Cultivation System: Rise of the First Patriarch

Zan Yunxiao's lips curved into a faint smile.

Although his cultivation realm had not increased, the improvement in his sword intent was enough to put him in an excellent mood. After all, true sword intent was something countless sword cultivators spent their entire lives pursuing, yet many never managed to comprehend even a trace of it.

He gently ran his fingers across the blade of his sword.

The weapon emitted a soft hum, as though resonating with its master.

Zan Yunxiao could clearly feel that every swing of his sword would now contain a sharper edge than before. Even if two cultivators possessed the same cultivation realm and technique, the one with superior sword intent would undoubtedly unleash a far more devastating attack.

"It seems that mysterious place wasn't entirely a disaster," he murmured with a satisfied smile.

After carefully storing his sword back into the system space, Zan Yunxiao slowly rose from the stone platform. Since his unexpected experience had come to an end, there was only one thing left that piqued his curiosity.

"The frontline..."

He wondered how the war had progressed during his seclusion.

Without another thought, he raised his hand.

"Clan Interface."

A translucent blue screen immediately materialized before him, its familiar glow illuminating the otherwise quiet cultivation cave.

Zan Yunxiao's gaze swept across the interface before settling on the names of his clan members who were still on the battlefield.

His gaze settled on Shenyuu's name.

After selecting Shenyuu's name on the Clan Interface, the scene before Zan Yunxiao changed.

The image revealed the northern frontier, where Shenyuu and the Zan Clan disciples were still stationed alongside the Crimson Empire's army. The war had yet to end, though the balance had clearly shifted in the empire's favor.

Originally, Zan Yunxiao intended to return to his cultivation after confirming that everything was fine. However, after a brief moment of thought, he changed his mind.

"I'll watch a little longer."

With the Clan Interface suspended before him, he quietly observed the war unfold.

Two years passed in the blink of an eye.

Throughout those two years, Zan Yunxiao witnessed the Crimson Empire's relentless counteroffensive.

One kingdom after another fell beneath the empire's advancing armies.

The smaller kingdoms collapsed the fastest.

Lacking powerful cultivators and unable to afford rogue cultivators as mercenaries, they had no means of resisting the Zan Clan disciples. Against Foundation Establishment cultivators, their mortal armies were little more than an obstacle that could only delay the inevitable.

As city after city surrendered, those small kingdoms gradually disappeared from the map.

The powerful kingdoms fared little better.

Some rulers chose to fight until their final breath, refusing to surrender even as their capitals fell.

Others met a far more humiliating end.

Realizing their rulers had abandoned them and turned them into cannon fodder while attempting to flee, many soldiers revolted. Several kings were killed by their own men before they could escape the battlefield.

The barbarian tribes met the cruelest fate of all.

Rejecting every opportunity to surrender, they chose to resist until the very end. Their warriors fought with unmatched ferocity, but bravery alone could not overcome overwhelming strength.

When the dust settled...

The barbarian tribes had ceased to exist.

Their names became nothing more than a part of history.

As for the Golden Core cultivators hired by the powerful kingdoms, most had long since abandoned the war.

None of them wished to risk their lives for a hopeless cause, especially after hearing the terrifying rumors spreading across the battlefield.

A mysterious expert was said to be secretly protecting the Crimson Empire.

Even more shocking was the death of the Five Nascent Soul Realm cultivator, who had been found lifeless inside their own tent without anyone discovering the killer.

No one knew who had done it.

But the incident was enough to terrify the remaining rogue cultivators.

One after another, they quietly deserted, unwilling to gamble their lives against an unknown existence capable of silently killing a Nascent Soul expert.

Eventually, only one kingdom remained.

The Wolf Kingdom.

It was the leader of the Northern Alliance...

And the mastermind behind the invasion of the Crimson Empire.

. . .

Inside the royal palace of the Wolf Kingdom, chaos had completely erupted.

The sounds of battle echoed from beyond the palace walls as soldiers hurried through the corridors, their faces filled with panic. Reports continued to arrive one after another, each bringing worse news than the last.

"The Crimson Empire has breached the inner city!"

"Their army is already at the palace gates!"

Hearing those words, the King of the Wolf Kingdom turned pale.

His body trembled uncontrollably as he looked toward the only person who could still save him, a young Golden Core Realm cultivator standing quietly inside the throne room.

The king hurried over and forced a smile.

"Buy me some time. As long as I escape safely, I'll reward you handsomely."

Deep inside, however, his thoughts were anything but sincere.

"Just wait until I survive this... I'll repay today's humiliation a hundredfold."

The young man merely glanced at him before calmly shaking his head.

"Our contract is over."

The king's forced smile immediately disappeared.

"What do you mean?"

The young man's expression remained indifferent.

