After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 67

Ye Qingge was momentarily stunned, the image of that figure collapsed in a pool of blood resurfacing before her eyes once more.

“Divine Maiden?” The guard, noticing her face instantly turn deathly pale, grew somewhat anxious. “Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

Crack—

The sound of bone snapping echoed, and the bloody nightmare before Ye Qingge’s eyes dissipated. She lowered her sleeve, concealing the broken finger.

The guard had only heard the sound of the bone breaking, not connecting it at all to the person before him, and merely asked again, “Shall we eradicate that plant as well?”

Emerging from the nightmare, Ye Qingge’s face remained pale as she replied indifferently, “Eradicate it.”

The guard acknowledged the order, and by the time he looked up again, the Divine Maiden had already vanished.

By the time Ye Qingge came to a stop before Qingyang Hall, her heart was still racing wildly.

She raised a hand to her chest, closing her eyes quietly to feel the frantic beating.

Why had she lost control so suddenly?

Her broken pinky throbbed painfully; the slender, pale joint hidden beneath her sleeve had already swollen and darkened to purple from the congestion of blood.

Ye Qingge’s gaze lingered on her pinky finger, but she made no move to reset it.

“Master.”

A flash of blue light swiftly coalesced, forming a young woman in flowing azure robes. Shuanghan knelt before Ye Qingge. “We have captured the fleeing Sijiu and Wuli. However, by the time we arrived, a mountain fire had already consumed them. They have now reverted to their original forms.”

As she spoke, Shuanghan slightly averted her gaze, and the celestial soldiers behind her brought forward a stretcher. The scorched red snake and soaring bird were entangled together, lifeless and charred.

A flicker of disdain passed through Ye Qingge’s eyes. She did not bother to look, merely letting out a soft, cold laugh.

The blue-robed maiden at her feet was slightly taken aback, tilting her head in confusion.

“Then hang them above Yamang Sea,” Ye Qingge said calmly, withdrawing her gaze. “From today onward, you will no longer revert to your sword form. Stay by my side.”

“You have been a sword for too long; there is much you fail to see,” Shuanghan murmured.

The blue-robed maiden was momentarily stunned, then immediately understood. She prostrated herself fully, kowtowing with utmost reverence. “Yes, Master.”

Word of Wuli and Sijiu’s retrieval spread swiftly across the Nine Provinces.

Clans who had long suffered under their tyranny hastened to pay homage to Ye Qingge.

Soon, the great hall brimmed with kneeling figures, yet not a single voice dared to rise above a whisper.

“Welcome the Divine Maiden’s ascension to the throne.”

At the forefront stood the Wuji Mystic Master, resplendent in sapphire robes, holding aloft the golden crown and seal of the empress, awaiting Ye Qingge in the center of the hall.

Ye Qingge, having sensed the commotion long before reaching the hall, stood at the entrance, her cold gaze sweeping over the bowing multitude.

The ascension of a new empress heralded a dispersal of spiritual power under the full moon.

All the spirit clans had gathered, awaiting Ye Qingge’s entry to bestow grace upon the world.

“Divine Maiden Ye Qingge, endowed with exceptional talent, has faithfully upheld her duties since inheriting the title, protecting our immortal realm for a millennium. Now that she has mastered the Path of Heartlessness, we beseech her to ascend the throne and unite the Three Realms!”

The moment the Wuji Mystic Master’s words fell, the kneeling celestial officials echoed in unison:

“May the Divine Maiden ascend the throne and unite the Three Realms!”

“May the Divine Maiden ascend the throne and unite the Three Realms!”

“May the Divine Maiden ascend the throne and unite the Three Realms!”

Ye Qingge’s cold gaze swept over the prostrating crowd. All she felt was bitter irony.

During the three days she had lain unconscious, these very celestial beings had allowed the snakes and birds to ravage the mortal realm for three long years.

Now, the moment she awoke, they were in a hurry to push her onto the throne.

They hadn’t even investigated the feigned deaths of the snake and the soaring bird, claiming instead that they required the Divine Maiden’s guidance.

In truth, each of them was cowardly and self-serving, basking in the adoration of the masses while shirking their responsibilities as leaders.

Ye Qingge swept a scornful gaze over the kneeling figures as she strode gracefully into the hall. Her attire shimmered and shifted with her movements, announcing her presence like the first frost of winter.

The empress’s crown blazed with opulent grandeur, and the dark, majestic robes she wore emphasized the aura of a transcendent immortal who commanded all beneath her gaze. Her phoenix eyes glimmered with icy detachment, her ethereal beauty sharpened by the shadows of her robes, radiating unapproachable pride. The sheer authority etched in her brow instilled fear in every onlooker.

Ascending the throne, she looked down upon the prostrate immortals.

One by one, the kneeling celestial officials lifted their heads, staring up at the empress perched high above. The figure on the dais radiated an inescapable presence.

As Ye Qingge placed the crown upon her head, a crimson dot bloomed between her brows. Like a red plum blossom resting atop frost and snow: breathtaking, arresting, and fatal in its beauty.

From her throne, she looked down on the kneeling officials and let a cold smile curve her lips.

“All celestial officials, heed the decree.”

The empress’s voice cut through the hall like a blade. The kneeling officials stiffened, a chill crawling along their spines. They bowed their heads deeply, waiting, but before any words of congratulation could escape, the voice rang out again.

“All presiding celestial officials have proven themselves unworthy. They shall have their immortal bones extracted and be cast into the Court of Yanluo, forever barred from the cycle of reincarnation.”

Her tone was steady, cold, unflinching—yet, like a pebble thrown into a still lake, it rippled through the hall with devastating force.

