When that time came, the worldly factions and Daoist orders would again have to compete over who had deeper pockets and who possessed more ancient heritages.
As an orthodox god who took part in the ancient war of immortals and gods, Mitian was not only proficient in divine arts, but also intimately familiar with countless immortal arts and secret techniques. As long as she was willing to share, Panlong City, despite its late arrival on the world stage, would have little to worry about on that front.
However, He Lingchuan quickly cooled down.
He was no longer the youth who had first entered the Panlong World three years ago, ready to believe whole cloth whenever someone painted a rosy picture.
From what Zhong Shengguang said, this was the highest peak in two hundred years? That meant a spiritual energy tide had also appeared over two hundred years ago, yet the mortal world had still failed to usher in a true resurgence.
Over the past two to three thousand years, who knew how many times such a cycle had played out?
Sure enough, Zhong Shengguang's next words were:
"However, we cannot be blindly optimistic. Every resurgence of spiritual energy has an end, and the ultimate cause still lies—"
He pointed toward the sky.
He Lingchuan understood. "The Tianluo Star. The Heavenly Fiends."
"Spiritual energy in the mortal world has finally shown signs of recovery; this time, we cannot let the Heavenly Fiends have their way again!" Zhong Shengguang paced over to the window. "The frequent descents of Emperor's Flowing Dew certainly owe something to Lingshan's actions, but Mitian's Dragon-Torture Pillars deserve the greatest credit."
The Dragon-Torture Pillars could absorb nightmare energy in the mortal realm, serving as a powerful boost for gods and Heavenly Fiends dwelling in another world to level up their strength. General Red casting Dragon-Torture Pillars into this world would inevitably draw the Heavenly Fiends to fight over them—an open scheme laid bare in plain sight.
He Lingchuan's mind stirred. "Where did Mr. Shao Jian go?"
"He only sent back word two months ago that he had finally reached the Shanjin Plain. That place is far away, further east beyond Beijia. But with a chaotic mix of forces and numerous petty states rising and falling overnight, it is an ideal place to plant the Dragon-Torture Pillars."
He Lingchuan nodded instinctively. It was just as he thought.
Reality and history aligned right here.
"Beyond planting the Dragon-Torture Pillars and observing the Shanjin Plain, Shao Jian also has to investigate something for us." Zhong Shengguang hesitated noticeably before continuing, "The eruption of Emperor's Flowing Dew came faster than we estimated. This is a good thing for everyone, but not necessarily for General Red."
He Lingchuan felt a chill. "What went wrong?"
"You were promoted by General Red herself, and you know some of the inside truth regarding the Dafang Pot and the Dragon-Torture Pillars. What you know is already more than what General Nan Ke and the others know."
He Lingchuan could only give a brief "Yes."
For Zhong Shengguang to open with this meant that whatever followed would be closely guarded secrets that could not be shared with others.
"Then you must also realize that General Red does not carry out Mitian's will at all times."
"Yes."
He Lingchuan's original self had once been a vessel slated for Nailuotian. He knew that a god's descent could not last long, and that each time inflicted tremendous harm on the vessel.
Six years had passed since Zhong Shengguang's first deity blood sacrifice; Mitian naturally could not possess General Red's body around the clock.
So whose will did General Red's everyday words and deeds represent?
He Lingchuan believed she represented herself.
Thus, for most of the time—when Mitian had not descended—General Red should possess her own independent personality and thoughts.
Yet, for Zhong Shengguang to suddenly bring this up, had some problem arisen between the two?
Zhong Shengguang walked over to stand before him, his gaze searching. "I ask you, He Lingchuan. Are you loyal to me, to Panlong City, to General Red, or to Mitian?"
To most soldiers in Panlong City, these four questions were one and the same. Wouldn't loyalty to Zhong Shengguang mean loyalty to Panlong City? Wouldn't loyalty to General Red mean loyalty to Mitian?
What difference was there?
Yet He Lingchuan understood his unspoken meaning all too well. Thus, he answered decisively:
"I am loyal to Panlong City!"
Whatever he loved and whatever he believed in, that was what he was loyal to.
"Fighting for Panlong City is fighting for myself."
"Good, good." Even though he had not chosen Zhong Shengguang, Commander Zhong was undeniably pleased with his answer. "She truly didn't misjudge you."
She?
Since He Lingchuan clearly understood Mitian and General Red were not one and the same at all times, Zhong Shengguang spoke plainly: "Mitian is a celestial god, after all; it has its own motives for aiding Panlong City. Though my blood sacrifice to the deity back then was out of necessity, I still anticipated what the future might bring."
The opportunity was rare, and He Lingchuan asked immediately, "What does Mitian truly want?"
Zhong Shengguang looked at him steadily, pondering for a long time before murmuring, "The mortal realm."
The mortal realm? What did that mean?
"I was the one who used the Dafang Pot as a bargaining chip to draw it down to the mortal realm." Every word leaving Zhong Shengguang's mouth now was an earth-shattering secret. "Listen carefully: although General Red possesses a demigod body and her cultivation has grown far faster than that of ordinary cultivators over the years, she is still incapable of containing the full power of an orthodox god."
He Lingchuan did not press further.
The celestial god Shi Nan had already told him that existing human bodies could never fully bear a deity's supreme divine power, let alone an orthodox god like Mitian. Therefore, what descended for brief periods was usually nothing more than a wisp of an avatar.
And General Red's existence had already drawn the interest of other celestial gods.
How had Mitian pulled it off?
"Because of this, most of the shock and damage caused by Mitian's descent is borne by the Dafang Pot on General Red's behalf."
So that was it! He Lingchuan held his breath for a moment. So that was it!
This was the secret of how General Red could repeatedly host Mitian's divine descent while emerging virtually unharmed!
She was relying on the power of the Dafang Pot.
"Yet Mitian is not satisfied with the status quo," Zhong Shengguang continued. "It wants General Red to grow strong as quickly as possible so she can bear more divine power and unleash even mightier supernatural abilities! If it is twenty percent right now, in the future it might be fifty percent, or seventy percent..."
He stopped there, but He Lingchuan was already shaken:
"And one day, perhaps ninety percent, or even one hundred percent?"
Never mind one hundred percent—if General Red could bear eighty percent of Mitian's divine power, who in this world could still stand against Mitian?
What difference would that be from Mitian descending to the mortal world in person?
In an era where immortals had withered and Heavenly Fiends could not walk the mortal world, would Mitian become the sole true god?
That was why Zhong Shengguang said Mitian's goal was "the mortal realm."
"No blessing for the mortal realm." A chill ran through He Lingchuan's heart. "Did you know this all along?"
Arrogant as Beijia was, and detestable as the Heavenly Fiends were, the influence they exerted on this world was indirect.
Mitian was different.
"How could I have seen through the mind of a celestial god from the start?" Zhong Shengguang murmured. "General Red told me. Her... her own consciousness has been there all along. It never vanished."
He Lingchuan fell silent for a long time before saying, "Drawing Mitian in was truly a perilous move."
"Driving a tiger to swallow a wolf—doing what one knows must not be done." Zhong Shengguang let out a long sigh.
Why resort to the power of a celestial god? In the end, it was because the strength of "mortals" was far too feeble.
A chasm lay between his strength and his grand ambition, one that required outside force to bridge step by step.
This, too, was taking a desperate gamble.
Chapter 1090