Chapter 363

The Great Shensi gazed at Qi Bai with obsessed eyes.
“Divine Child, you are the new sun of the Beastman Continent. Your radiance will shine upon every inch of this land—you are our new faith!”

His aged, hoarse voice grew more and more fervent. He shook off Mu Jia’s supporting hand, staggering as though he wished to kneel.

Qi Bai looked at the Great Shensi—who, in just a few months, had withered into little more than a skeleton, as if he had become an entirely different person—and said quietly,
“With your body like this, best not to strain yourself.”

Yet the moment the Great Shensi heard Qi Bai’s words, it was as if he had gained infinite strength. His eyes burned with zeal, he drew a deep breath, clearly preparing for another round of praise.

Qi Bai hurriedly cut him off, turning to Mu Jia and Bao Xi:
“Better call a healer first.”

For someone bedridden long-term, extreme emotional highs and lows were dangerous. Especially now—seeing the Great Shensi suddenly grow so agitated, Qi Bai truly feared he might just expire on the spot.

Sure enough, once Qi Bai spoke, the Great Shensi no longer resisted.

Bao Xi withdrew the hand pressing against Chai Mu’s throat, shot him a cold glare, then turned to leave the hall.

Chai Mu panted heavily.
“Who are you people, daring to trespass into the Beast God City!”

“Is it that hard to guess? We are, of course, the Hei Yao people who defeated Red Chai.” Qi Bai tilted his head, then added,
“Oh, and the Hao Xiong, Jian Hu, and Ge Han tribes out on the plains—they were yours too, weren’t they?”

“They too fell to my hand.”

“Impossible!” Chai Mu staggered up.
“The plains held thirty thousand troops. Wang brought another forty thousand from Ji City. You already suffered terrible losses against Chai Cang’s ten thousand—how could you possibly stand against my armies?”

“Terrible losses?” Qi Bai let out a cold laugh.
“Seems your men didn’t tell you the truth.”

Chai Mu’s eyes darkened. Those few who returned alive… had lied.

Qi Bai wasn’t surprised. What else would they say—that Hei Yao had crushed them so utterly they never stood a chance? Admitting that would’ve been a death sentence in itself.

The reality was simple: Hei Yao’s growth in recent years had already surpassed everyone’s imagination. Anyone judging them by old standards was only marching to their own death.

Mu Jia’s lids lifted slightly.

To think Chai Mu, locked underground for more than twenty years, could still manipulate the election of the Shensi. Chai Qin and Chai Chang thought they had found someone to back them—but they had been paving the way for another all along.

Mu Jia remembered what Chai Mu had been doing just before they entered the hall. His eyes narrowed, words like a knife:
“Anyway, Chai Qin’s dead—body ground to dust. He won’t mind you using him.”

Hearing Mu Jia’s confirmation of Qin’s death, the composure Chai Mu struggled to maintain cracked wide open.

He had schemed his whole life, only to fail in the end. Unacceptable!

“You… what are you?”

How could such powerful beings exist on the Beastman Continent? How could such a city appear out of nowhere?

“Out of nowhere?” Qi Bai’s voice dropped, each word deliberate.
“Hei Yao’s existence today is all thanks to you.”

“What are you saying?”

“You don’t know?”

Lang Ze stepped before him, voice colder than ice.

“Twenty-six years ago, the one you murdered for discovering your schemes—Bao Yu—was the father of Hei Yao’s Great Jisi.”

“Sixteen years ago, the young Silver Moon cub you enslaved after slaughtering his kin—was me. I am Lang Ze, City Lord of Hei Yao.”

Staring at Chai Mu’s ashen face, Lang Ze asked icily,
“Do you remember now?”

“You—it was you!” Chai Mu’s chest heaved, his eyes fixed on Qi Bai and Lang Ze.
“I should never have let you live. You ruined everything—ruined my plans. You both should be dead!”

He jabbed a finger at the Great Shensi and Mu Jia.
“And you—you collude together!”

The Great Shensi sneered.
“Chai Mu, I’ve told you before. The Beast God has not forsaken us. The Divine Child has already descended. You are a blasphemer. Living or dead, you will never have peace.”

“There is no Divine Child! No Beast God!” Chai Mu raged.
“You can trick the outside tribes with such lies, but not me! For a thousand years—during the Five Clans War, the Beast God never appeared. When the Xian Ling were annihilated, he never appeared. The Beast God does not exist. That so-called holy light of the Great Assembly is just your trickery!”

Qi Bai gave a cold smile.
“If no gods exist, how did your third-rank warrior Wang die with a single blow?”

Chai Mu’s pupils shrank. That kind of power—impossible!

Blasphemer, blasphemer…

“Pfft!”

He spat a mouthful of blood, staggering back before collapsing face-first onto the shattered stone chessboard.

Lang Ze crouched over him. After a long moment, he spoke lowly:
“Dead.”

