Chapter 392: Chapter 392

Tap, tap, tap! Li Yuan’s cane struck the ice and snow in a slow, measured rhythm. The deeper he went into the labyrinth, the blurrier his vision grew, the faster his strength bled away.

He watched his combat power plummet in silence. It had already slipped to eighth rank. A few more steps and it would drop further to ninth rank; a few beyond that and he’d become unranked.

He’d had his wolf pups scout these corridors long ago. It was safe, at least on the surface.

The Gravekeeper sleeping here intended to welcome him, after all; any sign of hostility would go against that cause.

Besides, the new Wolfmother was still a hostage in Naran’s hands, and a vial of his own fourth rank blood still remained with Yan Yu in the black market ghost domain.

Li Yuan had done everything a cautious man could do. For now, nothing seemed amiss. Stopping at an invisible boundary, he glanced at the 8~9 hover beside him.

Ahead, in a forest of ghost‑blue ice pillars, the hundred feet tall Yin-Yang twin‑fish carving loomed like a monolith. Pits and hollows in its scales formed tomb chambers. Inside each, blue crystal coffins held perfectly visible corpses.

Scanning the surroundings, his eyes narrowed. One coffin high above gave a faint jerk, and for a heartbeat a 0~1 blipped into existence. Then the numbers vanished, as if set off by his presence.

Extra guards besides the Wolfmother? Li Yuan wondered. Or perhaps one of these gods had stirred, decided it wasn’t time, and rolled over to snooze again?

The latter felt too coincidental; danger still lurked here.

Left hand on his cane and right hand drawing White Serpent, Li Yuan braced himself for any potential danger. When everyone’s combat power was 0~1, it would be weapons that decided a fight. He eyed the twin‑fish, paused, then stepped forward.

Instantly his own combat power plunged to 0~1.

The flame in his blood vessels sputtered out, and his shadow blood froze solid. A crushing, marrow‑deep chill slammed him. His fingers and toes numbed, body temperature nosediving.

Act now or freeze to a statue, Li Yuan thought. Now he had two options before him. Retreat or crawl into one of those coffins.

Just how did the Wolfmother survive here for so long? Maybe jade husks are naturally resistant to this vacuum by nature? He probed his powerless limbs; every scrap of strength within him had been frozen in stasis.

After barely half a minute, feeling the edge of his limits, Li Yuan chose to pull back. His objective was simple: erase the Yin mark left by that unknown entity.

Anything else would only drag him deeper into a quagmire he had no interest in involving himself in yet. So he ignored the disturbed coffin above and turned a blind eye to the previous Wolfmother’s frozen corpse.

He could picture her last moments. The gods had no need for a sentimental watcher.

The last Wolfmother had slipped out to watch the sunset; maybe that glow of warmth had rekindled her old memories, and the price was her life. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on noⅴelfire.net

Li Yuan personally wouldn’t have taken the risk. But she wasn’t him, and he couldn’t dislike someone who yearned to witness the beauty of a setting sun. Her death brought him no satisfaction.

Thoughts flitted past as he tapped his way back to the exit.

Waiting there were Naran, Snow and the new Wolfmother, who dipped a silent greeting.

“Let’s go.” Li Yuan said, looking at his wife and son.

He and Snow mounted a wolf; the nine‑year‑old Naran ran barefoot alongside.

Li Yuan cast a wry glance at his son.

“A Khagan must hone himself at every moment,” Snow murmured. “Even walking is training.”

Li Yuan said nothing, only brushed a hand through the woman’s long hair. Rank and duty could remake a person overnight. The goofy girl he’d known was now a steel‑spined mother of the Khagan.

He pulled a mask from his robe and slipped it on. “The tribe needs only one Khagan.”

Li Yuan departed the frozen tundra of the Western Extremes, then travelled east for a half a month before reaching the black market ghost domain.

Yan Yu inspected him head to toe before pronouncing, “The mark’s gone. But be careful from now on. The Emperor’s heavy karma fixed on you the moment you drew your blade.”

Li Yuan gave a small nod. He’d kept himself on a tight leash this time. So long as he didn’t make a move, no one would mark him.

After all, he’d squatted near the mass grave for ages without a hint of trouble.

Northriver Prefecture, Hidden River Province.

West of the Eternal Rest River, a hidden ferry landing lay shrouded in mist.

More than 300 armored cavalry clattered in, their stop as neat as a drilled formation. Their helms carried delicately cast bronze antlers, and when they rode, they moved like a single, unbreakable beast of iron.

At the water’s edge, two men in brocade jackets urged their horses out from the cavalry ring. As they appeared, a drab little awning‑boat rowed out of the reeds.

From the outside it was nothing special, but the lifted curtain revealed ridiculous luxury within.

The two envoys boarded, waved once to shore, and the 300 riders wheeled as one, disappearing into the trees.

The low‑hulled craft sliced southward. Amid the rolling river chop it was all but invisible. The two men sat cross‑legged in the cabin, eyes closed and not speaking a word.

They had come from Bright Moon Prefecture in Ocean Province, one of the private little kingdoms carved out by a provincial governor.

The Great Zhou was divided into nine provinces.

The Jade Capital sat in Sleeping Dragon Province, bordered by Ocean Province, Harmony Province, and Wildsouth Province.

Of these provinces, Ocean Province was the center of the current conflict, a gathering ground of the Five Elements Alliance. It was the home of Sacred Fire Palace, Mountain Hall, and Moon Reflection Tower. Apart from that, the Buddhist factions of the Secret Treasure Abbey and Shakya Monastery also called this region home.

To police such a nest of hornets, a governor had to be formidable. Yet when civil war broke out, this mighty governor curled up behind his borders, leaving the front gate of the JadeCapital wide open.

Any ordinary Emperor would have snarled for his head; the present Son of Heaven, plain‑looking but broad‑minded, instead tried to buy him. He offered marriage into the imperial line and promised that the governor’s daughter would become Empress.

The governor didn’t bite, so the Emperor invited an embassy to tour the southern lands. That explained the presence of these two men.

The first man was Shu Shiyuan, a staff officer and sixth rank at best. The second was Liu Tie, a fifth rank powerhouse under the governor’s direct command.

Inside the cabin nothing stirred but the river’s endless roar. After who‑knew‑how‑long, the bow thumped against mud.

Shu Shiyuan and Liu Tie stepped out. Two covered palanquins waited on the bank, attended by a pale attendant with an odd mix of feminine and masculine features.

Standing beside one sedan, the attendant bowed with a thin smile. “I am the imperial tutor, Zhao Gutong. Gentlemen, this way please.”

“Much obliged,” Shu Shiyuan replied, and without another word folded himself into the rear palanquin.

“Mhmm.” Liu Tie climbed into the front.

Zhao Gutong asked no questions. When the curtains dropped, he simply flicked a hand and ordered, “Move out.”