As Emperor Chan led us out the city’s gates, the view in front of us opened up to reveal a picturesque landscape. The peaks of rolling hills were visible in every direction, and each one was covered in a unique blend of grasses and flowers. There were zero signs of the raucous festival that had occurred just one month earlier.

The road that led us away from the city had been made from qi-enhanced gneiss. This stone was so thick that, instead of a road, it seemed more like an endless, waist-high wall. Aside from a slight curve that allowed the stone to shed water more easily, the surface of this road was amazingly straight and level, since an earth cultivator had reshaped the local topography to ensure that its grade was never more than 1%.

This road was wide enough for ten people to walk abreast, but Emperor Chan forbade us from setting a single foot on it. Instead, we walked on the dirt path that ran along its right side.

Why not walk on the road itself? One of the younger members of our group asked this very question. He was soon answered by the sight of Rank 4 demon beasts hauling a cart down the road at a breakneck pace.

Of course, while this had answered one question, it brought another, more important one to mind: Why were we walking at all? Did Emperor Chan expect a group of Masters and Grandmasters to cross the territories of multiple Sovereigns on foot? Even if that were possible, how long would it take?

Once again, this question was answered without Emperor Chan even needing to open his mouth.

Half an hour after we left the city, we approached a junction where the road that we were walking along joined one that was more than twice as wide. And next to this junction, there was a spacious rest area where several carts and carriages were parked.

Most of these carriages were of a standard size, capable of carrying between four to six people in relative comfort. Some of them, however…

Emperor Chan led us to the far corner of the rest area where two carriages were waiting for us—though, it wasn’t quite right to call them ‘carriages.’ They could better be described as buildings on wheels. Each one was three stories tall, with each floor large enough to hold six decent-sized rooms.

The sides of these carriages were formed from onyx, the floors had been carved from marble, and the roof was covered in tiles of silvery mica. Holding these behemoths aloft were wheels and axles of some light-tan, high-Rank wood that I wasn’t familiar with.

“How?” asked one of the young women. “How can those things even move?”

Emperor Chan waved off to the side, where an old man with white hair and craggy, brown skin was leading four monstrous bison in our direction. Each one was nearly 10 meters long and taller than three men. “Rank 5 earthstrider bison.”

While nearly everyone wanted to ask more questions, Emperor Chan ignored them and motioned toward one of the carriages. “Masters and Grandmasters in there. Grandmasters will find a room on the first floor, Masters on the second. The third floor is a communal space.”

He waved to the other carriage. “Those who won the Disciple competitions will be with me. Choose a room on the first floor. The second is for me and Beast King Qongqor. Again, the third floor is a communal space.”

Without waiting for a response, Emperor Chan walked straight to the carriage that he had named his own.

I took a moment to study everyone’s reaction, then followed after. The Grandmasters among us hadn’t looked too happy with the Emperor’s arrangements, but I doubted they would be foolish enough to cause any problems.

As I approached the side of the carriage, my brow furrowed as I studied it in more detail. It was… wrong.

Neither the Hall of the Herb Lord nor the Hall of the Herb King had used any type of insignia on their buildings. The buildings were made entirely of living wood. That was all the insignia they had needed.

These carriages, though… They were made of stone. More to the point, every side of both carriages was emblazoned with a large, white palm. Did these carriages really belong to the Palace? And if not, why had a Sovereign-level force borrowed someone else’s carriages?

These were just more questions that needed answers. Thankfully, there was now an Emperor around who might be able to provide some.

Upon entering through the door at the back of the carriage, I found myself in a hallway. To my immediate right, a tight staircase spiraled upwards, and to my immediate left, a small washroom offered its services to anyone in need. Beyond these, three apartments lined both sides of the hall.

As I was the first to enter, I had first pick of the rooms. So, I chose the room on the left side that was nearest to the front of the carriage.

This room had only one small window, was no bigger than my tiny house in the Su Clan, and was entirely devoid of decoration. This didn’t quite live up to the level of opulence that I had expected, but it gave me the freedom to change the place to a bedroom, sitting room, or cultivation chamber whenever I wished.

Emperor Chan gave everyone some time to get settled in. Then, he called for a meeting on the carriage’s third floor. When I arrived, I got a taste of the opulence that I had been seeking.

The carriage’s entire third floor was a single open room. From the outside, its walls had looked like solid onyx. But from the inside, they were fully transparent, giving us a 360-degree, panoramic view of the surrounding countryside, and showing us that, at some point, the carriage had started moving at a blistering pace.

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At the center of the room was a round, onyx table that was absolutely covered in food. Five of the table’s eight chairs were already occupied by the Emperor, the Beast King, and three of the former Disciples, so I grabbed a seat to join them.

Once everyone had arrived, Emperor Chan picked up his chopsticks, signaling the start of the meal. As we ate, my compatriots attempted to ask a few probing questions, but the Emperor deflected them, ensuring that the conversation remained nothing more than idle chatter.

Finally, once the meal was over, the Emperor cleared the dishes by sending them into a storage bag. Then, the Beast King headed back downstairs, leaving us six former Disciples alone with Emperor Chan.

The Emperor rested his forearms on the edge of the table, interlaced his fingers, and took a moment to look each one of us in the eye. The cheery, middle-aged man we had just been eating with was gone. When he finally spoke, it was with the firm, steady voice of a man who was accustomed to giving orders.

“Before we go any further, all of you need to be made aware of a few harsh truths.”

