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

Three days. All the keys to the sealed demon bloodline have been unlocked.

He had long since left behind the threshold of the half-step Celestial Being realm. He had already broken through to the early stage of the Celestial Being realm when that milky white light surged in. When the black longsword recognized him as its master, it infused him with another layer of creation. At this moment, the depths of his Qi Sea were in a state of overlapping chaos and clarity—above the half-step Celestial Being realm, at the early stage of the Celestial Being realm. His foundation was three times thicker than that of an ordinary mid-stage Celestial Being.

But what he truly cared about was not the level of attainment.

It was that door. The door he had temporarily closed, and the ancient, lingering regret inside that had said "okay," waited for his father, and waited for him again.

He glanced down at the blade of the black longsword in his arms. In the moonlight, a line of words faintly appeared on the blade, previously hidden, but now clearly visible:

The gatekeeper of Tianxuan for ten thousand years. Sword name: Zhenyuan.

Bai Yujing walked over, looked at the inscription on the longsword in his arms, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly asked:

"Young master, that thing just now—"

"It's not a thing."

Dongfang Weiwo pulled his robes shut and sheathed the Zhenyuan Sword, then looked up at the distant wasteland. The Blood Moon Demon Sect's gate was nothing more than a dark red outline in the night.

"It is the last will and testament of the previous owner of the Zhenyuan Sword. That person used his Demon-Sealing Bloodline to seal something behind that door, sealing it for ten thousand years. He sealed himself inside as well."

"What is that?"

Dongfang Weiwo remained silent for a moment. "He didn't say anything."

Bai Yujing asked no more questions.

Outside the light screen, patches of fire suddenly lit up the wasteland.

Torches, banners, and crowds—Shen Wansan led hundreds of people from the east, with carriages, pack animals, and storage boxes piled up along the way.

He saw from afar that the light curtain was still on, and then he saw that the crack had closed. He let out a long sigh of relief and practically tumbled over, shouting:

"Young Dragon Chief! Young Dragon Chief, are you alright? I've brought people to build the market! It's been three days, and if we don't start building soon, Blood Moon will set up a roadblock on the spiritual vein—"

Dongfang Weiwo ignored him. His gaze passed over the men behind Shen Wansan, over the ever-growing number of caravans and rogue cultivators on the wasteland, and looked further into the distance—

From the east. From the north. From the south. Three auras are approaching simultaneously from three directions.

The aura from the east was thick and solid, like a furnace. The ground was not dusty, but it trembled slightly with every step.

It was a middle-aged man clad in golden armor, with red hair and beard, riding a crimson four-clawed dragon. Behind the dragon followed three hundred armored cavalrymen, with a blazing sun embroidered on their banner.

The aura from the north was icy and sharp, freezing the grass and leaves in its wake. It was a woman shrouded in a silver-white gauze robe, her face obscured, only her blue eyes shining like cold stars behind the veil.

She rode alone on a giant, snow-white wolf. The wolf's feet trod on ice patterns, leaving a frost flower with each step.

The aura from the south was the faintest, almost imperceptible. But Dongfang Weiwo saw it—a bronze chariot hovered in the clouds, upon which stood a slender young man in a blue robe, toying with a folding fan whose surface bore half a tattered Tai Chi diagram. The young man looked down, meeting Dongfang Weiwo's gaze, and smiled faintly.

Bai Yujing followed his gaze, her expression changing slightly:

"The Crimson Dragon Marquis of the Blazing Sun Cavalry... the Grand Fate Master of the Northern Ice Palace... the Young Master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion in the Central Plains... these are all veteran powerhouses who never stepped out of their respective territories half a year ago, why are they all here—"

"Here to confirm," Dongfang Weiwo withdrew his gaze, "to confirm whether the person occupying this land is qualified to hold their position."

He turned around, facing the light screen, facing the three approaching auras, and facing the entire Tianxuan Continent, which was beginning to be reshuffled.

"Then let them see."

Fifteen minutes later. Outside the spiritual energy barrier.

The Crimson Dragon Marquis, having subdued the dragon, stood before the light screen with his arms crossed, his golden armor dazzlingly illuminated by the spiritual glow. The Grand Commander dismounted from the white wolf's back, his silver-white gauze robe fluttering gently in the night breeze. The young master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion leaped from his chariot, his folding fan opening and closing, and he stood smiling at the forefront.

A crack appeared in the light barrier between the three. Dongfang Weiwo stepped out, a cloth-wrapped Zhenyuan Sword hanging at his waist, followed by Bai Yujing. The wind from the west blew across the wasteland, whipping sand and gravel against the hem of his black robes, making a fluttering sound.

