Emperor Qingyun tossed Zhou Huangye to the ground like a discarded rag. His expression remained indifferent, knowing well why he'd brought Zhou Huangye back alive. Killing him too quickly would have cost Qingyun a valuable amount of luck, reducing it by a staggering 99%. With anyone else, it would only have been a loss of 90%, but Zhou Huangye's fate held a greater reward. In the cosmic game of chance, every little bit counted—especially when destiny itself could be influenced by such measures.
On the battlefield, the remaining Martial Saints from Longting had no chance. One after another, they fell in less than ten breaths. Blood painted the sky, marking the end of the elite fighters who dared challenge Qingyun's might. Below, the Dragoon Army obliterated the rest of the enemy forces, leaving no survivors. The Great Zhou's army, which had once marched so confidently, was wiped from existence, as if they had merely been pawns sent to boost Orion's fortune.
Ding!
The system rang in Orion's mind, bringing him out of his reverie.
[Congratulations to the host for killing 100,000 enemies, including five Martial Saints and several Half-Saints!]
[Luck gained: 8,637,200 points.]
[Victory in a major battle! Additional reward: 500,000 luck points.]
Orion sighed in frustration. "Again? Just short of the Emperor-level lottery draw? You've gotta be kidding me!" He glared up at the sky as if addressing the heavens themselves, though in reality, he was muttering to the system inside his head. "I swear you do this on purpose. Always just a bit short—are you trying to drive me insane?"
He shook his head, pushing the thought aside for now. "Wait—what about those from Yaowang Valley?" Orion suddenly remembered. If his luck was falling short, then perhaps those so-called masters of the Valley could make up the difference. He had unfinished business with them, and their luck was bound to be valuable.
Yuan Zuozong approached, his face glowing with pride as he handed over several space rings to Orion. "My lord, these rings contain the spoils of war, including those of the six enemy Martial Saints."
"Thank you for your hard work, Yuan Zuozong." Orion accepted the rings with a satisfied nod, turning them over in his hand with curiosity. "Seven rings... It seems Longting's ancestors have been hoarding quite a treasure trove."
Orion inspected the rings one by one. The first ring, filled with supplies from the defeated army, was unremarkable. Common resources, nothing of interest. But when he delved into the rings belonging to the fallen Martial Saints, his eyes lit up with excitement. Hidden among their possessions were two eighth-grade healing elixirs, likely the prized trump cards of Zhou Huangye himself.
He chuckled. "These would have been his last hope, but now they're mine."
Orion called for Luo Yi and handed him the healing elixirs. "Take these—one should be enough to fully heal you. The other can go to the next of the Eighteen Riders who needs it."
Luo Yi accepted the elixirs with gratitude. "Thank you, my lord. I will be ready to fight for you again soon."
Orion smiled but kept his attention on the space rings, pulling out rare herbs and medicinal materials. His mind raced with ideas. These were treasures, but they could be more useful as elixirs. He called for Ying Mo. "Take these herbs to Yao Qianming and have him refine them into more eighth-grade elixirs."
Ying Mo hesitated, sensing there was more to the order. "And after the elixirs are made, my lord?"
Orion's eyes darkened. "Then, kill them all. I have no use for disloyal alchemists."
The decision was final, ruthless, but efficient. "Consider it the last bit of recycling," he added with a smirk. Orion lamented briefly. Yao Qianming had been a powerful alchemist, a rare and valuable talent. Had they been on better terms, things could have been different. But betrayal was not something he could forgive.
Emperor Qingyun, noticing the lingering conflict in Orion's mind, approached him. "My lord, if they're valuable to you, why not keep them alive? They could still serve a purpose."
Orion shook his head. "They're too dangerous. I've pushed them too far. If I spare them, they'll just betray me down the road."
Qingyun smiled knowingly. "Then let me offer a solution. I could place the Qingyun Sword Seal on them, turning them into sword slaves. They will have no will of their own, only loyalty to you."
"Sword slaves?" Orion asked, intrigued.
Qingyun nodded. "A technique from my Qingyun Nine Moves. Those branded with the sword slave mark become obedient puppets. They will follow every command without hesitation—even if it leads to their death."
Orion's eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "You can control them completely?"
Qingyun frowned slightly. "They would lose most of their consciousness, becoming little more than mindless puppets. But they would retain their skills."
Orion grinned. "That's all I need—obedience and their talents. The rest doesn't matter."
He glanced at the space rings again, his resolve hardening. "Then it's decided. Yao Qianming and the others in Yaowang Valley will become sword slaves. Their last contribution to this world will be serving me."
Emperor Qingyun nodded, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous brilliance. The game of power was far from over.