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

Seven days later.

The northern route, the Bailangyuan Pass.

Guan Qi led 30,000 elite Qinglong Society troops to confront 200,000 barbarian cavalry head-on.

Guan Qi, wielding a long spear, charged in and out of the army seven times. His cultivation, at the peak of the ninth level of the Grandmaster realm, was nearly half a step into the Celestial Realm due to the surge in spiritual energy. Wherever his spear passed, the golden wolf banners billowed like a tide.

The barbarian Khan personally took action—he was a burly man over fifty years old, shrouded in golden light, and with one punch, half of the mountain wall at the pass collapsed.

Guan Qi was forced back thirty feet, coughing up blood but not retreating. He then used his spear to knock away the Heavenly Khan's golden wolf crown. The two were locked in a stalemate, neither able to advance an inch.

Southern Front. When Shi Zhixuan led the Five Kings of the Underworld to Jiangnan, Zen Master Liaochen of Wanfo Temple was sitting cross-legged on the mountaintop, his body radiating Buddhist light like a waterfall, firmly blocking the first wave of demons from the Southern Frontier in front of the mountain.

The ground was covered with the corpses of thousands of demon soldiers. Liao Chen's cassock was stained with black blood, but his face remained calm.

Shi Zhixuan didn't waste any words with him. He led the Five Kings to cut in from the flank and severed the Demon Clan's vanguard command flag with a single strike.

The demon army retreated thirty miles to the entrance of the passage. Liao Chen opened his eyes, glanced at Shi Zhixuan, said, "Your swordsmanship is quite good," and then closed his eyes again to chant scriptures.

On the eastern front, the battle at Lianyunling lasted three days and three nights. Wu Zetian's black battle robe was soaked in demon blood and dried again, seven or eight times in total.

There were more than a dozen corpses of demon generals lying at her feet, but the Demon Emperor himself was there—a nine-tailed fox with a pure white body, sitting on a cloud with seductive eyes, a great demon in the mid-stage of the Celestial Realm.

Pang Ban rode the waves and struck the Nine-Tailed Fox in the face with a palm strike. The waves stirred up by his palm strike covered half of the sky.

The nine-tailed fox smiled, its nine tails unleashed, and the two forces at the mid-stage of the Celestial Realm collided, causing half of the Lianyun Ridge to collapse.

Wu Zetian stood up from the ruins, drew her sword, glanced at Pang Ban, and said only two words: "Reinforcements?" Pang Ban nodded. Wu Zetian then drew her sword again and charged back into the battle.

And the western front.

The core area of ​​spiritual energy that the Blood Moon Demon Sect was determined to obtain was taken away on a moonlit night.

There was no large army. There was no major battle.

When Dongfang Weiwo walked into the center of the Blood Moon Demon Sect's 70,000-strong army camp, all the demon soldiers were stunned.

Then someone recognized him—the young man who, half a year ago, had suppressed all the prodigies of the Eastern Continent with a single sword strike at the Yangzhou Sword Tournament. Some gasped, some drew their swords, and some retreated.

Then Dongfang Weiwo raised his hand.

The moment he raised his hand, the moonlight across the entire wasteland seemed to freeze. A dark golden beam of light shot up from his palm, piercing straight into the radiant light of the heavens at the core of the spiritual energy.

The two beams of light intertwined, merged, and surged, transforming into a towering light curtain over a hundred feet thick, enveloping the spiritual energy core within a radius of a thousand miles.

Inside the light screen, the concentration of spiritual energy instantly tripled.

Outside the light screen, the 70,000 demon soldiers were pushed back three steps by the dark golden light.

By the time the demon army had regained its footing, a person was already standing in front of the light screen.

He wore dark robes, his eyes gleaming with a subtle golden light, and a long, cloth-wrapped sword hung at his waist. His aura was as deep and unfathomable as an abyss, unfathomable even to the seventy thousand demon soldiers who searched him.