The three of them simultaneously probed his cultivation level.

Crimson Dragon Marquis's blood surged like a tidal wave, while the Grand Master of Fate's chill probed like needles, and the Young Pavilion Master used an extremely light and gentle spiritual sense to glide past from the side.

Then the expressions on the faces of the three people changed at the same time.

The golden armor of the Crimson Dragon Marquis dimmed for a moment.

The Grand Master's silver veil froze slightly. The young master's folding fan snapped shut, and the smile on his face faded a little.

Because they can't find out the bottom.

It's not that it can't be explored, it's that it's unclear—in the depths of Dongfang Weiwo's Qi Sea, chaos and clarity overlap, and beneath the aura of the initial stage of the Heavenly Man realm, something even more ancient and profound is suppressed, like an iceberg with only a corner showing on the surface of the water.

With their cultivation at the early to mid-stages of the Celestial Realm, the three of them could only vaguely sense that he had recently broken through to a higher realm, but they couldn't determine exactly which level he was at.

The wasteland was quiet for a moment.

Crimson Dragon Marquis spoke first. His voice was deep and rough, like the clash of metal and stone: "You're the kid who took over this land?"

"I am the only one in the East."

"I've heard of you in Zhongzhou," the Crimson Dragon Marquis said, sizing him up. "Half a year ago at the Yangzhou Sword Tournament, you crushed all the juniors of Dongzhou with a single sword strike. I thought it was just boasting back then."

Dongfang Weiwo did not respond.

Red Dragon Marquis snorted dismissively, then suddenly stomped his foot on the ground. The tremor traveled through the earth—he was probing the spiritual veins.

Then his expression changed completely. The aura deep within the spiritual vein was a hundred times stronger than what could be perceived from the outside, and that aura was surging upwards continuously from three thousand feet underground.

This spiritual vein was opened up by something, and its thoroughness far exceeds that of ordinary spiritual veins by more than ten times.

Crimson Dragon Marquis withdrew his foot and remained silent for a long time. Then he looked up at Dongfang Weiwo, his golden armor fluttered, and he turned to mount the dragon.

"This land is yours," the Crimson Dragon Marquis's voice echoed across the wasteland. "But the Blazing Sun will also raise its flag on that newly emerged sacred mountain three thousand miles away. You don't concern yourself with matters outside the Eastern Continent, and I won't concern myself with your matters in the West. We'll each occupy our own territory, and keep to ourselves."

He paused, then added, "If you ever find yourself unable to sit still, I'll be the first to replace the flag."

After speaking, the dragon soared into the sky, followed by three hundred iron cavalry, their golden-red flames trailing behind them.

The Grand Master of Fate was even more decisive than the Crimson Dragon Marquis. She only glanced at Dongfang Weiwo, then at Bai Yujing behind him, before mounting the white wolf.

The giant wolf turned and walked north. After a while, she turned back and said, "The Northern Ice Palace will not expand eastward. But if any of you from the Eastern Continent cross the frost line north of the White Wolf Plains, the High Priest will personally come."

After saying this, the white wolf leaped into the air and disappeared, frost flowers condensing all the way to the horizon.

The young master of Tianji Pavilion was the last to leave.

He walked forward with a smile, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture towards Dongfang Weiwo, and opened and closed his folding fan.

"I am Lu Xuan, the young master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion. I have come here for two reasons—first, to confirm that the young dragon leader has firmly established himself in this territory."

Secondly, the Pavilion Master asked me to convey a message: 'The Heavenly Mystery Pavilion has recently established a branch in the Central Mountain Range. If Young Dragon Head has some free time, please come and have a cup of tea.'

Dongfang Weiwo looked at the smiling face and said, "The Heavenly Mystery Pavilion doesn't do business."

Lu Xuan was taken aback for a moment, then smiled so broadly that his eyes crinkled into crescents:

"Young Master is joking. The Heavenly Mystery Pavilion buys intelligence and sells divination. A client like you, possessing a core spiritual vein, cannot bypass us. Our branch will open in three days, and I have prepared fine tea for you—you don't have to come, but regarding that door, the Pavilion Master said she might know something."

Without waiting for Dongfang Weiwo's reply, the young man in the green robe leaped back to the bronze chariot on the cloud, and the chariot disappeared into the clouds.

The wasteland fell silent.

Shen Wansan led his caravan, watching anxiously from afar, not daring to approach. Figures moved back and forth at the dark red gate of the Blood Moon Demon Sect, clearly indicating that news of the Crimson Dragon Marquis, the Grand Commander, and Lu Xuan's passage had already reached them.

