Chapter 111 - 82: Fifth Year of Xuanlong
Chapter 111: Chapter 82: Fifth Year of Xuanlong
"Immortal Skill: Call the Wind and Summon the Rain!"
"Immortal Skill: Dragon Transformation."
The Flame Emperor struck.
Even facing the Wind Snow Sword Immortal, he knew his chances of survival were slim. But still, he attacked.
He still had grand ambitions he had yet to realize.
In an instant.
A fierce wind swept across the sky as rain poured down in a deluge. Countless raindrops transformed into giant dragons, roaring as they charged the Wind Snow Dragon, only to be effortlessly crushed to powder.
A rainy night.
The Flame Emperor, his hair disheveled, lay in a pool of blood.
The gap in their power was too vast.
There would be no miracle.
"Wind Snow Sword Immortal."
The Flame Emperor’s breath was faint, his life hanging by a thread. As death approached, he gazed out at the mountains and rivers, then turned his eyes to Su Chen and asked.
"Where did I go wrong?"
"Did I have to die?"
He had wanted to see the rise of Great Zhou. He had wanted to see the tens of millions of Zhou People, who had toiled in the Land of Cold and Bitterness for over three hundred years, finally live their lives in prosperity.
Was it so wrong to make the Liang People suffer for it?
It was Great Zhou that conquered the realm, after all.
Throughout history, which Great Unified Dynasty hasn’t risen to power in the exact same way?
So why, when it was his turn, was he wrong?
Su Chen fell silent.
’From the perspective of the Zhou People, the Flame Emperor was undoubtedly an enlightened monarch. He loved his subjects as if they were his own children, always keeping them in his heart. He wouldn’t even hesitate to kill his own father to follow the path he believed in.’
But he was not one of the Zhou People.
"I am one of the Liang People."
Su Chen replied.
"I suppose it is."
The Flame Emperor gave a self-deprecating laugh.
He gazed out at the vast land, his eyes filled with regret.
He had boundless ambition and was on the verge of soaring to the heavens, but he had encountered the Wind Snow Sword Immortal. Now, he would die in obscurity in Jinjiang City.
But he did not regret it.
This was the conviction of his youth, the path he had chosen to walk.
The people of Great Zhou had suffered for too long.
Why shouldn’t they have a chance at a better life?
’Even in death, it would only mean he had been defeated, not that he had been wrong! The one who was wrong was still my father, the Xuanlong Emperor, who abandoned tens of millions of Zhou People and chose Great Liang!’
"Sword Immortal, I entrust the Zhou People to you..."
A smile touched the Flame Emperor’s lips.
The wind and rain subsided. The sun set.
The Flame Emperor was dead.
He had been Emperor for three years, and in his wake, he left a realm in chaos, a bitter conflict between Zhou and Liang, and a vast territory in shambles.
Was he a foolish ruler?
Su Chen didn’t know.
"Your Majesty."
Tears streamed down old Sikong’s face as he stumbled forward, trembling. He wailed, combing the Flame Emperor’s hair and straightening his robes.
He made him look like a dignified Emperor, even in death.
A heavy silence fell over the scene.
"Lord Su!"
"The tens of millions of Zhou People will see you as their mortal enemy. It will be a battle to the death."
"And I as well."
Sikong’s voice was raw with grief.
"Cyan Fruit, oh Cyan Fruit!"
"Why did I eat that Cyan Fruit of yours? It’s my fault His Majesty is dead!"
"If only I had known..."
"I would have been better off dying at the bottom of the cliff outside the Imperial Mausoleum."
In silence, he shouldered the Flame Emperor’s body and began to walk north.
That was the direction of Old Zhou—a bitter, cold, and desolate land. It was where tens of millions of Zhou People were born and died, and it was the very place the Flame Emperor had wanted to lead them away from.
One hundred thousand armored soldiers gathered in silence.
They stared with rage and hatred at the Sword Immortal in the Muddy World Profound Robe, the man who stood atop the Wind Snow Dragon!
"Avenge the Emperor!"
Someone roared.
The roar was answered by an overwhelming chorus.
"Kill the Sword Immortal! Avenge the Emperor!"
Countless men wept for the Flame Emperor.
Icy long spears lunged at Su Chen, one after another.
"ROAR!"
The Wind Snow Dragon roared.
Wherever it passed, blizzards raged and the ground frosted over. Hundreds, then thousands, of armored soldiers were turned into ice sculptures before shattering into shards of ice.
Yet not a single one retreated.
"Why did you kill our Monarch!"
One hundred thousand armored soldiers charged as one. None retreated. Even with a wasteland of lethal frost before them, they still marched to their deaths.
Even facing the one rumored to be the greatest cultivator in the world, not a single soldier showed any fear.
Their Emperor had died at his hands.
They would meet their death!
It was only death!
What was there to fear?
One hundred thousand soldiers surged forward like an unstoppable tide.
’Why... Why is it like this?’
Su Chen didn’t understand.
At this moment, standing atop the Wind Snow Dragon, he moved through the hundred-thousand-strong army, unstoppable. And yet, he felt like a defeated general.
He had come to bring peace to the people of the realm.
These soldiers were people, too.
And they were weeping.
For the Flame Emperor.
’Was I wrong?’
Su Chen had thought that by killing the Flame Emperor, another Xuanlong Emperor would rise, and the people of the realm would know peace, just as they had in the first year of Xuanlong.
But he was wrong.
In the first year of Xuanlong, some had still suffered in sorrow. They were the Zhou People.
Lost in a daze, as if in a dream.
He seemed to see it all: the distant Old Zhou, the Land of Cold and Bitterness where not even a blade of grass would grow. He saw countless starving Zhou People gazing up at the newly enthroned Flame Emperor, their eyes filled with hope for a new life.
Su Chen fled.
He fled in utter disarray.
The last time he had fled so wretchedly was at the Imperial Mausoleum, facing the Immortals from the tombs. But this time was different. The hundred thousand soldiers were like ants before him. They couldn’t withstand a single Burial Star strike, and he could have annihilated them all with a single sweep.
And still he fled, in even greater disarray than before.
’It turned out he understood nothing at all.’
’He didn’t understand the Flame Emperor.’
’He didn’t understand the realm.’
’And he didn’t understand the people.’
"Take His Majesty home."
An old man in Silver Armor said.
"Send His Majesty home!"
The hundred-thousand-strong army wept and wailed. All donned white mourning silk, shouldered the coffin, and escorted the Flame Emperor on his final journey back to Zhou.
On this day, the eyes of the realm were watching.
The Flame Emperor had fallen!
Across the Ten Prefectures of Old Zhou, entire cities were draped in white. White mourning silks fluttered in the wind as tens of millions of Zhou People gathered spontaneously outside their city walls, watching for the return of the Flame Emperor’s coffin.
"So, this descendant of mine was truly beloved by the people."
"He should have just focused on his cultivation."
"He might have even been able to borrow the fortune of his Dynasty to truly reach the very peak of the Qi Cultivation Immortal Tier."
"What a pity."
"The masses are but ants, the mortal world a fleeting dream. He went astray, taking these commoners to heart. He failed to realize that only Longevity, an eternal existence, is what’s truly real."
「In Jinjiang City.」
A skeletal old man, riding atop a giant snake, sped toward the Imperial Capital.
The Grand Ancestor of Zhou had returned to the court!
The realm was pacified.
Henceforth, Great Zhou had but one Emperor remaining: Jie.