Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

The East China Sea, golden warships.

The King of the East Sea stood on the stern deck, gazing at the slowly closing sea in the direction of Penglai Island. The island had completely sunk, leaving only a huge whirlpool slowly rotating on the surface, its center faintly glowing with a dark golden light.

An attendant emerged from the cabin and whispered, "Your Majesty, there's movement at the imperial mausoleum. The aura of the Demon God Lü is leaking out, and people within a hundred miles are kneeling in submission."

The King of the East Sea did not turn around, still gazing at the whirlpool. The sea breeze whipped his gray hair backward, and his robes fluttered in the wind.

"Lu the Demon God..." He chewed on the name, as if savoring a bowl of extremely bitter medicine. "A hundred years ago, a fierce man who avenged his father by flattening the Underworld Palace, sat in the imperial tomb for a hundred years, only to wake up to find the world no longer the one he knew. Tell me, what do you think would be the first thing he did upon opening his eyes—continue guarding the dragon throne for the Qin family, or...?"

He paused for a long time.

"Let's first see what's pressed behind the gate to Penglai Island."

The attendant dared not respond.

The King of the East Sea turned around, his face bearing that signature gentle smile, but the fanaticism in his eyes had not completely faded.

Order the seventy-two islands to gather all available ships in this area. When Penglai Island re-emerges within seven days, I will let the entire East Sea know—who truly reigns supreme over this sea.

He paused, then added, "Also, send a letter to Ten Thousand Snake Island, to that Wheel-Turning King. Write only one sentence in the letter—"

"'I, Wang, will be visiting the island again in seven days, and I hope you will be there as well.'"

Deep in the northern grasslands.

Inside the Golden Clan's main tent, the Heavenly Khan lay on a tiger-skin rug, his chest wound still sealed with a magical medicine.

After being severely wounded by Dongfang Wudi's sword, he retreated in a sorry state back to the grasslands and has not dared to take another step south since. Suddenly, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside the tent. A scout dismounted and rushed into the tent, lying down to report urgently.

"Great Khan! A crack has appeared in the southeastern sky above the Central Plains, indicating the loosening of an ancient seal! There are also unusual movements deep within the imperial tomb, suggesting the awakening of the Demon God Lü!"

The Khan suddenly propped himself up, the movement aggravating his wounds. He groaned and fell back onto the mattress. But his hawk-like eyes suddenly lit up.

"The Demon God Lü... has awakened?"

The scout nodded.

The Khan closed his eyes, and a sinister smile slowly crept onto his lips.

"Qin Muzhi, if the Demon God Lü that your father left you awakens, will you still be able to sit comfortably on that dragon throne? Issue orders to all departments to reorganize the troops. The day the Demon God Lü truly emerges from seclusion will be the day my Golden Clan marches south for the second time."

The north wind howled outside the tent, causing the tent flaps to flutter up and down, revealing the dark horizon at the edge of the grassland.

There, the dark red light had not yet dissipated.

Three miles away from the imperial mausoleum.

Zhao Chengying stood on a low hill, gazing at the imperial mausoleum with the eyesight of a Grandmaster at the ninth level.

He dared not approach any closer—the closer he got to the bronze gate, the heavier the oppressive aura became, and even a cultivator of his level felt his chest tighten.

Hundreds of guards knelt on the stone steps outside the imperial mausoleum, most of them unconscious.

Only a few people managed to maintain their kneeling position, but their bodies were trembling like leaves.

After the seal script on the bronze door crumbled in three places, it fell silent. But the aura leaking from the crack in the door grew stronger and stronger, like a sleeping giant unconsciously exhaling a breath of stale air before turning over.

Zhao Chengying slowly withdrew his gaze, turned around, and left.

Not far behind him, another figure also silently retreated.

The man was dressed in a grayish-brown close-fitting outfit. His face was so ordinary that he would be lost in a crowd, but his footwork was extremely exquisite. He landed silently, and even someone with Zhao Chengying's cultivation level could not detect him.

The man in gray retreated to a dense forest three miles away and took out a small bronze sparrow from his robes. The sparrow opened its beak and emitted a very soft chirp—then flew off in a certain direction.

When the bronze sparrow landed on the eaves of a desolate mountain temple five hundred miles away, there were three people sitting inside.

Blood Shadow Elder of the Heavenly Demon Sect, Sect Master of the Four Extremes Sword Sect, and Head of the Chu Family.

All three saw the message brought by Tongque, and in silence, they each picked up their teacups and took a sip. The tea had gone cold, but no one paid any attention.

"The aura of the Demon God Lü has leaked out."

The Blood Shadow Elder set down his teacup, his voice hoarse like the grinding of gravel, "The man who slaughtered his way through the world a hundred years ago is now half-asleep, half-awake. Shall we still go?"

The sect leader of the Four Extremes Sword Sect was a middle-aged man with a lean face. Upon hearing this, he said calmly:

"Go. A century-long plan is all on this one trip; not going would mean all our previous efforts are wasted. Besides..."

He looked up towards the imperial mausoleum. "The Demon God Lü has only awakened; he hasn't emerged from his coffin yet. By the time he truly comes out, we'll have already entered the mausoleum."

The head of the Chu family was a silent old woman who didn't say a word from beginning to end. She simply drank the cold tea in her cup in one gulp, then got up, picked up a bundle, and walked out of the deserted temple.

The other two exchanged a glance, then got up and followed.

As the three figures disappeared at the end of the desolate mountain path, another gray feather appeared on the roof of the wild temple—

A carrier pigeon had just left the eaves and flew off in the southeast direction.

East China Sea, Wanshe Island.

After settling Song Que and the other two into the quiet room to heal their injuries, Shi Zhixuan stood alone on the dock, the warmth of the dark golden power he had used when striking the stone gate still lingering in his palm.

He repeatedly examined his palm; the tiny wound had a faint golden glow at its edges and was slowly healing, but it seemed as if something had been implanted deep inside the wound.

"The Wheel-Turning King."

A guard from the underworld strode out of the mist and handed over a secret letter. It was sealed with wax and had no signature, but the paper and creases had a style that Shi Zhixuan recognized—it was the young master's handwriting.

He took it apart.

The letter contained only one line:

"The aura of the Demon God Lu from the Imperial Mausoleum is leaking out, and various forces are beginning to converge on the Imperial Mausoleum."

The Penglai Gate is about to open, and two routes are operating simultaneously. I cannot go to the imperial mausoleum myself; you will go in my place. On the East Sea side, have the three kings hold out for seven days; I will arrange for new people to come.

Shi Zhixuan folded the letter and put it in his pocket. He stared at the whirlpool on the sea for a moment, then smiled.

"Young master, you've indeed thought this through thoroughly." He turned and beckoned to a soldier from the underworld, "Prepare the boat. I need to return inland."

The armored soldier was taken aback: "King of the Wheel, you're not guarding Penglai anymore?"

"Defend it." Shi Zhixuan brushed the dust from his palms. "The imperial mausoleum is the place where failing to defend it will lead to disaster. As for Penglai—"

He turned to look at the dark golden light pattern at the center of the whirlpool on the sea.

"Seven days. The door won't be open for these seven days, but I can leave. I'll definitely be back after seven days."

He jumped onto the small awning boat, and with a push of the bamboo pole, he plunged into the mist.

A moment later, another carrier pigeon took off from the Wanshe Island dock and sped off toward Pingyang County.