Reaching into a storage bag, Emperor Chan pulled out a black box, placed it on the table, and slid it over to the girl who had come in second place in the alchemy competition.

This box was slightly larger than a pill furnace. When I first saw it, I thought that it was made of onyx, but upon closer inspection, I realized that it was a form of black jade. And, just like the carriage, each of the box’s sides was emblazoned with the image of a white palm.

“Zoeng FungJing, this is a gift from the Open Fist Sect. They would like you to know that, if you ever feel that the Palace and its Halls no longer suit your needs, then their doors will be open to you.”

Zoeng FungJing froze. Both of her hands were extended toward the box in front of her, but after hearing the Emperor’s words, she stared at it as if it were a deadly viper. “Em… Emperor Chan… What… What do you mean?”

The Emperor maintained a stoic façade, but twitching muscles in his hands showed his annoyance. “The first thing that all of you need to understand is that the Palace of the Herb Sovereign is a guest in this domain. The Saint of Heroes allows us to work her lands and recruit her people, but this allowance comes with certain stipulations. For example, if one of our members wishes to leave and join one of her sects, then they must be allowed to do so.”

Even if Zoeng FungJing was ‘allowed’ to leave, that was a far cry from delivering gifts to encourage her to leave, wasn’t it?

“Another rule that we must follow,” continued the Emperor, “is that we are not allowed to own any demon beasts. So, to bring all of you to the City of Selfless Courage, we were required to lease this carriage from the Open Fist Sect. We did not need to pay them any coin for this, but they forced us to agree to two conditions. First, I had to hand you their gift, personally. And second, we must stop in Hoi’kyun City, their capital, and stay there for at least five full days.”

The Emperor let out a weary sigh. “Hoi’kyun City is just the first of many stops that we will be forced to make. At each one, various factions will appear and tempt you to join them. And, honestly, I can’t say that you would be wrong to do so.”

He looked at each of us once again. This time, there was a subtle mix of resignation and concealed resentment in his gaze.

“The Palace might be a subsidiary of a Saint-level force, but this doesn’t mean much, since it is unlikely that any of you will ever be allowed to join the Temple proper. The urgamal talk of equality. They say that anyone can earn a position as an Ancestor—or even the next Saint. To an extent, this is true, but they heavily favor their own. You humans have it slightly better than my kind, since you have talents that most urgamal lack, but do not allow yourselves to be fooled—they do not see you as equals.”

He flicked a couple of fingers toward Zoeng FungJing's black jade box. “The Open Fist Sect is currently a four-star sect, but four thousand years ago, they were a one-star sect, under the command of a Martial Ancestor. Not only did they survive their Period of Decline, but they were also able to retain possession of the Ancestor’s Final Gift. Because you are both a talented alchemist and a skilled fist cultivator, the sect has chosen to share this Gift with you.”

Zoeng FungJing stared wide-eyed at the box in front of her. “Do you mean—”

“It contains a sliver of their Gift, and it is yours to keep, no matter what you decide.” The Emperor looked at her with solemn eyes. “No one can know what the future holds, but the Open Fist may be able to advance to a two-star sect within your lifetime. If you join them, you may have a chance to become a Martial Spirit one day. This is only a slim hope—one that barely exists—but it is more than the Palace can offer you.”

He looked around the table once more. “Go back to your rooms and consider what you truly want. Hoi’kyun City is only our first stop. By the end of our journey, almost everyone here will have received offers of one kind or another. You should decide now what it will take to purchase your loyalty.”

As we stood up to leave, Zoeng FungJing looked conflicted about whether to accept the Open Fist Sect’s gift, but, ultimately, it disappeared into her storage bag.

I turned to leave with the others, but Emperor Chan stopped me for a private chat.

“Su Fang, they will all receive offers. You will not. Do you know why?”

“I did too much.”

The Emperor nodded. “With the skill you showed, only Ancestor-level forces can afford you, but it is doubtful that any of those will be willing to approach you. They have too much pride. However, if they do come for you, turn them down. The only reason to join an Ancestor-level force is if you are absolutely certain that you can ascend to become the next Saint. If you cannot enter the Temple, or you choose not to, then try to join a two-star, Spirit-level sect, instead.”

I furrowed my brow. I thought I understood, but since Emperor Chen was willing to talk, I might as well ask. “Why?”

“Before a sect can raise someone to Martial Ancestor, they must have 5 Martial Spirits and 25 Martial Sovereigns. This, along with the energy needed to raise a cultivator to Peak Ancestor, drains a Bloodline of its karmic potential for millennia, sending it into a Period of Decline. To join an Ancestor-level force is to join a faction that is already in its death throes.”

“Whenever a clan—a sect—produces a Martial Ancestor, they enter this Period of Decline? Every time? For millennia?”

The Emperor gave me a single nod.

That… wasn’t right. According to History and Politics, the same three clans had been ruling the Nine Rivers Domain for thousands of years. Did Emperor Chan not know about this, or did he just ignore it? From what I had learned on the Nine Rivers Continent, I already had a good idea how these clans were able to accomplish this—by feasting upon the karmic potential of any outsiders who were capable of advancing to Martial Sovereign. But, I wasn’t sure why other groups on the Central Continent weren’t employing similar tactics.

I wanted to ask, but I felt that would be a step too far, so I decided to shift topics. “And, what of the Final Gift? What is it?”

Emperor Chan’s eyes flashed in surprise. “You don’t know?” He stroked his beard in thought. “Then let’s not talk of it. And don’t ask the others, either. This will make your path harder, but you may turn out better for it.”