Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Deal

“The value of divine weapons is incalculable. What you’ve offered is hardly equivalent to the worth of two such treasures,” Li Ju shook his head, denying Ling Yuan’s terms after he finished speaking.

“A divine weapon only reveals its true worth in the hands of those who can wield it,” Ling Yuan retorted. “In the hands of someone who cannot, it’s nothing more than an indestructible lump of iron. I wonder, Li Ju, does the Withered Leaf Sword and the Twelve Crimson Fangs serve you as weapons, or as mere burdens?”

Ling Yuan tightened his grip on his cane.

“…They are useless lumps of iron,” Li Ju replied with a sudden, quiet laugh.

After that sentence, silence settled in the loft for a long while.

Clang. Clang.

Suddenly, the clash of weapons sounded from outside.

“Surround the loft! Don’t let the murderer who killed the sect master escape!” came a chorus of hurried footsteps, a crowd wielding blades encircling the building.

The shouts from outside filtered in, but the three within paid them no heed.

“One more condition,” Li Ju spoke, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“Agreed,” Ling Yuan nodded slowly, meeting Li Ju’s gaze.

Just as Meng He, bewildered and unable to follow the conversation between Li Ju and his ancestor, tried to make sense of it, a shadow suddenly appeared before him—a tall figure with a sinister grin.

Meng He’s eyes widened in terror. He hurried to activate the jade medallion at his waist, the divine weapon that had always granted him a sense of security. This time, it did not answer his call. No matter how fiercely he channeled his internal energies, desperately infusing the jade with his life force—

Splatter!

His head was destroyed.

A headless corpse collapsed to the ground.

“Perhaps you’re right. Between clever men, there is never hatred—only interests,” Li Ju murmured.

Li Ju walked to a nearby table, picked up a piece of silk, and wiped his hands.

Ling Yuan stepped slowly to Meng He’s body. A glowing, pale green jade pendant floated up from the corpse and landed in his palm.

“The rest will be delivered to the imperial treasury,” Ling Yuan said, leaning on his cane as he made his way toward the exit. The death of Meng He before him left him unmoved. He was, after all, merely a minor Yuan Lord—neither exceptional in temperament nor talent. His life was exchanged to appease the wrath of a formidable figure, sparing the sect further losses.

Ling Yuan found Meng He’s death worthwhile.

“But before I depart, there is one more matter I must inform you, Li Ju,” Ling Yuan halted.

“In the past centuries, every divine weapon holder within the Demon Sect has met a tragic end, dying as their three vital energies were utterly depleted.”

“Take heed, Li Ju.” With that, Ling Yuan resumed his slow departure.

Li Ju watched Ling Yuan’s retreating figure, humming twice, the meaning unclear.

…

A day later, news shook the martial world: the Crocodile Sect, which had recently risen to prominence, was annihilated overnight, with only a few disciples escaping. Rumors spread that Li Ju—the newly appointed Grand Elder of the Demon Sect, whose name now echoed across the realm—had entered the Crocodile Sect that very day.

Yet, the Crocodile Sect’s backers, the Seventy-Three Gate, remained conspicuously silent.

“I only killed Chen Shifeng that day. Which damned bastard is trying to pin this crime on me?” Li Ju clicked his tongue as he read the confidential report in his hand.

He had never been one for indiscriminate slaughter; only Chen Shifeng bore a grudge against him within the Crocodile Sect. After killing Chen Shifeng, he’d left, never touching another soul. Yet, someone had dared to provoke him now that his reputation had struck fear into the martial world, using his name to mask their own deeds.

“Find out who did it—and then…”

“Draw and quarter them.”

Li Ju tossed the report to the Demon Sect’s spy before him, then reclined in his chair, leisurely snacking and sipping tea.

No matter what schemes Zhuge Huang might harbor, now that Li Ju had ascended to the position of Grand Elder, he would make full use of the Demon Sect’s power. Anything less would be unworthy.

“Master, is this pressure right?”

Princess Qi gently kneaded Li Ju’s head, while several other royal princesses massaged his shoulders and legs.

Half-closing his eyes, Li Ju inhaled the sweet fragrance of the maidens, savoring the comfort enveloping his body. For a moment, he felt nothing but ease, as if time itself had slowed.

Life is brief; one must seize pleasure when it is within reach. With power and authority, why not indulge?

As for whether Li Ju ever tackled matters of real depth… he could only say he didn’t. He feared poison—there were plenty of deadly concoctions within the Demon Sect, and caution was paramount.

“Master, there is news regarding the ancient Posa Kingdom and the Western Wu Kingdom,” his old acquaintance, the Fourth Prince, hurried in as Li Ju enjoyed his moment.

Li Ju sat up, accepted the intelligence report from the prince, and before opening it, cast a glance at the Fourth Prince—recently promoted to Crown Prince thanks to his sister’s merits, soon to ascend the throne.

“Has the delivery from the Seventy-Three Gate arrived?” Li Ju asked lazily.

“All items have been deposited in the treasury, awaiting your retrieval,” the Fourth Prince replied respectfully.

“How are things in the court?” Li Ju gestured toward the tea table, and a princess promptly placed a cup to his lips.

“Master, both the Seventy-Three Gate and the Demon Sect have withdrawn from the court. Now, only the royal family and representatives from other major sects remain,” the prince said with pride.

As long as those two extraordinary forces withdrew on their own, no other faction could block the royal family’s path to absolute control. Even if a major sect proved troublesome, the royal family had…

Here, the prince glanced at Li Ju, meaningfully.

With this formidable elder—capable of making both the Seventy-Three Gate and the Demon Sect yield—who could stop the royal family from seizing the court?

Even if it meant handing over resources, secret techniques, and women, what of it?

The thought that the royal family’s centuries-old dream would be realized during his reign as emperor made the prince’s heart burn with anticipation.

Li Ju, observing the prince’s ambition, allowed a subtle smile to curl on his lips.