"Yes, Your Majesty. This lowly subject will never dare to scheme against you again..." Prince Yu hastily nodded in agreement, forcing out a few dry chuckles. "You... you truly are a living terrestrial immortal..."
A single glance from Fang Yuan had effortlessly claimed a life from hundreds of meters in the air, and his petty schemes had been seen through completely.
This time, Prince Yu had genuinely experienced the terror of Fang Yuan's power—whether in martial prowess or cunning stratagems, he was utterly outmatched.
"Terrestrial immortal?" Fang Yuan shook his head lightly. "Not quite yet. But soon."
After all, he was only missing one last **Dao Body Art** to reach the **Martial Saint** realm. He would first search for it among the nations of the Eastern Continent.
If he couldn't find it there, he would have no choice but to head to the **Western Continent** and "politely request" a copy from the **Federation's Holy Church**.
Hopefully, they would cooperate willingly—he'd hate to be forced into "dispensing justice" and making a mess of things.
"..."
Prince Yu stared at the Xia Emperor, realizing his metaphor had been taken literally. He could only offer an awkward yet polite smile.
He had only meant "terrestrial immortal" as a figure of speech, but Fang Yuan's response was so serious—could he truly be just one step away from ascension?
If so... that was utterly terrifying.
"Enough of this. Now, take me on a tour of your Baekje imperial palace..." Fang Yuan said.
"Yes!" Prince Yu snapped out of his daze and hurriedly complied, smoothly transitioning into the role of a guide. "This way, Your Majesty!"
Fang Yuan then strolled through the Baekje imperial palace. However, compared to the grandeur of the **Yan Kingdom's** palace, Baekje's was far smaller, its style and decor blatantly imitative—a cheap knockoff with little worth seeing.
Only **Yunsi**, who hailed from the **Frozen Abyss**, found it fascinating, her eyes wide with wonder.
But Fang Yuan's objective wasn't sightseeing. Under Prince Yu's guidance, he soon arrived at **Baekje's national treasury**.
A thorough search yielded no rare treasures. There was one **Dao Body Art**, but unfortunately, it wasn't of the **Yang attribute**.
"Is this all the junk your national treasury holds?" Fang Yuan frowned in dissatisfaction.
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. This... is all we have..." Prince Yu carefully chose his words. Truthfully, the treasury was well-stocked with precious medicines and artifacts—enough to drive **Seventh-Realm martial artists** into a frenzy.
But Fang Yuan's level was simply too high; these items were useless to him.
"Ah, now that I think of it, we do have one national treasure..." Prince Yu suddenly recalled.
"A national treasure? What is it?" Fang Yuan's interest was piqued.
"The **Seven-Branched Sword**..."
"..."
*Ah. So the strongest artifact was already in my possession.* Never mind, then.
---
While Fang Yuan and Prince Yu wandered the palace, one of Baekje's officials slipped away unnoticed.
Disguised as a commoner, he checked into an inn, then retrieved a sheet of parchment and began documenting the day's events.
...
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, in the **Kingdom of Wasang**...
At the heart of **Kyoto**, a series of majestic structures stood, their design elegant and steeped in the legacy of the Yan Kingdom.
This was the **Wasang Imperial Palace**.
Inside the grand hall at the palace's center, four elderly men sat in positions of authority. Their auras were profound, their expressions stern—they were the **Four High Priests of Wasang**.
Their cold gazes swept over the assembled nobles, at the center of whom stood a young man—the yet-to-be-crowned **Prince Shōtoku**.
Wasang's predicament mirrored Baekje's: their emperor had died abroad, his remains never recovered.
Yet, cowed by the Xia Emperor's terrifying reputation, they had swallowed their humiliation—not daring to even whimper in protest.
But who could have expected that their submission would only invite further aggression?
The Xia Emperor now intended to visit Wasang **in person**—and had even sent advance notice!
*The audacity!*
The Wasang elites were furious—so furious that they... got even anger.
What could they do? The **Battle of Frostfang Fortress** had made the Xia Emperor infamous worldwide—a god of slaughter who struck fear into the hearts of nations.
Single-handedly, he had nearly wiped out the Frostland's leadership. With such a record, Wasang couldn't muster the will to resist.
The gathering served two purposes: to discuss countermeasures and to await critical intelligence.
Centuries ago, they had planted a spy in Baekje's court. Over time, this agent had climbed high enough to enter the inner circle of power.
Originally intended to sway conflicts between the two nations, the spy now had a new purpose—with the Xia Emperor poised to overturn the entire game board.
Since Fang Yuan had gone to Baekje first, the spy's mission was to observe how he dealt with their court.
Now, every eye in the hall was fixed on Prince Shōtoku—or more precisely, on the blank parchment in his hands.
After an agonizing wait, words slowly began to appear on the page.
"It's here! **Ono** has sent word!" Prince Shōtoku exclaimed.
This was the spy's unique martial ability: **spiritual message transmission**, allowing communication across vast distances.
*"The Xia Emperor has arrived. He executed Baekje's newly enthroned king for resistance, while sparing those who surrendered..."*
*"He then appointed Prince Yu as Baekje's new ruler—the one who flattered him most effectively among their nobility..."*
*"Subsequently, the Xia Emperor abolished Baekje as a kingdom, redesignating it as a **province of the Great Xia**. From now on, there will be no more emperor—only a military governor..."*
With each line, the tension in the room eased.
*Good... good. It seems the Xia Emperor isn't as bloodthirsty as the rumors suggest.*
Had Baekje been massacred, they would have needed to discuss evacuation plans.
"It appears that as long as we surrender, we should avoid catastrophe," one High Priest remarked.
"Indeed. And we must ensure our flattery is sufficiently effusive," another added.
"That won't be a problem. We're professionals in that regard," a third chuckled.
As for Wasang being downgraded to a **province**...
*Meh. Whatever.*
These old monsters couldn't care less—as long as they remained the rulers of their little island, the title was irrelevant.