The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

Just as everyone thought the Weiwu General was at the end of his rope and would soon be crushed by the Fang Clan's forces—

From the horizon, black clouds surged like a river, rolling in with terrifying momentum. Within mere heartbeats, they blanketed the skies above the imperial palace, casting the entire area into an ominous shadow.

From within the dark mist came waves of oppressive pressure—and a thick, bloody stench. The air felt heavy, like the end of the world was imminent.

These clouds weren't ordinary. Even divine senses could not pierce them, and only vague outlines of massive figures could be seen within.

The Weiwu General quietly sighed in relief.

In the distance, the Saint-realm cultivators hiding in the shadows were stunned.

"So this was the Weiwu General's trump card..."

"No wonder he dared to challenge the Fang Clan. He brought reinforcements."

"Bold man. Collaborating with demonic cultivators? Does he not fear the wrath of the Buddhists?"

Anyone who looked could recognize that this dark, demonic mist was the mark of powerful devil cultivators—likely from the Southern Domain.

Fang Luo frowned. He had always despised pirates, bandits, and demon cultivators, and had personally led the Hidden Dragon Guards to exterminate them many times before.

Fang Kong calmly said,

"So this was his confidence."

Fang Luo nodded.

"Even if the Five Great Demon Sects of the Southern Domain themselves come today—Weiwu General will die. And Great Xia will merge into Great Qian. Nothing can stop it!"

Fang Luo shouted loudly:

"Does the Southern Demon Sect intend to meddle in this affair?"

From within the black clouds came a cold, sinister voice:

"In this world, power rules. Since the Great Xia's royal family has fallen, it is only right that General Chen assumes control. That's better than watching it fall apart. Why must you outsiders interfere?"

They didn't even bother answering directly. Refusal would only make them look guilty, so they simply ignored the question—as if they hadn't heard.

After all, as long as they didn't reveal their identities or auras, no one could prove who they were.

Ji Yuying's fists clenched, her face burning with anger.

"I am Princess Ji Yuying of Great Xia! To me, YOU are the outsiders!!"

A cold snort came from the mist:

"A mysterious force destroys the royal family, slaughters numerous Saints, and yet a powerless girl survives? Obviously, you're an imposter!"

The Weiwu General chimed in:

"That's right! I raised the princess myself. I know her better than anyone. You're a fake!"

Ji Yuying's face flushed with fury.

"You're the ones spouting nonsense! You're the impostors!!"

Fang Luo raised his hand slightly, signaling Ji Yuying to calm down.

"I'll ask one final time. Does the Southern Demon Sect truly intend to get involved?"

If they persisted, Fang Luo had no doubt—his Sixth Uncle, Fang Ting, would not spare them.

But rather than answer, the black mist attacked.

The demonic cloud condensed into a sky-high ghost, its massive claws reaching out for Fang Luo's group. Its gaping mouth looked ready to swallow them whole.

This was the power of a Saint King.

Even with all his talent, Fang Luo—still in the Great Saint realm—couldn't withstand a Saint King head-on.

But he was unbothered. He had already sent word to his Sixth Uncle as soon as he sensed the General had a backer.

Just as the ghost came within reach—

"Whoosh..."

A breeze blew from the edge of the sky.

Light. Subtle. Unseen and unfelt, with no flash or spectacle—just a breeze.

Yet that terrifying ghost vanished like mist, as though it had never existed.

Everyone present—except the Fang Clan—was struck dumb with shock.

Especially the Weiwu General and the demonic cultivators. They knew this was a Saint King-level spell.

And yet... with just a breeze, the figure was completely undone—and no one had even appeared.

The demon cultivators in the mist immediately regretted their involvement.

But it was too late.

A second breeze began to rise—larger, deeper.

"Whooosh..."

This breeze looked ordinary but carried the weight of a thousand armies. It struck fear into the hearts of the demonic powers within.

They tried to run—but found they couldn't move.

"What is this—!?"

The breeze reached them.

There was no explosion, no roar. Just a whisper of air.

And then—the black mist was gone. It dissolved before their eyes.

The mysterious demonic cultivators within were gone.

To an outsider, it looked like they'd fled.

But the truth was—they had been turned to dust.

Only Great Saint-realm cultivators were present, so none could confirm whether the demons had escaped or died.

But they knew one thing for certain:

This seemingly unstoppable crisis... had been erased in an instant.

And no one even knew who had done it.

In the shadows, numerous faction leaders gasped.

"That level of power... terrifying!"

"Thank the heavens we surrendered early!"

"Was that one of the Three Lords of the Divine Palace? Or someone even more terrifying that the Fang Clan recruited?"

The Weiwu General hadn't even processed what had happened.

One moment, his reinforcements had arrived—he thought victory was certain.

The next moment—they were gone, like smoke.

Gone so easily, so simply... like they had never existed.

Fang Luo gave him no time to recover.

He waved his hand.

"Kill!!"

Fang Luo led the charge atop his Redback Dragon Beast, heading straight for the Weiwu General.

The Hidden Dragon Guards followed, charging into the General's elite troops.

What followed was a one-sided massacre.

The result was clear from the start:

The Weiwu General and his entire army—utterly wiped out.

In truth, the moment he seized the palace, his fate had been sealed.

His death came only slightly later than expected.

With the last rebel of Great Xia crushed, the people and powers of the realm erupted in support of the merger into Great Qian.

Factions knelt and surrendered.

Citizens cheered and celebrated.

From this point forward—everything flowed naturally.

If it were any other power suddenly absorbing such a vast empire, they might struggle with administration and order.

But for the Fang Clan—it was effortless.

Their Drunken Immortal Pavilion had already spread to every corner of the Great Xia. Its intelligence network surpassed even that of the former imperial court.

They knew exactly:

Which officials could be trusted,

How lands should be divided,

Which cities needed priority administration.

In a short time, Great Xia would be fully integrated into the Great Qian.

Its chaos would be quelled, and normal governance restored.

Thus, after the ancient Great Zhou, Great Xia became the second dynasty in history to vanish.

But from its ashes rose the largest and strongest empire in Cangzhou's history—

The Great Qian Dynasty.

Its prestige soared once again.

And yet... the march of the Great Qian was far from over.