Chapter 669 - To Lay Down Arms Is True Strength, and So He Sleeps Again - Part 3

A god sat alone in the dark, but his thoughts drifted far from divinity, back to a snowy night in the world of men.

Back when he had rushed about, tangled in struggles that, looking back now, were no more than the buzzing of ants.

Back then, there were barely a few days each month when he could make it home, to be with Sheng’er and Ping’an, who were still learning to walk...to spend time with Yan Yu and Xue Ning, still busy running their tavern and teahouse.

If given the chance to do it all over again, he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. The times had left him no choice.

But truthfully, what he loved most...wasn’t it exactly

those

fleeting, ordinary days?

If...if everything truly does fall apart, if we reach the worst possible outcome...

A sharp pain cut through the god’s heart like a blade. But he quickly tilted his head back and breathed in—whether it was selfish or cruel no longer mattered.

Without bonds, everything becomes meaningless dust. Then so be it. Let’s pretend to be a mortal again, and start over.

Half-drenched in worldly dust, still chasing the mysteries of transcendence, the god closed his eyes.

The 36 lotus petals unfurled in bloom.

Light from the lotus cast a pale glow on the god’s cold cheeks.

Mortals dreamt of becoming gods.

And gods...sometimes just wanted to be mortal.

This sleep, this slumber, was no different from a journey by train.

Only, the scenery flashing past the windows wasn’t of towns and trees, but of

time

itself.

It was like nodding off. And when he opened his eyes again, the world outside would no longer be the one he knew. The era would change.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Time slipped by. A bone-deep exhaustion overtook Li Yuan.

The terrible power he had summoned surged far beyond the limits of any earthly vessel. Not even one forged in the mold of a celestial could contain it.

And when the very last second of the 24th hour struck, his vessel crumbled to ashes in the dark.

Li Yuan shut his eyes.

His final glimpse was of a brand-new countdown beginning. But he didn’t catch the numbers. That, it seemed, would have to wait until he woke again.

The dense spiritual energy enveloping the chamber was like a master passing down their life's cultivation with a single palm pressed to your crown.

And slowly, the two soul iron puppets, ancient relics of a forgotten age, began to stir.

Their vitality didn’t just return. It soared.

This puppet family of the Tang Sect, the same ones who had once emerged from beyond the Sword Mountain Pass, had long since healed Tang Nian using every herb, every method they could find.

To them, she wasn’t just a noble lady. She was their creator. Their kin. Their master.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Much, much later, Tang Eleven opened her eyes.

They were massive, inhuman, and gleamed with power.

Towering over ten meters tall, the puppet she now inhabited was nothing short of terrifying.

And yet, she felt stronger than ever, like she’d fully regained her peak fifth rank might.

Kak, kak, kak...

She flexed her new body...or rather, her

two

bodies, the puppet shell and the puppet within.

Everything was functioning perfectly.

“Your Majesty?” she called softly.

No answer, as expected.

“My Lady?” she called again.

Silence followed as well.

Her voice echoed in the hollow, icy base of the tower...but the stillness only made the silence more absolute.

She was technically just a puppet.

But in this moment, Tang Eleven felt the weight of an overwhelming purpose pressing down on her metal shoulders.

Without a word, she bent down and picked up the last things Li Yuan had left behind, his two blades.

Then she turned and pushed open the heavy iron door.

𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

A soft light spilled in, gentle, not blinding.

Step by step, she ascended the stairs of the central tower. At the ninth level, she paused and looked out into the distance.

Snow swirled in the air, whipped by fierce winds. The mountain peaks were cloaked in white.

A vast, wintry world awaited.

With a light leap, she crossed the towering cliff in a single bound and landed on the other side.

Amidst the falling snow, the Tang Sect disciples on guard were startled, immediately preparing for battle until a commanding voice echoed from within the massive puppet:

“It’s me.”

Just two words, but enough. Every disciple dropped to their knees, shouting in unison, “Greetings, Madam Bright Moon!”

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Spring of the following year.

A towering palanquin, over ten meters tall, appeared before the gates of the Tang Sect.

It was borne not by men, but by eight mechanical puppets.

Outside the palanquin stood eight hundred Tang Sect disciples in perfect formation.

Hundreds more had already gone ahead to clear the road.

And Madam Bright Moon...had finally descended the mountain.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Two months later.

That same mobile fortress of a palanquin appeared beneath the walls of the Central Capital.

But the former imperial capital was already on its last legs. Patrols on the walls no longer consisted of soldiers alone. Many were civilians in tattered clothes, men and women alike, their eyes hollow with despair. Wounded, maimed, barely upright, they still clung to duty.

Outside the city, more and more rebel forces gathered by the day.

The end was near. The capital, with all its centuries of glory since the days of the Human Emperor, was about to fall into blood and fire.

The so-called

righteous

rebel alliance no longer had anything to do with righteousness. They were little more than bandits wrapped in the flag of justice.

“Attack the city!”

“We’ll breach it within three days!”

“Hahaha!”

...