"This land," Dongfang Weiwo's voice echoed across the entire wasteland, "I've claimed it."

Within the demon army, some sneered, some roared, and some drew their swords to charge. But suddenly, an aged voice rang out from behind the ranks. It wasn't loud, but it made all the demon soldiers stop in their tracks.

"retreat."

Deep within the military camp, a blood-red figure slowly rose. The old man, with white hair and beard, wore a dark red robe, surrounded by a blood aura like flames, and his deep-set eyes shone like two lamps.

Peak of Celestial Beings.

Dongfang Weiwo looked at him through the light barrier. His gaze was as deep as an abyss; an ordinary grandmaster would kneel down on the spot upon being looked at by him.

But Dongfang Weiwo remained unmoved. He stood before the light barrier, the power of his Demon-Sealing Bloodline surging within him like a great river, resonating in unison with the barrier. He had activated the spiritual vein light barrier using the key power of his Demon-Sealing Bloodline—the radiant light of heaven and earth at the core of spiritual energy was locked away and possessed by him. To break through this light barrier, he would have to be killed.

"Your surname is Dongfang," the old man said, his voice like sandpaper grinding against an iron plate.

"I am the only one in the East."

The old man remained silent for a long time. His blood-red eyes slowly narrowed in the night wind, and finally he only uttered one sentence:

I owe your father a life. I will spare your life today. But I will take this land back sooner or later.

As soon as he finished speaking, the crimson figure sank back into the depths of the military camp. The 70,000 demon troops began to retreat, orderly withdrawing from the middle of the wasteland and returning to the Blood Moon Demon Sect's mountain gate defense line.

Dongfang Weiwo stood before the light screen, watching the demon army depart, and suddenly exhaled a breath of stale air. His back was already soaked with cold sweat.

Peak Celestial Realm. Those who truly stand at the pinnacle of martial arts on the Tianxuan Continent. If that old man had made a move just now, with his current cultivation level, he could only withstand three moves at most. After three moves, he would surely die.

He won the bet. Because the old man owed his father a life.

"I'm leaving," he said, turning to Bai Yujing behind him.

Bai Yujing had been standing in the shadows of the light barrier, his hand gripping the sword, veins bulging, ready to fight to the death. Hearing this, he loosened his fingers and silently followed.

Two figures walked side by side into the depths of the light curtain.

On the seventh day after the fusion of heaven and earth, all three spiritual energy cores entered a stalemate.

No force can win quickly, and no force is willing to back down.

The entire Tianxuan Continent fell into a strange balance—the seven armies confronted each other under the three pillars of light, neither daring to make the first move nor daring to relax their guard.

When the news that Dongfang Weiwo had occupied the spiritual core on the west side reached Dongzhou, one of the lights in Wangjiang Tower in Yangzhou City went out.

Inside the command tent of the Loyalist Alliance, Qin Lin'an crushed the jade thumb ring he had been playing with, stared at the red dot marked "West" on the geomantic map, remained silent for a long time, and then said to those around him, "He's one step ahead of me."

At Wanfo Temple, Zen Master Liaochen opened his eyes to look at the western dawn, then closed them again and continued chanting sutras.

At the Zhenwu Dao Sect, the withered old man pushed open the stone door to his secluded retreat, looked westward, and uttered only one word: "Wait."

The four sword masters of the Four Extremes Sword Sect all looked westward, each gripping their sword hilts before releasing them.

Inside the Azure Dragon Society's headquarters, the three dragon leaders looked at the newly descending dark golden light curtain on the feng shui map, suddenly smiled, and turned to the hall masters, saying, "The Great Dragon Leader has succeeded. It's our turn."

The six-month ceasefire has ended.

On a new continent, a new game of chess has just begun.

Night. The lights of Yangzhou City flickered in the distance like dying fireflies, while the inner courtyard of the Azure Dragon Society's headquarters was shrouded in thick darkness.

