He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

The young man didn't stop walking, and his expression didn't change much.

"According to the rumors, the head of the Zhu family has gained the approval of the gods."

The white-haired old man's voice was low, tinged with worry.

"That's the Jade Emperor, the third-ranking deity."

"Once the news gets out, it won't be easy to explain to the Patrol Division."

He paused.

"Furthermore... Your Highness, your method is far too despicable."

"You've always been unable to gain recognition, and with this method, it's even less likely you'll get it."

The young man suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He stood there, his back to the white-haired old man, his shoulders slightly tense.

The white-haired old man couldn't see his expression, but he could hear his breathing become heavy for a moment.

Then the young man turned around.

His face had lost the composure and calmness he had displayed in the council chamber; instead, it showed a barely suppressed rage.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, and the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

"Do you think I don't want to?" His voice was low, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"I was at the ninth level at twenty, and at the peak of demigod at thirty, just one step away from becoming a true god."

"In the entire human empire, I am the only one of this age and level."

"I am the number one prodigy of the human empire. No one works harder than me, and no one fights harder than me."

His voice was trembling.

"But on what grounds?"

He looked up at the white-haired old man, whose eyes were filled with a kind of almost insane obsession.

"I almost died three times when I was injected with the No. 2 divine blood."

"I made it through."

"I have merged."

"I got it."

"But that god never even glanced at me."

His lips were trembling.

Not even once.

The white-haired old man remained silent; he was not the true god sent by the empire.

He had been by the Emperor's side for decades, watching him grow from a boy into a peak demigod, and watching him cultivate diligently, comprehend, and try to gain the attention of that god day after day.

But that deity never responded.

It's as if it never existed at all.

"That six-year-old child did nothing, experienced nothing, and just because he was lucky, he successfully fused with the blood of God No. 2. Just because he was lucky, the gods recognized him?"

His voice carried an almost hoarse sense of resentment.

"On what grounds?"

"So I'm going to prove it to him."

The young man turned around and continued walking forward, his steps faster and heavier than before.

"I just want that god to know that even without his approval, I can ascend to the throne and become the sole emperor of the human empire."

His voice echoed through the corridor.

The white-haired old man sighed and did not try to persuade him further.

The middle-aged man next to him remained silent from beginning to end, following quietly without daring to utter a single word.

……

The Zhu Family Council Hall.

A dozen elders sat around a long table, with a thick stack of battle reports piled up in front of them, but not one of them had a smile on their face.

Zhu Changfeng stared at the resource consumption figures on the battle report, his fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on the table for a long time before he sighed.

The Second Elder, Zhu Changhe, looked at the battle report three times over, then slammed it on the table, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temples with his eyes closed.

After a while, Zhu Heng, who was in charge of the resource repository, couldn't hold back any longer. He pushed the battle report forward, his voice filled with barely suppressed heartache.

"Three space carriers, 100,000 warships, operating at full capacity for seven days."

"The red crystal burned down four large warehouses, and used up a full tenth of all energy materials..."

He paused, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"In total, it would be enough to support the entire Zhu family for a full century during their heyday."

There was a moment of silence in the council chamber.

Then several elders sighed at the same time.

"We won, but this wasn't a war; it was a war of money."

"The combined wealth of all those small families wouldn't even amount to a fraction of what's left."

"That's right. Just the moment the main cannon of the Changli Sky Ship charged up was enough to buy the entire ancestral land of the Zhao family."

"This account is unbearable to look at; the more I look at it, the more my heart aches."

The dozen or so elders spoke one after another, but they all came up with the same point.

That's a huge loss.

It hurts to lose money like this.

Yun Yi sat in the main seat, with the battle report spread out in front of him and a pen in his hand, occasionally writing something on the edge of the report.

He listened to the elders' complaints without even looking up.

He put down his pen and glanced at them as the noise subsided.

"Are you done talking?"

Zhu Changfeng opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Yun Yi leaned back in his chair, his tone indifferent.

"Resources are meant to be used, not worshipped."

He picked up the battle report and flipped through it casually.

"Since you can't use those resources anyway, why not use them all for war?"

The lips of more than a dozen elders twitched simultaneously.

It's unusable.

But just looking at the resources consumed makes my heart ache.

Especially now, as elders of the Zhu family, these resources should rightfully be allocated to them.

Now that this battle is going on and resources are being depleted, they will have even less to distribute.

Zhu Changfeng inwardly groaned, but dared not say it aloud.

He glanced furtively at the expressions of the other elders and noticed that they all looked similar, their lips twitching, clearly indicating that they had also considered this possibility.

But no one dared to speak.

When the six-year-old patriarch's gaze swept over them, the overwhelming imperial pressure made them swallow back all their words.

Seeing their worried faces and their reluctance to speak, Yun Yi was too lazy to explain.

There are some things they can't understand, and that doesn't matter.

He doesn't need them to understand, he only needs them to execute.

Just as the atmosphere in the council chamber was tense, footsteps sounded outside the door.

Unhurried and unhurried, but each step carries an extremely heavy weight.

More than a dozen elders looked up at the same time.

The door was pushed open.

An old figure walked in.

He looked to be in his seventies, tall and thin, with a slightly hunched back, wearing a faded gray robe with frayed edges on the cuffs and collar.

His white hair was casually tied back, and his face was covered with wrinkles of varying depths, but his eyes were unusually bright, so bright that he didn't look like an old man.

His breath was very faint, so faint that it was almost imperceptible.

But the moment he stepped into the council hall, all the elders stood up at the same time and bowed in unison.

"Elder!"

Zhu Wutong.

The only demigod still alive among the direct descendants of the Zhu family.

He is also the strongest demigod among the direct descendants of the Zhu family.

Peak demigod.

He is only one step away from becoming a true god.

The third deity, Vermilion Bird, awakens, and ninety percent of the direct descendants of the Zhu family die suddenly. The patriarch and all the direct descendants above the level of demigod have perished.

Only Zhu Wutong survived.

He was the only direct descendant of the Zhu family to survive that calamity.

He was also considered by the entire Zhu family to be the most promising candidate to break through to the True God realm and become the second True God in the Zhu family.

He walked into the council chamber, his gaze sweeping over the elders present, finally settling on the six-year-old child in the main seat.