But the commotion stopped at the mountain gate; no one came out, and no army set off.

"I'm leaving." Dongfang Weiwo turned and walked into the light screen.

Bai Yujing followed and asked in a low voice:

"Young Master, what the three of you just said—the Spirit Mountain occupied by the Blazing Sun Cavalry, the Frostline of the Ice Palace, and the branch of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion—are these considered boundary demarcations?"

"Calculate."

Dongfang Weiwo stepped into the depths of the light curtain, the night wind billowing his cloak.

"They came in person to draw the lines. The Crimson Dragon Marquis drew the western line, the Grand Commander drew the northern line, and the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion drew the central line—from today onwards, within eight thousand miles west of the Eastern Continent, no major power will dare to challenge the Azure Dragon Society for territory."

Why?

"Because they couldn't even seize it in Zhongzhou."

Dongfang Weiwo stopped and glanced back at the three trailing lights that were gradually fading. "After the fusion of Tianxuan, Zhongzhou will be the true battlefield. The reason those three families still have the resources to come to the west to draw lines is because the battle in Zhongzhou hasn't reached their doorstep yet. Once the battle truly begins in Zhongzhou—"

He paused. Then he chuckled softly.

"They'll come looking for us again then. They'll come to buy our spiritual veins, borrow our cultivation methods, and ask for our help. That's why Shen Wansan's market town was built just right—they won't just be coming in for tea as scattered cultivators and merchants."

Bai Yujing was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. It was a rare, completely relaxed smile he had shown since he began following Dongfang Weiwo. "Did you foresee this, Young Master?"

"I can't predict it." Dongfang Weiwo continued walking deeper into the light screen. "But those who have the cards don't need to predict everything. Just hold on tight and wait for things to come to them."

Behind them, the light curtain closed.

A third pillar of spiritual energy burst forth from the depths of the dark gold on the wasteland, illuminating the surrounding area for thousands of miles as if it were daytime.

Shen Wansan's caravan began to select a campsite outside the light screen. Finally, a steward in a red robe came out from the gate of the Blood Moon Demon Sect, stood at the gate and looked in this direction for a while, then retreated.

From the east, north, and south, three auras simultaneously receded and then turned around—the Crimson Dragon Marquis's dragon, the Great Master of Fate's white wolf, and Lu Xuan's chariot, leaving three arcs in the sky, all turning towards the direction of the central mountain range.

Things are about to change in Zhongzhou.

When Dongfang Weiwo returned to sit down on the green rock, the Zhenyuan Sword in his arms suddenly trembled slightly. The inscription on the sword, "Tianxuan Ten Thousand Years, Guardian of the Gate," lit up for a moment and then dimmed, as if reminding him of something.

He pressed down on the sword and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.

The dark gold vortex deep within the Qi Sea was slowly rotating, and the chaotic energy that had recently flowed in after connecting with the spiritual veins at its edges was gradually integrating.

His foundation, having passed two trials in three days, wasn't yet entirely stable, but the spiritual veins beneath his feet were being continuously nourished, and the Demon-Sealing Bloodline within his body was being tempered day and night. In another month, no, twenty days, he would be able to firmly establish himself at the initial stage of the Celestial Realm and set his sights on the next realm.

The game outside is far from over. The battle in Zhongzhou hasn't even begun, the passage to the Southern Frontier hasn't been sealed off, the demons of the Northern Desert haven't retreated, and the 200,000 barbarian cavalry are still pinned down outside the White Wolf Plains. Although the Blood Moon Demon Sect's peak Celestial Realm ancestor is repaying favors, those favors will eventually run out.

But he wasn't in a hurry.

He has spiritual veins beneath his feet, Zhenyuan in his arms, and the twelve halls of the Azure Dragon Society and the nine kings of the underworld behind him.

In the north, there are Guan Qi; in the east, Pang Ban and Wu Zetian; and in the south, Shi Zhixuan and Liao Chen—every battlefield is locked in a stalemate, yet none of them have collapsed.

This is a delicate moment where no one can move and no one wants to make the first move.

What I, Dongfang Wei, need to do is to hone my own skills even more while everyone else is too afraid to make a move.

He closed his eyes.

Dark golden light surged from his body, merging with the radiance of the spiritual vein beneath his feet. Outside the light barrier, Shen Wansan's market had its first foundation pile driven in, while the red-robed deacon on the Blood Moon Demon Sect's mountain gate watched from afar, and three arcs of light in the sky were simultaneously turning towards Zhongzhou.

The night was deep. The spiritual energy shone as brightly as day.

And so the first night in the New World came to an end.