265 Willow Sovereign
Tao Long had left, and with his departure so too vanished the rainstorm that had mirrored his turmoil. The silence he left behind weighed heavily, broken only by the rustling of paper in my office. Da Ji entered with her usual grace, Wan Peng trailing her like a dutiful shadow. Alice lingered on the balcony, her presence sharp and distant. At my desk, my Ghost Soul hunched over stacks of documents, scratching furiously at the parchment while tears rolled down his transparent face. He was a pitiful sight. Efficient, but pitiful.
“This is so unfair,” the Ghost Soul wailed, his brush shaking in his hand, “why must I be the one buried under all this drudgery when you are sitting right there? This is cruel, heartless, and downright tyrannical!” His words came in a sobbing torrent, snotless but somehow just as pathetic.
Alice glided over to him, her voice carrying the edge of a blade. “Why are you slowing down?” she asked, her tone so casual yet dangerous that even the air seemed to still.
The Ghost Soul froze. His already pale form turned translucent with terror, and his brush began moving as if spurred by divine judgment. He dared not meet her gaze, scrawling line after line like a condemned man writing his last testament.
Wan Peng, fidgeting with his sleeves, finally broke the tension. “My liege,” he said, “is it true? You are leaving? The city will fall apart without you!” His voice cracked, caught between loyalty and panic.
I leaned back, resting my hand against the arm of my chair. “We’ve stocked up on Spirit Stones. That should keep the city aloft for at least a year if we suspend it in place. Better yet, we could anchor it to one location, let it hover, and cut consumption entirely. Problem solved.”
Wan Peng’s eyes widened. “Problem solved? What of governance? The paperwork alone will kill any mortal man, my liege!” He gestured wildly at the mountains of scrolls that just arrived, his anxiety as clear as day.
I pointed toward the sobbing figure at the desk. “That is why he’s in charge when I’m not around.”
Wan Peng blinked, aghast. “Is… is that wise?”
Before I could answer, Alice did it for me. Her cold assurance cut through the doubt like steel. “He will deliver.”
The Ghost Soul’s brush scraped harder against the parchment, his cries now doubled in pitch. “There is no justice in this world! None!” His lamentations filled the chamber, though none of us spared him pity.
Da Ji finally spoke. “And why am I here?” Her golden eyes narrowed with suspicion, as if daring me to waste her time.
I rose from my seat, letting my gaze sweep across the room, meeting each of theirs in turn. “Because we need our heavy hitters,” I said. “We’ll be infiltrating the Empire, finding out what’s happening with them, and then evaluating our choices from there. And you, my dear sister, will be coming with me.”
Da Ji looked entirely too pleased with herself. Her lips curled into a grin as she leaned closer, eyes sparkling with the mischief of someone who had just been handed freedom on a silver platter. “So,” she said, her tone deliberately slow, “I can leave all of my responsibilities, paperwork, project implementations, and… responsibilities”—she dragged out the word again just to needle me—“all to Jia Yun?”
I hesitated. For a heartbeat, I considered lying. For another, I thought of what would happen if I did. Finally, I forced a nod, the word escaping weaker than I intended. “Y-yes… you can.”
She didn’t even wait for me to finish the sentence. Her excitement boiled over like a fox breaking free from its snare. “Wait for me, brother, I’ll inform Jia Yun immediately!” she declared with fire in her voice. “I will handle it!” Then, before I could protest, she was already gone, the sweep of her robes the only evidence she had ever been in the room.
Alice let out a sound that was half sigh, half mockery. She didn’t even bother to hide her smirk. “That’s how you look every time you try to run away from paperwork,” she remarked, her eyes still fixed on the balcony’s horizon as if the world outside mattered less than pointing out my flaws.
I swore under my breath. After this reconnaissance to the Empire, I was going to find paperwork for Alice to drown in. She had been hiding behind the word ‘consultant’ far too comfortably, a position that conveniently exempted her from every ledger, every report, and every ink-stained night that plagued the rest of us. If anyone deserved to suffer through the bureaucratic grind, it was her. ‘Overrated job,’ I thought bitterly. ‘She can keep her sidelines after I bury her under scrolls.’
