The Hunting Heaven Banquet, held once every millennium.
The banquet precedes the hunt.
By tradition, the banquet is set at Mingxi, beneath Fate God Mountain.
To reach Mingxi, one must first pass through the Gate of Fate.
At this moment, Wujin Square outside the Gate of Fate was teeming with banquet attendees from the ten tribes. Holy carriages, bone sedans, ghost ships—densely packed, each emitting powerful Great Saint auras, showcasing their might through saintly prestige.
The ten tribes’ camps were distinctly separated.
When the Xuetian Tribe arrived, they drew significant attention.
The Seven-Star Emperor Palace, carried by eighteen Six-Tribulation Ghost Kings, was the most eye-catching, eliciting shock and awe from all factions.
The Ghost Lord’s eighth son, Hong, said coldly, “Using Six-Tribulation Ghost Kings to carry a palace, the Xuetian Tribe is blatantly provoking our Ghost Clan. Aren’t they afraid of united suppression?”
“In past Hunting Heaven Banquets, the Xuetian Tribe suffered repeated losses at our hands, always ranking last among the Undying Blood Clan’s ten tribes, receiving the least resources. From their gods to their lowliest monks, they resent us. It’s only natural for Blood Absolute War God to arrange this,” Xu said with a mocking smile.
The feud between Blood Absolute War God and the Ghost Lord was well-known in the Infernal Realm.
Thus, at every Hunting Heaven Banquet, Disha Ghost City’s monks deliberately targeted the Xuetian Tribe.
Though the Ghost Lord’s strength was inferior to Blood Absolute War God’s, Disha Ghost City’s power far surpassed the Xuetian Tribe.
Notably, Disha Ghost City ranked third among the Ghost Clan’s nine ghost cities, behind only Fengdu Ghost City and Wuchang Ghost City.
The Ghost Lord, master of Disha Ghost City, ruled seventy-two yin realms and ten thousand ghost stars.
Xu gazed at the Seven-Star Emperor Palace. “It seems past banquets angered Blood Absolute War God so much he’s lost his senses, betting heavily on Zhang Ruochen, a calamity star with enemies everywhere. This year’s banquet will ruin his reputation, and the Xuetian Tribe will sink into the abyss, doomed to languish for another millennium.”
Hong said, “The Xuetian Tribe produced Emperor Yu, with the strength to challenge the top ten in Hundred-Shackle Realm Great Perfection. They’re not as easy to handle as before.”
Xu, brimming with confidence, his eyes sharp, said, “But this year, Disha Ghost City produced me.”
In past banquets, the Ghost Clan’s top powerhouse came from Fengdu or Wuchang Ghost City. This year was an exception, with Xu as the Ghost Clan’s foremost talent, the most gifted and powerful to emerge from billions of ghost cultivators in a thousand years.
…
The Seven-Star Emperor Palace landed on Wujin Square. Zhang Ruochen sat inside, the palace doors wide open, with the Gate of Fate visible in the distance.
Forged from countless star cores, the gate was inscribed with runes—some burning like magma, others flowing with blood-red patterns.
The Gate of Fate radiated white light, forming a curtain.
The light seemed to pierce past and future, exuding an enigmatic aura.
“So this is the legendary Gate of Fate!”
Lanxi, Zhou Zhen, Hong, and Shentu Yunkong felt it surreal. As Celestial Court monks, they never imagined standing beneath Fate God Mountain, gazing closely at the Gate of Fate.
“Legend says passing through the Gate of Fate grants a baptism of fate, automatically generating fate rules within, making one a Fate cultivator.”
“Only a select few in the Infernal Realm qualify to enter the Gate of Fate. Could we have that chance today?”
Not just them, but all attendees’ slaves, maids, and companions showed excitement, their emotions uncontainable.
At that moment, a golden holy carriage stopped beside the Seven-Star Emperor Palace, bringing a subtle, enchanting fragrance.
Empress Feng, wearing a golden silk mask that faintly revealed her fair skin, her bright blood-amber eyes peering through, looked at Zhang Ruochen. “Great Saint Ruochen, we meet again!”
Zhang Ruochen nodded slightly in response.
Unfazed by his coolness, Empress Feng said, “As the Xuetian Tribe’s leader, you’ve never attended the Undying Blood Clan’s council banquets and repeatedly declined my invitations and visits. Such detachment isn’t conducive to cooperation at the Hunting Heaven Banquet.”
Zhang Ruochen admired Empress Feng’s composure and character.
No matter how he treated her, she maintained a gentle demeanor, showing no trace of displeasure or resentment, embodying feminine grace to the fullest.
Yet, this made him warier.
A woman’s heart is hard to read.
A powerful woman who perfectly conceals her true emotions is even harder to fathom.
