Outside, all warriors stood battle-ready. I was pleased—despite my years away, the Sky Dragon Empire ran smoothly, its army unslackened by peace.
"Alang, take men to space and scout. Station troops on nearby planets for quick alerts," I ordered.
"Got it." Alang led over a hundred warriors, donning Dragon Armor, soaring into space.
"Wuchen, they're coming out. Should we bolt? They might've spotted us," two immortals, Wuchen and Wutian, whispered behind a meteorite.
"You're right, Wutian. Too many of them," Wuchen agreed. Only fools would face a hundred-plus foes with two. Sane, they fled before Alang arrived.
"Damn, those brats are fast," Alang cursed, eyeing their escape. To his men, he said, "Spread out, garrison nearby planets, widen the perimeter."
Wuchen and Wutian, lucky to escape, rushed back to the Immortal Court to report to their master, Wuming.
"Why're you back? I sent you to monitor!" Wuming, buried in paperwork, snapped, displeased at his disciples' return.
Seeing his scowl, they knew he was upset, but survival trumped all. Wuchen, the senior, stepped up. "Master, the planet you sent us to has, we estimate, over two hundred thousand troops. Over a hundred thousand chased us. Outnumbered, we hurried back to report."
"Hmm." Wuming nodded, his gesture forgiving their haste. Digesting their intel, he mused, Is Xiandao's Senior Brother meddling in the cultivation world? That breaks celestial law. Two hundred thousand troops, with a hundred thousand pursuers, suggested a cultivation planet—Immortal Realm had no such small planet with so many immortal soldiers.
"What's their strength?" Wuming asked, hesitant to clash with wayward cultivators, the Immortal Realm's foundation. Wiping out so many would wound the realm's vitality.
Wuchen and Wutian hesitated, too busy fleeing to probe. Wuchen stammered, "Master, their movement suggests at least Heavenly Immortal strength."
"What?!" Wuming reeled. If true, this wasn't just missing persons—it was a crisis. Sternly, he said, "Are you sure? This is no small matter."
Uncertain, they replied, "We can't confirm, but their pursuit speed suggests it. Maybe they used artifacts?"
"No, definitely not," Wuming declared. "Even peak-stage cultivators with top-grade immortal artifacts can't match Heavenly Immortals. At minimum, they're Spiritual Immortals." He added, "I must report this to His Majesty."
Wuming rode a cloud, racing to Emperor Ling's palace.
"What?!" Emperor Ling gasped at Wuming's report. If true, the Immortal Realm faced peril—and his throne. A Supreme Immortal himself, he knew his limits against Great Golden Immortals. If Wuchen and Wutian spoke true, their foes' Great Golden Immortals rivaled his own. Could they have lied to Wuming? Unlikely—they had no reason to deceive. Pacing the hall, Ling fretted. He'd conquered demon and monster realms, boosted immortal strength, and swelled cultivation ranks. Now, this crisis soured his triumphs.
Wuming watched Ling pace, holding his tongue. Even the calmest would falter. With demon and monster realms weakened, recovering in seclusion, the Immortal Realm had slashed its immortal soldiers. Mustering now would yield few.
Approaching Ling, Wuming whispered, "Your Majesty, should we seek the Supreme Immortals' aid?" Ling turned, brows easing but worry lingering. A Supreme Immortal himself, he dreaded their interference, yet without them, the realm faced its worst disaster. But their aid would dent his authority.
"No, not yet. Prepare, though. Report to the Supreme Immortal Council's elders. Send troops there and emissaries to probe their intent. If they're rebelling, you know what to do. If not, recruit them as immortal soldiers," Ling said, eyeing Wuming. He realized shrinking the army was a mistake—future crises would be worse. "Clear? Notify the Four Heavenly Kings to muster their forces, ready at any time."
"Understood." Wuming bowed and left.
"Big Bro, those two ran. Chase?" Alang returned from space, asking.
I pondered. "No need. They sent scouts, so they'll negotiate soon. We'll have the upper hand—they came to us, got it?"
Alang paused, then grinned. "Big Bro, you're sly. Cooking up such a flimsy excuse? I'm in awe." He mimed starry-eyed admiration.
"Heh, just noticing?" I feigned menace. "What about you today? What'll I do, hmm?" My laugh chilled Alang more than his wife's roars.
"Big Bro, my bad, okay? You're the bigger man," Alang backpedaled.
"Since when'd you get so sharp? You've grown these years," I chuckled.
Alang flushed. "Big Bro, I protest! I've always been sharp, just letting others shine. It's called, uh, playing dumb to be wise."
"Enough banter. Watch those immortals. If they sneak attack, you're in trouble. We can't stumble here," I warned.
"Relax, Big Bro. I've got this," Alang said, thumping his chest, soaring off with commanders.
Per Ling's orders via Wuming, the Four Heavenly Kings urgently summoned their generals, rallying troops to the Heavenly Court Star. Wuming, gazing at the serene valley, sighed—peace was unraveling. Steeling himself, he descended, walking in. Others might not know, but as Ling's confidant, Wuming knew this was the Supreme Immortal Council's enclave. Per their pact with Ling, they'd aid the realm in existential crises.
Wuming conjured a golden bird with immortal energy, its chirp echoing as it flew into the valley—the signal to contact the Supreme Immortals. The tranquil valley hid a formidable array. Without their escort, even Ling risked eternal entrapment. Rumors said top Supreme Immortal elders crafted it with divine powers. Anxious but patient, Wuming awaited their response.
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