Before I could plot any further, the doors slammed open, and in strode Li Feng of the Fighter Constellation. His steps were urgent, his expression sharpened by the tension of command. “My lord,” he exclaimed, voice booming enough to rattle the shelves, “there’s a small military contingent outside. They wield different banners, yet each carries experts at the Eighth Realm. Commander Ding Shan is keeping them in check, but they are threatening to force their way in if…” He hesitated for dramatic effect, or perhaps confusion, “…if the Willow Sovereign wouldn’t show himself!”
I blinked, nearly choking on the title. “Willow Sovereign?” I muttered, almost to myself. “Is that what people are calling me now?”
I honed in on the Asura Soul I had left with Ding Shan. Through it, I saw him standing firm at the forest, his stance unshaken as the Guardians rallied behind him. My soul flared in his chest, augmenting his aura, lending him the edge he needed to keep the wolves at bay. Suspended in the air above him were three figures, each surrounded by their own followers. Behind them stretched contingents clad in different colors, each force carrying a banner stitched with a single character: martial, unity, and heaven. Each flag represented one of the great world powers.
Normally, I would have felt elated at drawing the attention of such towering figures. Cultivator common sense would have urged me to bow my head, to kowtow and ingratiate myself to their will. Yet as I gazed upon them through Ding Shan’s eyes, I could not summon reverence. Two decades ago, I had crossed paths with these factions… and I hadn’t merely survived. I had beaten them, shattered their pride, and carved scars deep enough that some still bled.
The Martial Alliance representative spoke first, a broad-shouldered man with a trimmed goatee, his tone sharp and commanding. “We demand an audience with the Willow Sovereign.”
Then the Heavenly Temple representative, an older man whose robes glimmered faintly with celestial inscriptions, followed. His voice carried the weight of doctrine, dripping with smug assurance. “It would be in the ruler of this fine island’s best interest to align himself with the Heavenly Temple… for mutual prosperity.”
Last came the Union’s envoy, a woman dressed in garments that concealed little. Her smile was slow, her eyes openly wandering as though appraising a prize to be claimed. “I want to see the Willow Sovereign,” she said with a laugh too warm for the tension in the air. Her voice curled like silk, every word layered with a flirtatious lilt.
The goateed man of the Martial Alliance lost patience first. His aura burst outward, heavy with raw aggression, pressing down on Ding Shan like a collapsing mountain. Ding Shan gritted his teeth, holding the line with the power I had lent him. As if choreographed, the Heavenly Temple representative unleashed his own weight of authority, the pressure imbued with righteous sanctimony. The woman of the Union followed suit, her killing intent veiled beneath playful tones, her spiritual pressure no less crushing for all her smiles.
Three currents of power bore down on my precious general, each intent on breaking him. My blood boiled at the sight.
“Guardians, steel yourselves,” Ding Shan’s voice rang out, carrying both my will and the Asura Soul’s sharp edge. “Show no weakness to these pretentious mongrels.”
“Yes, Commander!” the Guardians roared as one, their War Aura flaring like a storm-tide crashing against the shore. One after another, their auras layered and stacked, until the sky itself seemed to ripple under the pressure they projected.
The Union representative only laughed, her fingers curling as scarlet flames arched across her nails. “How amusing,” she cooed, eyes gleaming with predatory delight.
The Martial Alliance representative sneered, his hand resting idly on the hilt of a long saber. “Where’s your lord? I suggest he come out already.”
The Heavenly Temple’s representative’s voice was soft, but each syllable seemed to hum with restrained arrogance. “Such fascinating techniques. I can’t help but be curious about their history.”
For all their bravado, the Guardians were wavering. Even with their combined might, they were ants before a storm, caught beneath the crushing spiritual pressure of three Eighth Realm experts. I could feel their knees threaten to buckle through the tether of my Asura Soul.