"You broke your promise. The amount of spiritual stones you promised was never delivered, and what you gave me wasn't even half of the agreed payment."

He looked around the crumbling palace before continuing.

"I'm not risking my life to clean up the mess you've created."

The king's face twisted with rage.

"What nonsense!"

He pointed accusingly at the young man.

"You're nothing more than a rogue cultivator! Since you've accepted my payment, you should obey your client—"

Before he could finish speaking, an overwhelming pressure descended upon the throne room.

Boom!

The king's knees slammed heavily against the floor.

His face turned deathly pale as the terrifying aura forced him to kneel.

The young man slowly walked toward him, his eyes filled with disdain.

"Know your place."

His cold voice echoed through the silent hall.

"You dare lecture a Golden Core cultivator?"

The king lowered his head, unable to withstand the pressure. Although he no longer dared speak aloud, hatred burned within his eyes.

"Just a lowly rogue cultivator..."

"How dare he treat a king like this?"

Even though the words were no more than a mutter beneath his breath...

The young man heard every single one.

His expression instantly turned icy.

"You still refuse to learn."

Without another word, he casually swung his hand.

A sharp blade of spiritual energy flashed through the air.

The king's head flew from his shoulders before he even realized what had happened.

His lifeless body collapsed onto the throne room floor, staining the polished tiles with fresh blood.

The young man looked down at the corpse without the slightest trace of emotion.

Then, letting out a quiet sigh, he glanced toward the palace entrance where the sounds of battle were growing closer.

"I'm afraid staying here any longer is no different from courting death."

His expression became unusually serious.

"The Crimson Empire's soldiers possess those strange talismans, and there's also that female Golden Core cultivator..."

He recalled the terrifying reports from the battlefield.

Although he had recently broken through to the First Level of the Golden Core Realm, he had no intention of underestimating his opponents.

Especially after hearing the rumors surrounding the Crimson Empire.

A mysterious expert capable of silently killing a Nascent Soul cultivator.

And a Golden Core woman whose strength far exceeded her cultivation.

Neither was an opponent he wished to encounter.

"My priority now..."

"...is getting out of here alive."

With that thought, the young man turned into a streak of light and disappeared from the throne room, abandoning the fallen kingdom behind.

Moments after the young man fled, a powerful aura swept across the royal palace.

A streak of light descended from the sky and crashed into the palace courtyard.

Boom!

The shockwave sent several Wolf Kingdom soldiers flying before they could even react.

The figure that emerged was none other than Zan Feilan.

Sword in hand, she advanced through the palace with cold, unwavering eyes. Every enemy soldier who attempted to stop her was cut down within a few exchanges. Some palace guards, seeing that all hope was lost, immediately threw down their weapons and surrendered. Others, driven by loyalty or desperation, charged forward without fear, only to meet the same fate.

The Crimson Empire's soldiers followed closely behind, quickly securing every corner of the palace.

Before long, Zan Feilan arrived at the throne room.

The massive doors had already been forced open, revealing a scene that caused her to pause for a brief moment.

The throne room was eerily silent.

At the foot of the throne lay a headless corpse dressed in royal robes. Not far away, the severed head of the King of the Wolf Kingdom rested on the cold stone floor, his eyes still wide with fear.

Zan Feilan swept her spiritual sense across the room but found no trace of the killer.

"It seems someone arrived before us," she murmured softly.

Although she didn't know who had killed the king, it no longer mattered.

The Wolf Kingdom had fallen.

With the death of its ruler, the last pillar supporting the Northern Alliance had finally collapsed.

Not long afterward, the remaining resistance inside the capital was completely crushed.

The soldiers of the Crimson Empire raised their imperial banners atop the palace walls, replacing the Wolf Kingdom's flag that had flown there for generations.

As a final declaration of victory, the severed head of the King of the Wolf Kingdom was hung above the palace gate.

It served as both a warning and a symbol.

The mastermind behind the war had met his end.

. . .

Inside the secluded cultivation cave of the Zan Clan, Zan Yunxiao quietly watched everything unfold through the Clan Interface.

From the moment Zan Feilan entered the palace until the imperial banner was raised above the capital, he witnessed every scene without missing a single detail.

A faint smile gradually appeared on his face.

"So..."

"It's finally over."

Although the Zan Clan had participated in the war, he himself had never stepped onto the battlefield. Instead, he had watched from afar as history unfolded before his eyes.

Now, after years of bloodshed...

The war had finally come to an end.

Zan Yunxiao slowly closed the Clan Interface.

His expression carried a trace of satisfaction.

The Crimson Empire had emerged victorious.

And more importantly...

Not a single member of the Zan Clan had fallen during the war. For him, that was the greatest outcome he could have hoped for.