[Beixu Continent (Desolate North) – Headquarters of the Five Envoy Sects.]

On a great mountain with a High-Grade Third-Level spiritual vein, located nearly at the center of the continent, stood a vast and bustling city.

At the mountain’s peak, an imposing palace dominated the landscape. Everyone passing through the streets would gaze at it with awe and reverence, for they knew that was the meeting place of the five envoy sects with the powerful and legendary forces from a continent far more advanced than theirs.

Many pedestrians would often stop there, looking upward, observing the beautiful palace, hoping for even a single moment to catch a glimpse of someone who had attained the legendary and invincible Nascent Soul Realm.

According to legend, in the past, some had caught sight of such a figure for only a brief instant — yet with that single glimpse, they entered an epiphany and became the absolute geniuses of their era.

In many cultivation clans, stories of ancestors who had witnessed the passing of such a divinity were passed down from generation to generation, treated as spiritual relics that could never be forgotten.

In the end, one’s environment limits one’s vision. On a mid-continent, such cultivators were not as common as cats and dogs on the streets, but neither were they impossibly rare.

However, on desert continents, where even a Golden Core cultivator was as rare as a phoenix’s feather, a Nascent Soul cultivator — something that could never be born in a place like that — was practically a living divinity, or perhaps something even beyond that.

In truth, most ordinary cultivators didn’t even know what a Nascent Soul was, simply calling them immortals.

It was ironic. While a mortal would call even Qi Refiners “immortals,” many cultivators from weaker continents used the same title for Nascent Souls.

At that very moment, inside the palace everyone admired, one of those so-called “immortals” sat upon a throne, his narrowed eyes fixed on the five men standing before him, all of whom looked at him with calm and smiling expressions.

“Where are the offerings?” he asked, his voice low and shadowed, yet tinged with slight confusion.

It wasn’t the first time he had come to that miserable continent — which was nothing more than his sect’s backyard — to collect the “offerings.” But something was off this time.

Normally, those five — masters of the five envoy sects under his faction’s command — would have already bowed humbly before him, presenting the offerings with servile flattery, like dogs showing off their trophies, begging for scraps as a reward.

After evaluating the talents, he would leave a few crumbs for them and take the offerings — talented individuals captured to be sent to his sect and its allies.

But seeing the contrast this time — the calm and composed expressions of the five, and the total absence of offerings — his face darkened.

‘Looks like I’ll have to replace this trash with new dogs. Do they really think that, with the crumbs they’ve received, they can bite the hand that feeds them? These little mutts are truly amusing.’

Despite the thought, there wasn’t a shred of amusement on his face. After all, this meant fewer offerings this time, not to mention the annoyance of having to replace the envoys.

Still, it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. For a Nascent Soul like him, raising a few Golden Core dogs to rule over a weak continent like this was child’s play.

Looking at the smiling faces that still refused to respond, anger began to rise in his chest, and cracks appeared along the armrest of the throne he sat upon.

“You useless mongrels! Answer me and bring the offerings, or do you want me to rip the answer straight from your souls?!” he roared in fury, about to stand.

But the one who answered wasn’t any of them.

“Stop barking.”

An old voice echoed beside him, freezing his heart in shock. Before he could even react, a hand descended upon his head, locking him in place.

His body began to struggle, trying to resist, and even though he screamed, not a single sound escaped his mouth.

All his resistance was in vain, and soon his body only twitched slightly — before even that ceased completely.

The wrinkled hand lifted from his head, revealing a sinister old man wrapped in a black cloak.

From his dark eyes emanated a faint shadowy mist, and as if responding to a silent command, the shadows beneath the man’s corpse rose up and enveloped his entire body.

Soon, a figure of pure darkness rose from the cracked throne, retrieved the only item that hadn’t been consumed by the shadows — a golden storage ring — and handed it to the old man before sinking completely into the great shadow that had formed beneath his feet.

The old man gave the ring only a brief glance, while his cloak — formed from his own shadows — slowly faded, once again becoming a mere shadow on the ground.

Then, his bone structure and appearance began to shift until he looked identical to the man who had previously occupied the throne.

Holding the ring he had received, he drew out robes identical to those of the former cultivator and, with a simple motion, appeared fully dressed in them.

Now, whether in aura, appearance, or height, there was no difference whatsoever between him and the previous Nascent Soul cultivator.

Turning to the five leaders of the envoy sects, he saw that they were no longer as casual as before. With clenched fists, they bowed deeply before him.

“Greetings, Ancestor Mo!” they shouted respectfully.

The former old man nodded indifferently and spoke in a calm voice — the same voice as the man before:

“There is no need to maintain the envoy sects any longer. From this day forth, the only voice on the Beixu Continent is the voice of my Infinite Dao Sect.”

He declared with serenity and authority, receiving firm nods in return.

Right behind him, eight men emerged from the shadows. The two at the front clearly appeared to be their leaders.

When they appeared, they looked like middle-aged men, but slowly transformed into young men with distinct demeanors.

They were the new “offerings,” destined to be taken away.

Finally, the ancestor looked toward the horizon, in the direction of the Beiyan Continent.

“As for the sects behind the envoy sects… we will deal with them.”

…

[Infinite Dao Sect – Refinement Pavilion – Two days after the Assembly]

At that moment, the inner elders were refining with serious expressions, giving the final touches to three sets of feminine robes.