Some generals of the Divine Dominion were already planning their victory feast.

They had made arrangements to celebrate inside the imperial palace. They would make the noble concubines sit on their laps, pour their wine, and warm their beds.

They wanted to defile this ancient city with brute force and debauchery. To crush the proud nobles who once lorded over them, and make them kneel like slaves.

So long had they fought and endured that even the Divine Sovereign had issued a decree.

“If the city falls, the soldiers may have three days to do as they please.”

It was the ultimate drug.

The

Divine Soldiers

were wild with anticipation, waiting like wolves for the gates to come crashing down.

But just then, something monstrous arrived.

A palanquin so massive it looked like it carried giants. It rolled between the rebel army and the capital, separating the two like a wall.

The Tang Sect uniforms were easy to recognize, and there were many among the rebels who knew exactly what they meant.

Soon, one of the Divine Generals rode out with his troops to confront them.

But the Tang forces gave no reply.

Instead, a single blade was thrown from the palanquin.

A mechanical puppet stepped forward, lifting the blade high. The disciple controlling it shouted loud and clear.

“Cease fire!”

The Divine General glanced at the blade and recognized it immediately.

It was Young Lord Yu’s saber.

Then, a voice came from within the massive palanquin.

“This is the will of Young Lord Yu...of the Primordial Emperor... and of the Grand Matron of the Tang Sect.”

This war had already devastated the land, and would only drag the world further into chaos. But who could stop it?

The Divine General froze, then let out a booming laugh.

“We respect the Divine Monarch,” he said. “But if he expects us to spit out meat already in our mouths, then I’m afraid... that’s just not going to happen.”

From the direction of the Tang Sect, there was only silence.

Then, in the very next instant, the curtain of the palanquin was lifted and something leapt out.

A towering shadow, terrifying in its strength, shot through the air like a descending god. It loomed over the battlefield, casting its gaze upon every single rebel soldier below.

An overwhelming pressure, something far beyond the grasp of this era, crashed down like a tidal wave. Ordinary people gasped as though drowning, struggling to breathe. Even their hearts faltered under the weight.

The Divine General, who moments ago had boldly declared the impossible, fell from his horse in sheer terror. His whole body trembled, eyes wide with panic and despair, staring up at the figure in the sky he could never hope to defeat.

A voice, calm and indifferent, came from the puppet’s chest.

“What did you just say?” Tang Eleven asked.

A simple question, yet it thundered like divine judgment.

The Divine General wet himself on the spot. In a trembling voice, he mumbled, “P-possible...it’s entirely... possible...”

In an age where formal armies had fallen into disuse, a fifth rank cultivator alone could slaughter ten thousand soldiers.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Autumn of the following year.

In the Western Capital of the Divine Dominion, the Divine Sovereign sat upon his throne.

Above him, a blade hung, gleaming coldly.

In the Jade Capital of the Great Zhou, the usurper Ying Mo perished amidst the chaos of a rebellion. A new emperor, young and visibly shaken, took the throne. As he sat on the dragon throne, uneasy and stiff, he looked up, only to see the blade’s edge aimed directly at his throat.

Beside him sat a familiar face to the court, the newly-appointed head of the Li Clan, Li Mingze.

After court was dismissed, Li Mingze personally escorted the envoy of the Tang Sect out of the palace.

The previous winter, Tang Eleven had descended upon the Jade Capital in her ten-foot-tall divine puppet form, leading three thousand elite disciples. They had stormed the city like a bolt of lightning, wresting control from the chaos.

The Li Clan, having pieced together the true story through the intelligence network of Heaven’s Quill, acted swiftly, mobilizing their forces and returning to the capital to control the situation.

To show their sincerity to Tang Eleven, the Li Clan presented the image of their founding ancestor, enshrined at the highest altar in their ancestral shrine.

Tang Eleven, understanding the Li Clan’s origins and knowing the will of Li Yuan, accepted their support. To stabilize the realm, she allowed the Li Clan to take on the role of regents.

And so...Li Mingze rose to power.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Far away, a dim glow flickered in another realm.

In the realm of reincarnation, souls still resembled the forms they held in life. Heads bowed, they trudged forward in an endless line, waiting their turn.

The Soul Furnace burned slower and slower now.

Among the crowd, a figure in red moved quietly, blending into the line of ghosts.

Far at the back, two new souls joined the procession, Bai Xinxuan and Meng Xingxian. In the end, they hadn’t made it to second rank.

And on the bridge of flesh and blood, the only one left sitting was a dazed, forgotten soul, Ping’an. He no longer knew the day, nor himself.

The residents of the underworld stared up at the heavens. The souls of mortals marched one by one into the fire.

But the furnace was beginning to falter.

Crack!

Another soul, still holding fragments of its past life, was flung out of the faulty furnace, untouched by flame. It tumbled down into the path of reincarnation, spiraling toward rebirth.

And if one stretched the timeline far enough, they would find this was no longer an isolated case.

In other words, the mortal world was about to be flooded...with

reincarnators

.