Having promised Blood Absolute War God to meet the Undying Blood Clan gods’ two conditions, Zhang Ruochen could no longer ignore her.
At this banquet, their cooperation would be close.
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind. “I was indeed at fault before. If you don’t mind, Empress, please enter the Seven-Star Emperor Palace to discuss. There’s still time, isn’t there?”
“An invitation from Great Saint Ruochen is my honour.”
Under countless gazes, Empress Feng entered the palace.
The palace walls glowed with dense Great Saint and divine inscriptions, blocking external probes.
Other Undying Blood Clan tribe attendees showed anger, feeling Empress Feng was too indulgent toward Zhang Ruochen. Such an arrogant, rude figure deserved a harsh lesson, not her deference and flattery.
Their anger stemmed from jealousy.
Empress Feng was the dream wife of countless Undying Blood Clan monks, yet most, no matter how hard they tried, couldn’t earn her glance.
Only the tribes’ leaders knew her actions were born of necessity.
They’d received word that Zhang Ruochen would be the sole Undying Blood Clan monk to wield the Supreme Sacred Artifact, making his influence pivotal.
Though Empress Feng represented the lower three tribes’ interests, the Asura and Rakshasa Clans, competing with the Undying Blood Clan, would offer her limited support.
Thus, she needed the strongest internal backing.
Zhang Ruochen was that target.
Empress Feng, a captivating beauty, wore gold and silver, adorned with jewels, yet never seemed gaudy. Her regal aura and elegant demeanor sparked a strong desire to conquer in men.
Tall, with a curvaceous figure and skin so delicate it seemed to drip water, she stood upright in the hall’s centre, locking eyes with Zhang Ruochen above.
All the hall’s light seemed to converge on her.
Lanxi, one of the Celestial Court’s most beautiful women, a goddess to countless beings, felt her radiance dimmed, a faint sense of inferiority rising.
Empress Feng got straight to the point. “At the Hunting Heaven Banquet, I need your full support, Great Saint Ruochen. Our interests are tied to the same ship; no one’s are closer.”
Zhang Ruochen set down the scroll he was reading. “Oh? You value a monk with only half Undying Blood Clan blood so highly?”
Her eyes bright as stars, her tone tinged with sadness, Empress Feng said, “Even Blood Absolute War God values you. How could I not? Besides, you’re my only choice. Like it or not, I must place my hopes on you.”
Zhang Ruochen smiled faintly. “Do you say this to every supporter?”
She shook her head, her gaze dimming. “Supporters? Who do you mean?”
“Doesn’t Emperor Blade Hell count?” Zhang Ruochen asked.
Empress Feng said, “Emperor Blade Hell’s Qitian Tribe ranks first among the ten tribes. My Huangtian Tribe is second or third, making us potential rivals.”
“Even if he supports me, he’ll prioritise Qitian Tribe’s ranking over Huangtian’s. This divide limits his support.”
“The Qingtian Tribe’s Jin Kun Great Saint and Jingtian Tribe’s Yue Tinghai have similar conflicts with Huangtian.”
Zhang Ruochen, his gaze calm, said, “What about the Stone Clan’s White Jade Mad Lion? I hear its infatuation with you is obsessive, even offering to be your mount.”
Empress Feng smiled and shook her head. “Whether its infatuation is genuine aside, its strength is far below the Xuetian Tribe’s. And can a Stone Clan monk be fully trusted?”
“Why trust me?” Zhang Ruochen asked.
She replied, “The Xuetian Tribe ranks last among the ten tribes. Even if you take first this time, you won’t reach the top three, posing no threat to Huangtian. Our tribes have no conflict of interest.”
“Second, Blood Absolute War God likely told you the gods’ conditions. I have reason to believe you’ll fully support me.”
Zhang Ruochen nodded slightly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then, a selfish question: if I fully support you, what do I gain?”
Empress Feng removed her golden mask, revealing a flawless face, glossy red lips, and a refined nose, her beauty rivaling Lanxi and Emperor Yu.
With a stunning smile, she said, “If you fully help me secure the goddess position, I’ll marry you in a thousand years. Even if I fail, I’ll still marry you.”
To other monks, this would spark wild joy, inspiring them to fight for her.
But Zhang Ruochen merely raised an eyebrow, unmoved.
Not that he doubted her sincerity.
He recalled Great Saint Qingsheng’s words: “If you condense two second-grade holy intents, even your enemies in the Infernal Realm might set aside grudges and offer their prodigies to marry you.”
Though not yet in the Hundred-Shackle Realm, Zhang Ruochen had condensed a near-second-grade holy intent.
Huangtian Tribe’s gods and Empress Feng likely knew this. If she failed to become goddess, marrying Zhang Ruochen, with his second-grade intent, would be a fine outcome.
If she succeeded, as a goddess, she’d vow celibacy for a millennium.