Qi Bai frowned.
“Dying so easily… far too cheap an end for him.”

The Great Shensi did not care about Chai Mu’s death. His eyes still burned as he looked at Qi Bai.
“Divine Child, you admit your identity—does this mean you are willing to return to the Shendian? I will summon the Twelve Shensi at once and restore the Great Shensi’s staff to you!”

Mu Jia, standing beside him, lowered his head in silence.

Qi Bai saw this, and asked evenly,
“Great Shensi, you had seen me before. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

He left the words open.

Chai Mu, moments before dying, had called the Great Assembly’s light a trick. Qi Bai didn’t fully believe him.

For he had truly seen—beyond that light—something like another realm. Too vast, too overwhelming. A place only gods could dwell.

That was why Qi Bai couldn’t decide yet if the Shendian was a hollow sham, or if it truly grasped some secret. If they could probe souls, they might discover he wasn’t their so-called Divine Child, but a lone soul from Lan Xing.

And he wanted nothing less than to accept the title of Divine Child—an identity that would only invite disaster.

“You are the Divine Child,” the Great Shensi pressed urgently.
“It was I who summoned you. I feel your aura.”

Lang Ze demanded,
“What do you mean? Explain.”

“Cough…” The Great Shensi sat straighter, uttering words that would’ve made Chai Mu spring from the grave in rage:

“Our Mu Xiang clan are descendants of the Qi Ling.”

---

On the summit of Sacred Mountain, the Shendian’s rulers—descendants of the god-blooded clans.

The seven great families had scoured the continent for god-blood, never realizing it was right beneath their eyes, even receiving their worship.

Qi Bai thought grimly: so it was true.

Cang Xi’s bone bell had warned them—there was god-blood inside the Shendian. And the Great Shensi himself was that person.

Then the Great Shensi recounted the past.

A century ago.

The Mu Xiang, survivors of the Five Clans’ war, retained only a shred of the Qi Ling’s powers—the ritual to summon gods.

They knew full well the ones who answered were not the Beast God himself, but other divine beings with power. Still, having touched godly strength, they remained devout.

But over generations, their blood weakened. Where once half the tribe could awaken, by a century ago, only one appeared in decades.

Disaster worsened when the Shendian began its hunt for god-blood.

The Mu Xiang chief gambled on the “Summoning Array.”

On Sacred Mountain, the ritualist’s life force would lure a god to descend.

They knew they could never bring back the Beast God himself. But surely some other divine spirit could be called.

The Mu Xiang believed: if they summoned a god-child, one carrying the Beast God’s blood, he would resonate with divinity, bringing the Beast God back, restoring the continent to the age of gods.

So they drew closer to Sacred City, rising to power until at last, their plan could unfold.

“To birth a Divine Child,” the Great Shensi said, “we needed one more step.”

A perfect vessel—an infant body strong enough to house a divine soul.

That infant must be born of parents who had wholly offered body and spirit to the gods. Only then could the child be strong enough to endure such a soul.

But if no god favored them—the child was nothing but a failed experiment.

Qi Bai’s back chilled. He stepped closer to Lang Ze.

To “offer one’s body and spirit” meant slaughtering the parents.

And if the Mu Xiang only birthed one awakened beastman in decades, sacrificing their own would wipe them out in no time.

So most offerings were not Mu Xiang at all, but other beastmen with rare bloodlines, lured from across the land, raised from birth to believe it was an honor to birth a god-child. They grew up brainwashed, never realizing until too late.

This was a cult.

No wonder the Great Shensi’s eyes always seemed mad—he was a zealot.

Had they succeeded, they might’ve summoned a demon, not a god.

Lang Ze steadied Qi Bai.
“Bao Yu—was he one of your chosen?”

The Great Shensi shook his head, then nodded.
“Bao Yu was an outcast of Ling Bao. To remain there meant death. My teacher brought him to Dreamland, raised him with us.”

“His body being fit for the Summoning Array was a miracle. My teacher was a god-blood awakener—he aided Bao Yu’s cultivation. That is why Bao Yu grew the fastest among us.”

Lang Ze frowned.
“You said ‘us’?”

“I was a chosen child of the Mu Xiang. I lived in Dreamland since birth,” the Great Shensi sighed.
“At fifteen, I awakened my blood. I could no longer bear god-children. So I joined the other awakeners in learning the ritual.”

“Though I never birthed a god-child, I could still give my life for the Shensi.”

Twenty years ago, Mu Wei became Shensi of the Mu Xiang. Bao Yu returned to Ling Bao as a third-rank warrior.

But instead of keeping him close, the Mu Xiang chief sent Bao Yu back to his tribe, to strengthen their influence there.

And then—Red Chai revived the “God-Blood Resurrection Plan,” drawing in all six other tribes.

Bao Yu saw the deception and volunteered to join.