From them, early-stage Void-Tier fluctuations were emitted, making the void tremble slightly.

During his visits to the sects of the Beiyan Continent, Aotian had collected many inheritances of excellent quality, and along the way, both Bao Wuji and Elder Snake hadn’t forgotten to stop by some pavilions to buy a few more.

In terms of quality, the sects possessed the continent’s top-tier inheritances, but there were too few for synthesis, so he had to supplement them with lesser ones — a need perfectly fulfilled by the treasure-selling pavilions.

Because of that, the forging, alchemy, talisman, and formation inheritances he synthesized up to the level of near-perfection already included those of Nascent-Tier.

With the few Formation-Tier materials he had acquired by robbing the twelve powers and their ancestors, he had enough to create a few sets of peak Formation-Tier artifacts.

Adding that to the current position bonus, Forging Master, of the Refinement Pavilion elders — which now increased the quality of refined artifacts by four times — the Void-Tier equipment used by all the sect’s ancestors was born.

And it would be no different for the three new female ancestors the sect was about to receive.

Soon, three colorful sets of robes were placed on the table — one green, another golden, and the last blue. According to common sense, ancestors did not need to wear colors that represented their position within the sect. Even inner elders were not obligated to.

However, to demonstrate greater unity and make choosing attire easier, Aotian decided that the elders would wear predominantly uniform colors. Still, they could personalize them with accessories and slight design variations so they wouldn’t look too rigid.

As for the ancestors, given their small number, Aotian gave them unique clothes with distinct color schemes.

Finishing the last details, Ting Zao, the leader of the pavilion, placed the three robes into a storage ring and handed it to Bao Hui, who was waiting nearby.

Elder Bao had a serious look, and without saying a word, took the ring and departed. His destination? The avatar summoning point Aotian had set up using Tian Zhu, the sect leader.

Entering a discreet formation that concealed the cave entrance, he passed through the solid rock, which soon revealed itself to be an illusion.

Descending quickly for many meters until he reached deep underground, he appeared in a vast, empty, and dark cavern.

Slowly, he stopped, clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and calmed himself.

Right now, Aotian didn’t have the energy to act out the personality he had created for Bao Hui, for he was about to have an experience unlike anything he had ever lived before.

“Let’s go… enough of being a crybaby…” he muttered as Bao Hui’s eyes fixed forward.

‘System, summon the three ancestors I bought.’

Ding!

[Summoning at the anchor point!]

The previously dark cavern suddenly lit up with an intense glow.

At its center, three curvaceous figures began to take form.

By this point, Aotian was completely calm and ready to face yet another madness in his increasingly chaotic life.

The light gradually receded, and what remained were three beautiful women with majestic and indifferent auras.

Aotian observed them through Bao Hui and felt strange at finding them genuinely beautiful. Their beauty was no less than that of Mu Luyin, Xiao Ling, or Jian Huiyin.

He had to admit that, if he were to judge impartially, even compared to his beautiful wife Liu Rihai, it would be difficult to say who was the most beautiful. With their noble and powerful auras combined with a more mature appearance, they might even win in a fair judgment.

Aotian’s mouth twitched as he realized that.

‘System… I only said not to make them look weird, I wasn’t thinking of breathtaking beauty,’ he couldn’t help but complain, feeling a headache coming on.

He only hoped that no powerful being with twisted ideas would see his female avatars, fearing they might try to force them into doing indescribable things. If that happened, his only choice would be to detonate the avatar’s soul and cultivation.

Ding!

[Host, to improve the experience, if the host assigns a pavilion to them, the system can make a few adjustments to their appearance to better match, and also generate a name. Of course, the host may refuse this function if he so wishes.]

Hearing the system’s words, Aotian pulled up the three’s status screens, which showed nothing but their cultivation level, since they had no name nor affiliated pavilion — which prevented skill generation.

‘Strange… system, you always gave names to the previous avatars even before assigning them to pavilions. Why are the purchased ones different?’ he asked, confused, trying to momentarily ignore the three new feminine perspectives he had just acquired.

Ding!

[Host, the avatars obtained through the sect mission are pre-prepared avatars stored for summoning. When the host advances the sect’s level, among those prepared, some are summoned according to the host’s ideas and needs.]

[Of course, even if the host assigns them to another pavilion, there will be no difference — it is up to the host to decide. The specific appearance of the pre-prepared avatars helps the host better merge the personalities he creates for them.]

[This is done to help the host manage the avatars and the sect more easily. However, the same does not apply to the elders bought from the shop, as they are created on the spot, and their specific traits are only generated after the host fully defines what he desires.]

Hearing the explanation, Aotian scratched the chin of his main body, thoughtful. He felt there was something more behind it. Otherwise, the system would have simply chosen a single method of creating names and appearances — either pre-summoning or post-summoning.

But no. It used both, each for different cases, and that made Aotian vaguely feel there was something hidden, likely involving the system’s own secrets.

Aotian kept that suspicion in his heart and asked no more. He preferred to observe and learn before acting rashly and ending up deceived.

Deep down, he was almost certain that the system held no malice toward him — on the contrary, it even seemed quite close and caring. Yet still, he didn’t intend to lower his guard, for caution never failed.

‘That being the case, system… let’s start assigning their pavilions.’

Ding!

[Affirmative, host.]

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