His palms faced upwards, and the power of his bloodline surged beneath his skin like a deep sea, each pulse creating a visible ripple in the spiritual energy within the room.

After occupying the core of spiritual energy on the west side, he used the resonance of the heaven and earth's radiance as a hammer and himself as an anvil, repeatedly forging the foundation of his Qi Sea for seven days and seven nights. At this moment, every wisp of internal energy was as heavy as lead and mercury and as dense as silkworm silk.

The new power born from the fusion of his dark gold bloodline and the "Heavenly Man's Treasure Book" meandered through his meridians. With each complete cycle, it was like an invisible chisel widening the meridian walls inward—he had long been accustomed to that slow and continuous tearing sensation.

At this moment, he was doing something he hadn't attempted during his six months of seclusion: touching the core of the system.

After the spiritual energy surged thirtyfold, the summoning system, which had been dormant for many years, finally began to undergo subtle but real changes, like frozen soil touched by a spring breeze.

Dongfang Wei Neng could clearly perceive a barrier deep within his consciousness slowly dissolving—that barrier, which had stood for a long time and was as thick as a heavy iron gate, was now cracking under the scouring of the spiritual tide, as if a door that had been sealed for thousands of years was finally being pushed open a crack.

He closed his eyes and sank down.

Consciousness plunged into a vast, chaotic ocean. Countless points of light flowed like the Milky Way, and between their flickering glows, it seemed as if billions of living beings were whispering.

In the past, when summoning, the system would only display a blurry outline for him to choose based on a vague "compatibility". But this time it was completely different - in the deepest part of that sea of ​​light, three exceptionally bright orbs were slowly spinning, each emitting an aura that was like a completely different world.

A blazing sun, as intense as it had fallen to earth, burned his brow even through the barrier of consciousness;

One thunderbolt was fierce and powerful, shaking the very soul; another was deep and profound, like an ancient abyss, silent yet instinctively making one want to take a step back.

Dongfang Weiwo took a deep breath and focused his consciousness on the first one.

The luminous pearl cracked in response to the thought.

Countless golden runes and images rushed into his mind—Guan Yutian, leader of the Supreme Alliance, whose innate protective energy was like a golden bell, whose immortal divine skill circulated endlessly, and whose mighty dragon palm could split mountains and shatter peaks.

At the peak of the Celestial Realm. The instant the information was poured in, golden light suddenly shone brightly in the secret room, like a small sun born out of thin air, illuminating the textures of the bluestone walls.

In the light, a burly figure slowly solidified.

A middle-aged man around forty years old, with broad shoulders and a long black and gold robe, his face square as if carved by a knife and axe, his eyebrows thick and black as if dipped in ink, and his tiger eyes shining brightly when they were open, like two bright lamps illuminating people's hearts.

When he landed, his robes didn't flutter and his boots made no sound, yet his figure remained as steady as a millennia-old cauldron. The moment he saw Dongfang Weiwo clearly, he didn't hesitate at all. He knelt down on one knee, pressed his right fist to the ground, and lowered his head.

"Guan Yutian greets Your Highness."

The voice was deep and resonant, like the first strike of an ancient bell, without a trace of superfluous emotion.

It came as naturally as a knife that had been sheathed for thirty years, ready to be drawn into the hands of the one wielding it.

Dongfang Weiwo rose and gestured for support. He was much younger than Guan Yutian, his face still bearing the sharp edge of his former self, but the dark golden light in his eyes was as deep as a well. He scrutinized the Supreme Alliance Leader before him, his lips slightly moving.

"The position of the Western Ghost Emperor in the Underworld has been vacant for too long, and the demons of the Southern Frontier and the Bright Heaven Palace of the Western Continent are now poised to attack from both sides. You must immediately head south and take charge of the southwest."

"Yes, sir."

Guan Yutian stood up in response and turned to leave. His steps were not fast, each one steady and powerful as if measured, the hem of his golden robe flashing a faint light behind him.

