When Xu He displayed his Martial Spirit, a shudder ran through his body. For a brief moment, he felt as if death itself was staring back at him. He knew the dangers of exposing his Martial Spirit, yet this was necessary. His father, the Emperor, had initially hesitated to reveal it, but after Xu He shared a portion of his knowledge, his father's reservations turned to excitement.
The Emperor saw this as a perfect opportunity to solidify Xu He's position within the royal court. By demonstrating the boy's brilliance, he could ensure that the elders and nobles thought twice before plotting against him. Xu He had already met with several elders, particularly those among the Soul Engineers, and shared his groundbreaking knowledge with them—a method to cultivate spiritual power.
For years, spiritual power had been a stagnant force, increasing only as soul power grew. But Xu He's method, though limited, was revolutionary. It allowed soul masters to actively train their spiritual power, a feat previously thought impossible. This had excited the elders to no end, especially the Soul Engineers, for whom spiritual power was crucial in crafting high-level soul tools.
The Emperor decided to make this knowledge public. His reasoning was twofold: not only would it bolster public opinion in favor of the royal family, but it would also secure Xu He's position as Crown Prince. The current Emperor, known for his benevolence, was no fool. He was well aware of his brother, Prince Zhen, tirelessly rallying nobles and elders to his side. By sharing this method, the Emperor could attract the support of commoners and possibly even sway some powerful individuals to join his cause.
However, the method Xu He provided was an extremely diluted version of what he truly knew. While it was helpful for most, it had minimal impact on Titled Douluo above level 94. This ensured that other empires could not fully exploit it to gain an edge, while still making it an enticing boon for civilians and lower-tier soul masters.
When the Emperor officially announced the method, the crowd erupted in astonishment.
"Is this truly something they're willing to make public?" was the prevailing thought among the people. Yet, most were thrilled. This breakthrough could alleviate the struggles of crafting soul tools, particularly for those with insufficient spiritual power.
Xu He stood among the applause and cheers, feeling a rush of exhilaration. The praises, the envious glances—they were intoxicating. He knew this was only the beginning of his rise.
In the crowd, three figures stood together, watching the announcement unfold.
The first was a middle-aged man with a cold, calculating gaze—Prince Zhen, the Emperor's brother. Beside him stood two young men. One had striking purple hair and an air of quiet authority; this was Xu Tianran, Prince Zhen's eldest son and the Emperor's nephew. The other was a golden-haired youth with a roguish grin and lecherous eyes—Xu Tianyan, Prince Zhen's second son.
"Father," Xu Tianran said, his voice low and skeptical. "Do you really believe a six-year-old child could create such a method? It feels… improbable."
Prince Zhen sneered. "Hah, I thought the same at first. But all the elders who met him insist that the boy is a prodigy, the most intelligent mind ever born into our royal family. They claim this method is entirely his creation."
Xu Tianyan scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The most intelligent? A six-year-old? Are we sure the elders haven't just lost their wits? Perhaps they've been just fooled by this method which Emperor uncle found from somewhere and said it was discovered by his son."
Prince Zhen's expression darkened. "Some fanatics are even saying he's been chosen by the gods themselves—like the Shrek Academy ancestors from ten thousand years ago." He paused, his lips curling into a sneer. "Nonsense. Gods—they're nothing but stories. The Emperor is using this farce to secure the throne for his whelp."
Xu Tianran's gaze lingered on Xu He, who stood beside the Emperor, basking in the admiration of the crowd. His eyes narrowed. "Regardless of the truth, Father, the boy has the elders on his side now. This move is brilliant, but it clearly disgusting for us."
"Enough," Prince Zhen snapped, silencing his sons. His eyes burned with cold fury as he continued to watch the Emperor and Xu He. "This is far from over. The Emperor is playing his game, and now, so must we. He doesn't have many years to live but we should send him before only."
Xu Tianran nodded, his lips curling into a thin smile. He was dreaming to be Crown Prince and then Emperor.
When Emperor looked at his both sons and then his brother he shuddered he felt history will be repeated.
•••
Ye Xishui cradled Ye Xue gently in her arms. The child had fallen asleep shortly after discussion in the banquet, her face still carrying a faint smile from indulging in sweets. As Ye Xishui gazed at her daughter's serene expression, a rare softness flickered in her otherwise cold demeanor.
It was time to return.
Her mind, however, was preoccupied with darker thoughts. She had been contemplating the assassination of the Crown Prince. Yet, she decided against it, at least for now. There was no urgency; her plans could wait until Ye Xue awakened her Martial Spirit.
Ye Xue was no ordinary child, and Ye Xishui was well aware of this. She had begun walking and speaking far earlier than others, surpassing even the Crown Prince in her development. There was also the peculiar manner of her arrival—a descent from a pillar of light that directly came from skies. It was a mystery that demanded answers, but for Ye Xishui, one thing was clear: Ye Xue belonged to her and no one else.
If anyone dared to claim otherwise, if anyone had the audacity to declare Ye Xue as their kin, Ye Xishui's response would be swift and merciless. No matter their lineage or relation, they would die.
Ye Xue was her peace, her purpose. The thought of separation was intolerable. To ensure their bond remained unbroken, Ye Xishui allowed no one to grow close to her daughter. No friends, no companions. She wanted Ye Xue to rely solely on her.
A cold smile graced her lips as she exited the chamber, her two maids trailing behind her. Their heads were bowed, their movements mechanical. It was as though they had lost all sense of self, reduced to mere puppets under Ye Xishui's will.
As she walked, Ye Xishui unfolded the method of spiritual power cultivation she had recently obtained. She scanned its contents, her sharp eyes quickly absorbing the details.
"Interesting," she murmured under her breath.
Though the method was useless to her personally—her spiritual power had already reached the peak of what the mortal realm could offer—it was not without value. She could extract inspiration from it, perhaps design something new, something more potent. Yet, despite her genius, she faced an insurmountable barrier: ascension to godhood.
In the known world, the only path to becoming a god was through the inheritance of a divine position via a God Test. She had searched for such inheritance sites tirelessly but had found nothing.
Her lips tightened into a thin line.
"Am I not worthy because I am… evil?"
It was a bitter thought, one she had entertained more often than she cared to admit. The Holy Spirit Church worshipped a deity they called the Holy Emperor, yet Ye Xishui had never experienced anything divine from the lifeless statue that adorned their altar.
There had been one exception: the Grand Elder, a man who once claimed to have heard the Holy Emperor's oracle. But he had met a mysterious end, his death shrouded in secrecy and unanswered questions. His Martial Spirit, the legendary Medusa, had not even been passed down they felt it was loss of talent.