Who could predict a thousand years hence?
Her promise, though alluring, was calculated, likely a strategy set by Huangtian’s gods.
“Is Your Highness using a beauty trap?” Zhang Ruochen asked.
Empress Feng smiled, donning her mask. “I’m just saying, Great Saint Ruochen, that whatever the outcome, I’ll be your wife, your closest ally. Among the three goddess candidates, you’d choose your wife, right?”
After she left, Moyin snorted coldly. “A goddess candidate from the Temple of Fate, resorting to beauty to gain Master’s support? Pathetic.”
Lanxi added, “Unworthy of being a goddess.”
Zhang Ruochen glanced at Lanxi, who lowered her head, her eyes filled with sorrow and pain. As a divine daughter and Soul Realm’s leader, she’d fallen to being Zhang Ruochen’s bedmaid. What right had she to judge Empress Feng?
How could she aspire to be Soul Realm’s future master?
Zhang Ruochen felt differently.
As his cultivation deepened and he proved his strength, his influence in the Undying Blood Clan grew. Even a peerless Great Saint like Empress Feng had to lower herself to curry his favour.
The Infernal Realm was indeed pragmatic.
With strength, one could have anything.
Empress Feng returned to her golden carriage, where Yan Beijun immediately visited.
The carriage’s interior was spacious. Empress Feng stood at its centre, her left arm behind her slender waist, lost in thought.
Yan Beijun, indignant, said coldly, “Senior Sister, you’re twelfth in the Hundred-Shackle Realm Great Perfection and a goddess candidate. Why demean yourself visiting a mere Immortality Realm Zhang Ruochen? What will others think? Prajna and Saint Yanhong are probably laughing.”
Facing away, Empress Feng said, “You don’t understand.”
Yan Beijun sighed. “With Emperor Blade Hell, Jin Kun Great Saint, and White Jade Mad Lion’s support, your chances of becoming goddess are high. Why humble yourself?”
“Though Zhang Ruochen escaped Xu and Saint Yanhong, it only proves a Time-Space heir’s knack for fleeing. His combat strength may not match an average Hundred-Shackle Realm Great Perfection, let alone a powerhouse like you.”
Empress Feng turned, her eyes colder than Yan Beijun had ever seen. “You know nothing of Zhang Ruochen. From now on, he’s our closest ally. Don’t offend him.”
Her gaze chilled him, silencing him.
But inwardly, he grew more resentful, believing Zhang Ruochen unworthy compared to Emperor Blade Hell, Jin Kun, or White Jade Mad Lion.
Senior Sister must be deluded to make such a mistake.
“Leave,” Empress Feng said.
After Yan Beijun exited, she sighed. “With his demigod body and second-grade holy intent, even if I become goddess, my future may not surpass his.”
“His strength may not be great now, but with Emperor Yu and a Supreme Sacred Artifact, I must take a chance. Betting with Blood Absolute War God shouldn’t lose.”
Nine bell tolls echoed through the Fate God Domain.
The Gate of Fate opened, revealing the majestic outlines of Fate God Mountain and Temple, an ancient, mysterious aura surging toward all monks.
The ten tribes’ attendees, on mounts and carriages, entered the gate.
As the Seven-Star Emperor Palace, carried by eighteen Six-Tribulation Ghost Kings, neared the gate, Zhang Ruochen felt an odd sensation.
The Gate of Fate reminded him of standing in the cosmic void, gazing at the Ghost Gate.
Why this feeling?
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, focusing on the gate’s energy, wondering if the legend was true—could passing through truly awaken fate rules?
As the palace crossed the gate, before he sensed fate rules, a strange vision filled his mind, as if he saw his destiny, his future.
In the Blood Absolute Family’s grandest hall, festooned with red lanterns, oil-paper umbrellas, and drapes, it was a wedding night.
Dressed in red as the groom, he stood opposite a veiled woman, seemingly in a ceremonial bow.
The festive scene vanished.
What should have been joyous left Zhang Ruochen somber, his fingers clenching.
He was certain the vision wasn’t an illusion.
Like the images seen in the Fate Pool, it felt familiar, as if lived, yet alien and terrifying.
Why familiarity for something unexperienced?
Was everything truly predestined? Had fate arranged it all?
“Did the Gate of Fate show me my future? A wedding at the Blood Absolute Family? Who was she? Empress Feng?”
Her earlier words seemed linked, a cause-and-effect chain.
If Empress Feng failed to become goddess, Huangtian’s gods marrying her to Zhang Ruochen—would Blood Absolute War God agree?
Likely.
Perhaps Huangtian and Xuetian’s gods had already planned his fate.
“If so, Empress Feng, you’d better become goddess.”
Zhang Ruochen loathed being controlled, planned, or bound. His eyes hardened, resolved to defy the fate shown by the Gate of Fate.