I whispered directly into Ding Shan’s ear, the words a low growl carried across our bond. “Say the most obscene thing you can imagine. Insult each of those arrogant clowns until their grandmothers claw their way out of the grave in shame.”
Ding Shan did not hesitate. He leveled a glare at the Martial Alliance representative and barked with power, “That goatee of yours looks like a goat had its face rammed through shit. Honestly, I can’t tell if you’re about to lecture us or chew grass.”
Gasps rippled through both sides, but Ding Shan turned his scorn immediately to the Heavenly Temple’s representative. “And you. Too young. Too talentless. Your lack of skill shines so bright that the hag next to you looks younger by comparison.” The old man’s cheeks flushed scarlet, and his lips pressed thin, trembling with rage.
Finally, Ding Shan pointed at the Union representative, his voice dripping with disdain. “And you… draped in scraps you call clothing. A whore past her prime, with wrinkles your makeup couldn’t hide even if you buried yourself in powder. My very staff would shrivel just looking at you.”
For a long moment, silence consumed the courtyard. The banners swayed in the wind, but not a word, not a breath dared break the pause.
Back in my office, I couldn’t hold it in. I doubled over, laughter tearing from my chest until tears streamed down my face. “Hahahahahaha~!” My sides ached, my vision blurred, and still I laughed. Alice and Wan Peng looked at me suspiciously, their expressions caught between confusion and horror. I waved them off, still cackling. “Oh heavens above… hahahahaha!”
“How dare you!” shrieked the union representative, her flirtatious demeanor gone in an instant. Flames erupted from her palm, coalescing into a spear of fire that screamed through the air toward Ding Shan.
My lips curved into a thin smile. “If they wanted to force my hand, then so be it.” With a pulse of Quintessence, my emerald robes rippled and shifted, their edges trimming into a regal orange lined with threads of gold. For effect, I left the branding of an old willow tree etched upon my back. My dark hair gleamed and brightened until it was a wave of blonde strands, while from my Item Box I withdrew a wooden mask and fixed it over my face.
In a single breath, Da Wei disappeared, and the Willow Sovereign took his place.
Before the flaming spear struck, I wove Castling into reality, trading places with Ding Shan. As I stood in his stead, I retrieved the Asura Soul tethered to him, and in the same motion raised my hand. The flaming spear met my palm, where Flash Parry cracked against its essence, redirecting its fury back upon the very woman who had conjured it.
Her eyes widened, but I wasn’t done. I whispered Searing Smite into the flame, branding it as my own spell. She tried to disperse it with a desperate cry, but the fire clung to her flesh like judgment made manifest. Screams pierced the air as the flames devoured her robes. She writhed, clawing the inferno off her skin. In the end, she survived, but barely, her body smoldered, and her modesty lost. She stood naked before heaven and earth.
“You are lucky I held back,” I remarked.
The Martial Alliance representative burst into cruel laughter, his goatee twitching as he pointed at her. “To think the grand Union was reduced to this! Perhaps you should parade yourself in the brothels again, old whore!”
The woman’s face flushed crimson, her arms snapping up to shield her nipples and crotch. She looked ready to vanish into the ground, but I did not give her respite. I vanished with a Flash Step, reappearing right before the goateed envoy. He barely managed to raise his saber before my finger flicked his forehead with War Smite.
“Too slow.”
The force erupted like thunder. His body was flung skyward, tumbling helplessly until he crashed into a distant hill with a thunderous quake. Dust and stone swallowed him whole.
The old man of the Heavenly Temple growled, drawing a polished spear wreathed in divine light. Yet before he could swing, I was already gone. Divine Speed merged with Flash Step, and I reappeared behind him, one hand clamping down on his shoulder like a mountain. My grip tightened until the bones beneath my fingers groaned.
“This,” I said, my voice ringing like iron through the air, “is what’s going to happen. I will talk, and all of you will listen. Fail to comply, and you will get hurt.”