As Ling Bao’s outcast, his plight was notorious. Red Chai barely suspected him, and so he was chosen as one of the nine Shensi agents.

Lang Ze challenged:
“If he wasn’t chosen, how did his child become the Divine Child?”

“Though not chosen, his devotion was boundless,” the Great Shensi retorted fiercely.
“It must have been his faith at death that moved the Divine Child to choose his infant!”

“Yes, it must be so!” He stretched out withered hands, eyes blazing at Qi Bai.
“My very body is proof—you are the Divine Child!”

Lang Ze’s warmth against Qi Bai steadied him. He exhaled and said,
“Chai Mu was right in one thing.”

“Perhaps… the gods truly have left this world.”

Mu Jia’s head snapped up.
“Impossible! The gods would not forsake us!”

Qi Bai ignored the Great Shensi’s madness.
“At the Great Assembly, I saw beyond the light.”

The Great Shensi froze, staring at him expectantly.

For a thousand years, no beastman—not even the Xian Ling—had seen beyond the holy light.

“Beyond it was the Realm of All Gods.”

That was what Qi Bai called the void—vast, collapsing, devouring yet repelling all. A place only gods could dwell.

The root of the Five Clans’ blood, even his own existence, was tied to that realm.

The Great Shensi’s breath nearly stopped. But Qi Bai’s next words left him blank.

“The Realm of All Gods held no gods. It was void. No beastman can approach.”

Mu Jia whispered,
“Is that true?”

Qi Bai nodded. Looking at this beastman who, like him, had lost parents to the Summoning Plan, he spoke plainly.
“After leaving, I fell into coma. Perhaps because I had passed through, I wasn’t consumed.”

He told only what he had seen. What lay beneath, he would not guess.

But he knew this much: the Mu Xiang’s Summoning and Red Chai’s God-Blood Plan were alike—equally cruel, equally deserving to vanish.

The Great Shensi sagged, yet still pleaded:
“You are the last god of that realm. You can save us, can’t you?”

“The age of gods is over. Beastmen can only rely on themselves.”

Lang Ze pinched Qi Bai’s cheek, teasing softly:
“Staring at food won’t fill your belly.”

Since leaving the hall, Qi Bai had been quiet, burdened by Mu Xiang’s revelations.

“You think I was really summoned here? Did I steal Mao Bai’s body?” Qi Bai muttered, hands clenched.

Lang Ze unfolded his fingers, lacing them together.
“I don’t care how you came here. I only know you are the one I’ll protect.”

Qi Bai’s nose burned. He ducked his head.

“If it truly was Mu Xiang’s doing, I’ll thank them,” Lang Ze said, lifting Qi Bai’s face.
“No matter how wrong they were, sending you to me outweighed it all.”

Through blurred vision, Qi Bai saw Lang Ze’s face close in.

He shut his eyes, answering the gentle kiss.

Whatever that void was—whether chaos, or a divine resting place—it no longer mattered.

He was just a soul from Lan Xing.

A soul no longer alone.

---

The sound of flowing water, a warm breeze.

Qi Bai opened his eyes against Lang Ze’s chest.

He mischievously reached out, poking at the muscle. Supposedly relaxed muscles should be soft—yet Lang Ze’s chest was perfect even in sleep. Was he vain even in dreams?

Two pokes later, a soft chuckle rumbled above. Lang Ze bent close, whispering,
“When we leave this city, let’s find somewhere private…”

Qi Bai shoved him away, snapping upright.
“No! Not listening! You and your nonsense!”

He, a proper Jisi, would never… ridiculous. Absurd… though it did sound kind of… No!

Stop! Don’t think about it.

He jumped out of bed, tugging on his priestly robes.
They had business today.

Lang Ze watched his Qi Bai, lively again, and finally sat up, lips pressing back a smile.

---

Inside the second-tier meeting hall of the Central Shendian, small groups of robed beastmen stood.

When Qi Bai and Lang Ze entered, silence fell.

Mu Jia broke off from a conversation, walking over.
“Except for Qin Shensi, all eleven remaining Shensi are here.”

The Great Shensi himself was absent, unsurprising given his health.

Qi Bai only nodded.

“If Mu Jia’s here, the old man’s not dead yet,” he thought.

“Then let’s begin.”

The eleven Shensi glanced among each other, then sat without a word.

The chamber was arranged with a long table of thirteen seats.

At the head—the Great Shensi’s throne.

Along the sides—the twelve Shensi.

Now, two places stood empty: Qin Shensi’s, and the main seat beside Mu Jia.

Though Mu Jia represented the Great Shensi, as a Shensi’s attendant he could only stand at the throne’s side.

Qi Bai cast him a faint smile.

There was something wrong here.

This meeting was called for Hei Yao—yet inside this hall, there were no seats for Qi Bai or Lang Ze.