

He also saw the mad Emperor Chen.

In a daze, he walked through Chen, walked through Ying, and finally arrived at the far northern lands beyond the Central Plains, standing upon the boundless northern grasslands.

Li Guanyi's physical eyes saw the edge of heaven.

He saw endless snow-capped mountains; at the northernmost, harshest reaches of the grasslands, snowflakes had already begun to drift faintly, vast sheets of snow swirling down. Li Guanyi gazed far into the distance and saw the Tie Futu upon the grasslands.

Li Guanyi's yuan shen stirred, stepping to the great yurt at the grasslands' center, where the Xiongcheng of the grasslands differed from the cities of the Central Plains—centered on the Great Khan's yurt, the yurts of various khans and nobles spread out around it.

Like a grid of streets and alleys laid across the grasslands.

A city forged of heavy cavalry and yurts stood firm upon the grasslands; at its heart, the grandest yurt reflected the sun's light, radiating a golden glow—that was the Great Khan's Golden Yurt of the Turkic people.

Li Guanyi's yuan shen faintly heard a voice.

"What? Our envoys were killed?"

"And they sent back their heads?! Infuriating, infuriating! That weakling dared humiliate us so— I shall go before the Great Khan and demand he raise the Tie Futu to crush that nation into dust!"

"I shall be like the heroes of our grasslands—plunder their homes and lands, trample their ancestral soil, rape their women before their men's eyes, and slay every male taller than a cartwheel!"

"I shall lay the cartwheel sideways!"

The greatest hero of the grasslands once said.

His greatest joy in life was to defeat enemies, chase them down, seize all they owned, watch their dearest weep, ride their horses, and take their wives and daughters.

The nature of plunder burned like fire among the tribes of the grasslands.

The Thirteenth Khan was a massive man, sturdy as a grizzly bear; he strode into the war tent, saw the aged Great Khan, knelt on one knee, and said: "Great Khan, grant me permission to raise our blades, crush their cities, plunder their lands."

The Great Khan's gaze fell upon the Thirteenth Khan; he set down the knife used to slice dried meat. His aged eyes remained calm. "You're angry only because he refused your request to marry his daughter."

"You saw the granddaughter of the Merchant Alliance's leader—beautiful, clever, possessing countless gold and treasures—and you want to make her your own, to keep her in your yurt as your secondary Yanzhi, to compete with your dozen other Yanzhi for your favor."

"Then you can brutally seize her businesses, seize the Changfeng Tower, seize the Merchant Alliance that stretches across the Central Plains, the Western Regions, the Southwest, and even the grasslands, gaining endless gold and treasures."

The Thirteenth Khan said: "This is the natural order—women submit to the strong. We have swords and iron steeds; the weak Central Plains people should crawl beneath our blades."

The Great Khan stared at his nephew. Compared to the Seventh Khan, this nephew, who inherited his father's position, was utterly insignificant. He spoke slowly: "The Central Plains must be crushed—such fertile land, entrusted to the Central Plains people, is a waste."

"But when should we strike?"

"We must wait until they fight among themselves, until they exhaust their strength, until no hero rises from their soil—then, and only then, will we step upon this land."

"I've been to their Jiangnan. It truly is a wonderful place."

"Back then, Jiangnan was still part of Chen. I had a dream—to lead my grassland iron cavalry into Jiangnan, to admire its scenery, let my horses drink from its rivers and graze upon its banks, while I loosened the reins and let them wander freely."

"I listened to the songs of Central Plains women carried on the wind, eyes half-closed."

"It was perfect."

The Thirteenth Khan clapped his hands. "I volunteer as your vanguard, leading our warriors to conquer the Central Plains. When we take Jiangnan, I beg you to grant me part of Jiangnan—and that Xue family girl."

Here, within their own yurt, even bold words or boasts drew no laughter; he said: "I shall make the kings of the Central Plains bow their heads, ropes tied around their necks, knees on the ground, led like sheep."

Li Guanyi's attention settled upon the Thirteenth Khan.

A thread of nearly instinctive killing intent rose.

In an instant, as that killing intent passed through him, Li Guanyi suppressed it.

The Thirteenth Khan did not notice—but this place was not inhabited by him alone.

Li Guanyi suddenly felt a metallic chime at his ear; an aged voice spoke:

"Hahahaha! Such a vast Son of Heaven's aura—who among the Central Plains' Emperors has come here? How could I not know? Do the Central Plains possess methods akin to the living Buddha's lineage?!"

The voice was bold and coarse, radiating an unrivaled, arrogant dominance.

Li Guanyi looked up and saw a colossal pillar of aura, like a wolf-smoke, surging skyward, piercing heaven and earth. Beneath it, the aged elder sat upright, slowly rising.

Dressed in black Tie Futu armor, his broad hand gripping the hilt of a great blade, draped in a great cloak, the tent flapped open and his cloak billowed in the wind; his piercing eyes swept left and right.

The mighty hero who unified the entire grasslands and the Turkic people—the strongest divine general of the last era, second only to the Divine General Jiang Su—the Turkic Great Khan!

His eyes lifted, as if sensing, as if seeing Li Guanyi.

In the instant Li Guanyi saw the Turkic Great Khan, he understood.

This grassland divine general, the Great Khan, walked a path similar to Li Guanyi's own.

He condensed human destiny into nine tripods; this Great Khan possessed a similar method—gathering destiny upon himself, seeking to swallow ten thousand li and unify the world.

At its core, it was akin to the Central Plains' Son of Heaven's ultimate art!

Coupled with his own supreme Wu Gong, as the Second Divine General, the Turkic Great Khan was effectively the fusion of Son of Heaven and Divine General—and thus, upon this grassland, he sensed Li Guanyi's thread of killing intent.

Their paths were mutually incompatible.

The Turkic Great Khan knew what his words to the Thirteenth Khan implied; he let out a roaring laugh, drew his weapon, and said:

"Since you've come!"

"Then stay here. This land holds boundless grasslands and endless sky-winds—I shall forge a set of Tie Futu armor, and bind your yuan shen to it!"

The Turkic Great Khan's aura erupted violently; the grasslands' destiny surged, slashing toward Li Guanyi's position with ruthless finality—but in an instant, Li Guanyi heard the ringing of the Nine Tripods, destiny surging skyward.

The power of three Nine Tripods surged; Li Guanyi gripped the Jili Divine Weapon, Iron and Steel.

It transformed into a broad, heavy sword.

Descending from heaven, it slashed downward.

Vast and majestic, like the Central Plains, the grandeur of a great nation.

The two divine weapons clashed.

"Come!"

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