Chapter 122: Isolation

With a collective effort, they finally fought their way to the main gate of the Imperial Palace.

Staring at the vermilion gates, everyone felt a tightening in their chests, their breathing involuntarily growing heavy. The martial artists sensed the underlying tension; from the very beginning until now, they had encountered no resistance from within the palace, which was, by any measure, highly abnormal. Combined with their warrior’s intuition, they could all sense that a terrifying menace lurked behind these tightly shut crimson doors.

As for the men from the Ministry of Justice and the Six Fan School, for reasons unknown, their faces were tinged with a faint, underlying excitement. Perhaps the pressure of their duties had long made them dream of burning their own offices to the ground. One could see their hands gripping their blades trembling; were it not for the suffocating tension of the atmosphere, they might have been tempted to hack at the gates themselves. If they could leave a mark, perhaps it would even make it into the unofficial histories. In the future, they could boast to others: "Back in my day, I personally took a blade to the gates of the Imperial Palace!" It sounded incredibly prestigious no matter how one looked at it. At the thought of this, the men from the Six Fan School and the Ministry of Justice found their breathing growing even more rapid, their hands struggling to restrain themselves from drawing their swords.

Ji Junhong stood with his back to the gate, scanning the faces of those surrounding him—the martial arts heroes, the members of the Qiankun Sect, and the imperial officials. His gaze drifted into the distance, toward the throngs of people from the capital who were constantly arriving. Sweeping across the entire capital, he saw the sky-high killing intent and the weaving thunder at the city walls, where the Flying Bear Army was locked in endless battle. His eyes deepened, seemingly piercing through the capital and extending into the infinite distance, as if he could see the entirety of the Great Zhou, the four great legions guarding the borders, and the twenty-three provincial administrations.

As his gaze wandered, the radiance of the Emperor’s Sword in his hand grew increasingly brilliant. Once the light reached a certain intensity, it suddenly retracted, becoming crystalline, translucent, and flowing with a shimmering luster.

Ji Junhong held the Emperor’s Sword and bowed to the crowd. Everyone returned the gesture with a respectful bow in unison. Ji Junhong then bowed toward the distance, where the Flying Bear Army was locked in combat. Finally, he bowed to the heavens and the earth, to the armies stationed across the Great Zhou, and to every inch of the empire’s territory.

At this bow, it was as if the heavens and earth responded, or perhaps a mysterious, profound aura was converging upon him. Ji Junhong straightened up, ready to push open the vermilion gates.

Suddenly, a brilliant beam of light from afar approached rapidly. Faintly, one could hear Master Wen shouting excitedly:

"The little flying chariot is here!"

Interspersed were the frustrated, guttural roars of the living dead and the faint, high-pitched shrieks of a grown man. When everyone looked over, they saw two figures gliding at high speed on a wide leaf. The speed was immense; the living dead along the path couldn't even touch them before they were bypassed. The leaf even took a sharp turn along the way, leaving the scholar in the green robe atop it with his hair and beard blowing wildly, his face flushed with exhilaration. Behind him appeared to be another person, though his face was obscured. The pillar of light he held high was the only source of illumination in the darkness, emitting a soft, non-dazzling glow. Behind the two of them, a massive, dark mass of living dead gave chase. Originally, these creatures should have been devoid of consciousness, but having undergone some unknown transformation, one could now discern a hint of frantic exasperation in their vacant eyes.

"Form up! Defensive posture!" Iron Eagle’s expression changed instantly as he shouted.

Having fought to this point, there were only a few defenders left on the perimeter. The arrival of such a horde threatened to shatter their formation. No sooner had he spoken than Kun-Two stepped forward. The blood-red sword in his hand slashed through the air in rapid succession, releasing a continuous stream of crimson sword qi as if it were worthless. The waves of energy easily bypassed the approaching flying leaf and engulfed the horde of living dead.

The onlookers watched as ripples of blood-red sword qi swept through the creatures, cutting them down like stalks of chives. There were many living dead, but the sword qi was even more abundant. By the time the last of the creatures fell, the sword qi dissipated perfectly, demonstrating a mastery of the battlefield and precision of control that had reached the peak of perfection.

Once the group was dispatched, Kun-Two calmly sheathed his crimson blade and returned to the crowd, as if he had performed a trivial task. Silence reigned. The men from the Six Fan School and the Ministry of Justice quietly shrank back; they knew better than to provoke him.

"Hahahaha!"

As the leaf landed before the group, Master Wen jumped off first. There was not a trace of exhaustion on his face, only an excited flush. "My Lord, how could such a grand event proceed without me?"

"You have worked hard, Master," Ji Junhong nodded, his eyes smiling. He suddenly felt that Master Wen possessed an inexplicable, youthful vitality.

Li Zhi stepped off the leaf, his legs trembling and his face deathly pale—he was likely suffering from motion sickness. Even so, he clutched the pillar of light firmly. Trembling, he walked toward Ji Junhong, his hands supporting a bronze chime.

Everyone’s eyes fell upon the brilliant light, their expressions turning solemn, with some even bowing their heads in reverence. Ji Junhong set aside his smile, puffed out his chest, and stood straight, silently watching the artifact that radiated infinite glory. Li Zhi, gasping for breath, presented the bronze chime with both hands, his expression weary but his tone filled with an indescribable weight and depth.

"Young Master, I have fulfilled the mission."

Ji Junhong’s expression was grave as he received it with both hands, nodding softly. "My thanks."

He looked at the brilliant radiance in his hands, feeling the Emperor’s Sword at his waist tremble slightly, his eyes growing gentle.

"This is the first time I have truly felt... the power of the human race's legacy."

Ji Junhong spoke softly, reaching out to stroke the void, as if caressing the source of the light. As his fingers brushed past, the light seemed to sense something, flickering more intensely before expanding rapidly, becoming even more dazzling and radiant. It was as if it were the only light in this deep darkness. Even from afar, it could be seen.

Ji Junhong took a deep breath and gently released his hands. The bronze chime hovered in mid-air, its light falling upon everyone's faces. The crowd instinctively gathered around it, as if huddling toward their only hope.

Ji Junhong smiled, walked up to the thirty-five-meter-tall vermilion gates, and pushed them open with one hand. The gates creaked open, revealing the Imperial Guards standing silently inside. It was a dense, dark mass, and it was impossible to tell how many there were. Everyone’s heart sank; these were not the