He stopped at the entrance to the secret room, his broad shoulders slightly turned to the side, without turning around.

"Young master," his voice lowered, as if a layer of velvet had been placed over iron, "are there any restrictions at the Bright Heaven Palace?"

Dongfang Weiwo stood still, his gaze fixed on the golden figure, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the side of his knee.

"No retreat, no surrender, no peace negotiations."

Guan Yutian was silent for a moment. Then he smiled slightly, a short and muffled laugh, like an old general's delight upon receiving a military order.

"clear."

The golden figure disappeared into the night, its aura of peak Celestial Realm power flashing briefly above the Azure Dragon Society's headquarters before vanishing like a shooting star trailing a long tail as it plummeted towards the southwest sky. The night wind swept through the paulownia trees in the courtyard, rustling the leaves as if bidding them farewell.

Dongfang Weiwo sat down cross-legged again. Before the spiritual energy in his palm had dissipated, he closed his eyes once more and sank into the depths of his consciousness.

The second orb of light hung there, its surrounding lightning even brighter than before, as if it had sensed something and was becoming restless.

Without hesitation, his spiritual sense pierced through like a needle.

The moment they were touched, the spiritual energy in the four corners of the secret room suddenly surged violently.

The air was kneaded and compressed by an invisible giant hand, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the bluestone ground. The jade light in the lamp was squeezed down to just a silver line—then a burly, mountain-like figure stepped out from the waterfall of light.

Xiong Ba.

With thick eyebrows and broad eyes, and beard and hair as sharp as spears, each hair stood up stiffly like an iron spike amidst the surging spiritual energy.

His figure was even larger than Guan Yutian's, and when he stood there, he looked like a small mountain pressing down on the center of the secret room, and even his breathing made a sound.

With every gesture, the Qi of Three Returning to Origin condensed into three vortexes that swirled around him—the wind vortex was as green as a knife, the thunder vortex was as white as lightning, and the ice vortex was as blue as frost. The three colors intertwined and emitted a deep hum.

He knelt on one knee as he landed, his movements precise and heavy enough to make the ground tremble slightly.

"Xiong Ba greets Young Master!" The voice, like muffled thunder, rolled across the mountain stream, causing dust to fall from the ceiling.

Dongfang Weiwo stood in front of him, his figure appearing somewhat thinner, but his back was as straight as a spear.

He did not help Xiong Ba up, but simply nodded in acceptance of the greeting, his gaze lingering for a moment on the three swirling vortexes around the other man.

"The Bright Heaven Palace of the Western Continent has advanced eastward, and its 100,000 Radiant Armors have already swallowed up the thirty-six caves of the Western Regions. Go to the western spiritual core and, within three days, establish a thousand-mile defensive line centered on it."

He paused, his tone calm and steady, as if stating a divinely ordained secret.

"If the Bright Heaven Palace advances further, there is no need to retreat. Fight back directly."

Xiong Ba raised his head. His eagle eyes gleamed sharply, and a near-ferocious smile stretched across his lips. His voice was extremely low, yet it made the air feel even tighter than the muffled thunder from before.

"Young master, please rest assured."

He slowly stood up, and his Threefold Returning Qi suddenly surged around him, the three-colored light making his burly figure appear as if a demon god had descended.

"If the Dharma King takes action personally—Xiong Ba will show him what the Three-Part Return to Origin Qi really means."

He pronounced the last syllable with extreme force, like a hammer striking an anvil.

As he turned and strode out of the secret chamber, three vortexes trailed long tails of light behind him, causing the paulownia leaves in the courtyard to flutter and swirl. The figure transformed into a three-colored streak of light and shot towards the west, instantly merging into the night.

The secret room fell silent again.

The jade lamp glowed faintly again, but the cracks on the stone floor remained.

Dongfang Weiwo stood alone in the room, remaining motionless for a long time.