While the entire Mythic World was still in upheaval over Taiyi Zhenren's defeat, the Eastern Sea remained eerily calm—like the surface of a timeless, placid lake, unmoved by all the storms beyond its borders.
And indeed, from the start, Ao Qing, as Dragon King, had never cared much about the outside world's turmoil.
As far as he was concerned—
So long as he himself was strong, he had nothing to fear.
Inside the Eastern Sea Dragon Palace.
"Congratulations! Your Dragon Clan's Fortune has increased by 1 point!"
"Congratulations! Your Dragon Clan's Fortune has increased by 1 point!"
"Congratulations! Your Dragon Clan's Fortune has increased by 1 point!"
Chiming system prompts rang out, one after another.
Seated cross-legged on the grand Dragon Bed, Ao Qing blinked once—then smiled.
So the news of Taiyi Zhenren's death and the Chentang Pass flood has finally spread throughout the Mythic World…
Excellent.
In just the past few days, these prompts alone had earned him over 10 points of Fortune for the Dragon Clan—
And even better: 1 Evolution Point.
Fortune was hard to come by. Gaining this much in mere days? This was huge.
The higher the Dragon Clan's fortune, the stronger they became as a whole.
Ao Qing was delighted.
"Whew…"
Letting out a long breath, he slowly ended his session of secluded training, his eyes gleaming with profound light.
Over the past few days, he had finally completed the seventh level of the "Dragon God Technique"—mastering all its advanced Five Elemental arts, and being able to use them at will.
He had reached the peak of that realm.
However, he could clearly sense that he'd yet to break through the final bottleneck into the eighth level.
It wasn't something to be rushed.
Higher-level techniques always required insight, not just effort.
Sometimes, a single flash of inspiration would do the trick. Other times, you could meditate for months without progress.
As his training came to an end, the seven-colored elemental glow that had encircled him began to fade, gently flowing back into his body—vanishing as if it had never existed.
Around him, the elemental forces of water, fire, wind, thunder, and earth all dispersed at once, leaving the air still and silent.
Ao Qing opened his eyes.
Before he could speak, a few elegantly dressed Dragon Clan attendants stepped forward with a silken towel in hand.
He took it and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Then casually asked—
"Where is Prime Minister Turtle?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Prime Minister Turtle—who had already been waiting nearby—hurried forward and began reporting.
He delivered a comprehensive summary of everything that had happened across the Four Seas during Ao Qing's week-long retreat.
Ao Qing nodded in satisfaction.
In just one week, the Four Seas' overall combat strength had risen even further.
In fact, the improvement was even more dramatic than the previous two weeks combined.
Good. Very good.
"Excellent work," Ao Qing praised calmly.
The words made Prime Minister Turtle flush with emotion. His earlier fatigue instantly vanished.
"Your Majesty flatters me. All that I've achieved… is only because of Your Majesty's guidance.
Without you—there would be no Prime Minister Turtle!"
His words were filled with genuine loyalty.
To him, Ao Qing was a rebirth benefactor—the one who had lifted him up from mediocrity into true power.
Ao Qing waved dismissively.
"Alright. I'm not fond of flattery.
Now that the Four Seas have a proper foundation, it's time we enter the next phase."
He smiled faintly.
"Next phase?" Prime Minister Turtle blinked. He had no idea what his king meant.
"But before that—" Ao Qing's smile deepened.
"We must first… welcome a guest."
"A guest?" Prime Minister Turtle was confused again.
Just then, a shrimp soldier came rushing in.
"Dragon King! Urgent news!
Receiving Daoist has arrived—he's brought several disciples and is waiting at the East Sea shore for an audience!"
"Receiving Daoist!?"
Prime Minister Turtle's expression instantly darkened.
"This has to be trouble!"
But Ao Qing?
He merely chuckled, full of amusement.
"No need to be nervous.
If Receiving Daoist wanted to cause trouble, he wouldn't be waiting respectfully outside.
He'd have barged in already."
Prime Minister Turtle blinked—then realized:
Right… if they came to fight, they wouldn't be asking to see us.
His admiration for Ao Qing only deepened.
"Your Majesty… did you already predict that Receiving Daoist would come?"
Ao Qing folded his hands behind his back and said casually—
"Of course."
"Invite him into the Dragon Palace."
He instructed the shrimp soldier with an air of complete ease.
After all, how could a transmigrator who had read countless Fengshen stories not predict this?
During the Fengshen Cataclysm, both Receiving Daoist and Bodhi Daoist had been like flies—hovering around every crack, trying to poach cultivators and redirect them to the Western Sect.
Back then, they'd seized the opportunity to steal disciples from both the Primordial Heavenly Venerable and Tongtian Cult Master, slowly building the foundation of what would later become the Buddhist faith.
Many of their so-called "Buddhas" and "Bodhisattvas" had once been someone else's student.
So why was he here now?
Obviously to probe the Dragon Clan's strength—and maybe try to "pull" a few people to his side.
As for those dead Daoist children?
They were nothing compared to real profit. Easily discarded.
But Ao Qing wasn't just planning to fend Receiving Daoist off.
No.
He had something better in mind.
He was waiting for an opportunity to show the world that the Dragon Clan had a powerful "backer."
Receiving Daoist would be his perfect loudspeaker.
Because in the Mythic World, reputation was power.
And if you wanted to be taken seriously—
You needed a terrifying "background."
And Ao Qing?
He had already "written the script" for his fictional patron.
"But Dragon King," Prime Minister Turtle said cautiously,
"Receiving Daoist doesn't have the best reputation… and the Western Sect is sparsely populated.
You must be cautious not to fall for any tricks!"
Ao Qing grinned.
"No need to worry."
"Receiving Daoist? He's just here to deliver treasures to this king."
"Why wouldn't I welcome him?"
Want to read ahead: early Chapters on: patreon.com/Zefyrus