The Great Zhao royal family was in chaos.
At Jinbian Lake, the emperor and nearly all of the royal family's core members had been slaughtered by Yang Cheng.
Now, among the survivors, Nangong Wan held the highest rank.
Around her, the remaining royal relatives gathered in fear and despair.
With the death of the imperial core, the various vassal kings across the Great Zhao Empire were beginning to stir.
If things continued like this, it would only be a matter of a few days before those kings marched into the capital—and when that happened, all of them would die.
A trembling concubine pleaded, "Your Highness, you must think of something!"
"Yes," another said urgently, "Prince Kun was His Majesty's brother. Back then, the throne was stolen from him by deceit. He will never miss this chance for revenge."
"If Prince Kun becomes emperor, his hatred toward His Majesty will doom us all!"
Their panic spread like wildfire.
Their fates had been tied to the late emperor's. Once Prince Kun entered the capital, none of them would survive.
"At this point," Nangong Wan said, her tone steady despite her pallor, "there is only one way—I will go to Mount Reincarnation."
The hall fell silent.
A moment later, no one voiced any objection.
To them, this was their last hope.
That mysterious Sect Master of Mount Reincarnation had shown mercy before. Perhaps he would be willing to help them again.
"But before I leave," Nangong Wan continued, "I must recover some of my cultivation. Without it, I cannot survive the journey through the Ancient Desolation Mountain Range."
Among the royal treasury lay a secret treasure—the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ganoderma.
To consume it, she needed the unanimous consent of the royal relatives.
Under normal circumstances, such permission would have been impossible.
But now, with destruction looming, no one dared refuse.
Thus, Nangong Wan entered the royal vault and found the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ganoderma.
The moment she approached it, a wave of icy coolness spread through her entire body. Even her crippled dantian began to feel warm and alive again.
She carefully plucked the Snow Ganoderma and consumed it petal by petal.
When the last petal melted in her mouth, a surge of energy rushed through her body. Her dantian fully healed, and her cultivation rose rapidly until it stabilized at the Martial Emperor Realm.
Compared to true experts, this level was insignificant—but it restored her strength and dignity.
"Congratulations, Your Highness," her maid said joyfully, though a trace of worry soon crossed her face. "But… how will you find Mount Reincarnation now? You've used the Snow Ganoderma. If you fail, the other royals will tear you apart."
Nangong Wan's expression didn't change.
Of course she understood that. But she had no retreat left.
Losing her cultivation and falling from a highborn princess to a worthless cripple had been worse than death.
That humiliation had crushed her more deeply than her hatred for the late emperor himself.
Three days later, deep within the Ancient Desolation Mountain Range, black miasma drifted through the air like thick ink.
Wearing black soft armor, Nangong Wan gazed at the endless ridges ahead, rising and falling like the spine of a slumbering beast.
"Reporting to Your Highness," said a deputy general behind her, "our army scouted eighteen possible routes. After careful comparison, three are likely paths into the mountains. Of those, the central route has the highest probability."
The report snapped her from her thoughts.
Nangong Wan looked up at the towering ancient trees flanking the mountain road. From deep within the vines, the low growls of beasts echoed faintly.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her whip and pointed toward the mist-shrouded main peak. "Take the central path. Form up. If we encounter enemies, don't engage—keep advancing."
Da, da, da...
The army moved out, the thunder of hooves reverberating through the forest.
For three days they marched, and along the way, they suffered seven separate beast attacks.
When night fell, ghostly green flames floated in the darkness around the camp. Fear spread among the soldiers like a plague.
Nangong Wan's face remained tense.
She had underestimated this journey.
She had thought that with tens of thousands of troops, finding Mount Reincarnation would be easy.
But she hadn't expected the mountain range to be so vast, so treacherous, and so devoid of direction.
With each passing day, her heart sank lower.
If she failed to find Mount Reincarnation, she knew exactly what would await her outside—she would be torn to pieces by her own kin.
As for hiding here forever in the Ancient Desolation Mountains?
That was no life at all.
Even if Nangong Wan had been willing to stay, the soldiers around her would never agree.
After all, they all had families waiting beyond these mountains. And the Ancient Desolation Mountain Range was filled with beasts. If they lingered here too long, no one could predict what madness might drive them.
Five days passed.
At dawn the next morning, when the first ray of sunlight broke through the thick clouds, the outline of a mountain peak in the far distance suddenly became clear.
"Mount Reincarnation!"
"Look! That must be Mount Reincarnation!"
Excited voices broke through the ranks of soldiers.
Nangong Wan's heart surged as well.
She urged her horse forward and stopped at the foot of the mountain.
On the cliff face beside the gate, two bold characters—Reincarnation—were carved deep into the rock.
Below it, a bronze incense burner released thin trails of curling smoke. Yet not a single person could be seen.
"Junior Nangong Wan requests an audience with Senior Dao Wuyin!"
Her voice echoed across the cold stone cliffs, carried away by the mountain wind and torn to shreds.
A quarter of an hour passed. Only the rustling of fallen leaves answered her.
No reply came.
Nangong Wan dismounted, straightened her back, and bowed deeply.
"Junior Nangong Wan requests an audience with Senior Dao Wuyin!"
Still, silence.
The mountain stood utterly still, lifeless and unmoving.
Clenching her teeth, Nangong Wan removed her cloak and spread it across the cold stone steps.
Then, she straightened her back and dropped heavily to her knees.
Thud!
The sound of her kowtow echoed clearly through the empty valley.
Behind her, the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. Some wanted to stop her, but the deputy general pressed them down firmly.
"Junior Nangong Wan requests an audience with Senior Dao Wuyin!"
Her voice rose again, echoing off the cliffs.
Silence answered her once more.
The mountain before her seemed like a tomb of stone.
Undeterred, Nangong Wan began to climb.
With each step, she bowed once—forehead to stone.
Each strike of her head against the mountain echoed louder than the last.
The soldiers below watched in silence. Moved by her persistence, many felt a deep respect for this imperial princess who refused to give up.
When she reached halfway up the mountain—after 1,000 bows—her forehead was bleeding freely. The dark red blood had stained the stone steps beneath her knees.
When her knees finally touched the 1,001st step, the mountains suddenly rang with a clear, ethereal bell tone.
Tens of thousands of soldiers looked up at once, their hearts trembling uncontrollably.
The sea of clouds above churned like waves.
A sharp, resonant cry pierced the heavens—bright and pure as a sound from the Ninth Heaven itself.
Then, their eyes widened in awe.
From the rolling tide of flames in the sky, a divine bird spread its wings and soared.
It had the head of a peacock, the body of a swan, and wings like those of a golden rooster. Its feathers shimmered like silk, and at the tip of each feather burned a vivid crimson flame.
"Phoenix!"
Someone cried out in shock.
It was indeed a divine phoenix.
No one had expected to see such a legendary creature here—at Mount Reincarnation itself.
As Nangong Wan and the soldiers stood frozen under the creature's majestic pressure, the sky suddenly darkened.
It was as though night had fallen in an instant.
The clouds above boiled violently, and a deep roar tore across the heavens. The sound alone shook the surrounding mountains.
Then, a massive shadow emerged—a colossal creature over ten zhang long.
Its entire body was covered in azure scales. Two huge antennae extended from its head, and its eyes glowed like twin blue suns.
The slit pupils were as sharp as blades, and when its gaze swept across the mountain, every soldier felt a chill pierce their bones—like death itself had fixed its eyes upon them.