The immortals in the front row paled, voices trembling as they begged in unison, “Your Majesty, have mercy—”

The Wuji Mystic Master, standing rigid beside the throne, faltered, then fell to his knees in the center of the hall. “Your Majesty, reconsider! To enact such slaughter upon your ascension; this violates the laws of the previous dynasties!”

“Previous dynasties?” Ye Qingge let out a derisive laugh, cold and sharp as winter frost. “From this day forward, my reign shall mark the beginning of the celestial realm.”

Frowning, the Wuji Mystic Master spoke gravely, “I implore Your Majesty to reconsider! The civil and military officials were not assembled in a single day. If you resort to such bloodshed now, how will we defend against future invaders?”

“Vacant positions shall be filled by those who prove themselves worthy.” Ye Qingge’s eyes swept indifferently over the kneeling officials. “Anyone who slaughters nine clans of demons and presents their heads as tribute may enter this hall and be appointed as an official.”

The Wuji Mystic Master lowered his head, voice trembling. “Your Majesty! I beg you to reconsider.”

“You have half a day.” Ye Qingge flicked her sleeve with a casual motion. “Proceed.”

With her decree issued, low-ranking military officers and civil officials, those previously barred from the hall—rushed to prepare for action, leading troops into the mortal realm and the demon world alike.

The once-celebratory hall sank into an oppressive silence. The deposed celestial officials, their immortal roots severed, remained kneeling on the ground, faces ashen, continuing to beg for mercy that would never come.

Ye Qingge, unmoved, flicked her sleeve once more and departed, leaving behind only a scene of despair, wailing, and lamentation.

Hours passed. At last, the sky brightened.

Ling Lan wiped the sweat from her brow and gazed up at the towering mountain before her. Black mist coiled around the peak, sinister and oppressive even under daylight, as if the mountain itself were alive, daring her to climb.

Yet Ling Lan let out a long sigh of relief and pressed onward.

The Wanxin Sword, resting at her side, flew forward to scout the path ahead.

Compared to other divine mountains, Snake Mountain was exceptionally steep.

From the foot of the mountain, one could only see the peak piercing through the clouds, with no signs of other living beings.

Ling Lan took a deep breath and steeled herself, plunging into the black mist ahead.

The air was thick with the smell of charred remains. Dead snakes and birds, roasted to a crisp, emitted the aroma of cooked meat.

But Ling Lan felt a wave of nausea rising within her. Countless black miasmas invaded her nostrils, making her dizzy and sick.

The air was poisonous.

Realizing this, Ling Lan immediately covered her nose and mouth, but her vision had already begun to blur, and she struggled to keep her balance.

Suddenly, a chilling, hollow laughter echoed through the pitch-black sky, so eerie and desolate that it sent shivers down one’s spine.

“This black mist is formed from the vengeful spirits and evil creatures that haunt this mountain. Are you here all alone just to throw your life away?”

“Who’s there?” Wan Yin’s sword was drawn as Ling Lan cautiously scanned her surroundings.

But everything before her was shrouded in black mist, making it impossible to pinpoint the source of the voice.

“Hahaha, you trespass into my mountain and still ask who I am?”

Ling Lan held her breath and spoke in a low voice, “Are you the master of Crow Python Sea? The black soaring bird?”

“Bah, you should go to Bird Mountain instead!”

The laughter ceased, replaced by rustling sounds from beside her.

Before Ling Lan could react, a fiery red serpent’s tail wrapped around her ankle.

Wan Yin’s sword had no time to strike before the tail abruptly tightened, dragging Ling Lan to the ground.

Countless miasmic vapors seeped through her skin, spreading to her limbs. Ling Lan’s vision blurred, and she was dragged upside down across the ground.

Wan Yin’s sword scraped against the earth, sparking.

The serpent’s tail did not stop, pulling her relentlessly up the mountain.

The new Empress was decisive and ruthless, and her fearsome reputation spread instantly.

Unlike the joyous celebrations of past goddesses’ ascensions, which restricted entry based on status, tonight’s ceremony granted seats to all who brought the heads of demonic creatures.

In a short time, over a hundred incompetent celestial officials were dismissed from the heavenly realm, and the descending fairies showcased their divine powers.

Demons that had wreaked havoc in the mortal realm for three years were all slain and brought back.

In stark contrast to the morning’s lamentations, Qingyang Palace was now filled with music and dance.

Ever since the first fairy who brought back the heads of the nine clans of demons was appointed as an official, a steady stream of people arrived at the palace with demon heads.

It was the first time in millennia that an Empress’s ascension ceremony featured demon heads as tribute gifts.

Seated high on the golden throne, the Empress propped her chin on her hand. The crimson mark between her brows was bewitchingly beautiful as she coldly observed the celestial soldiers paying their respects.

A burly warrior, now adorned with ten demon heads at his waist, had risen from a lowly celestial servant to a palace military official.

The newly appointed military official, panting heavily, bowed to Ye Qingge and said, “Your Majesty, this humble one, Mo Ye, has slain ten types of demons, including wolves, tigers, and leopards. I beg the Goddess to inspect them!”

Ye Qingge gave a faint nod. “Grant him a seat.”

As Mo Ye removed the cumbersome heads from his waist, a figure in green darted in and embraced him tightly.

“With the Empress above, protecting your safety, my anxious heart can finally rest,” the green-clad fairy said, holding a handkerchief, her eyes filled with tenderness. “Why did you push yourself so hard? If anything happened to you, what would I do?”

Still in his armor, Mo Ye held her and sighed, “With my beloved waiting for me, I naturally put my life first. Now, I can finally marry you.”

“Thanks to the Empress for giving us this chance,” the green-clad fairy sobbed, clutching him tightly.

More and more people returned to the palace to report their missions, but Ye Qingge had lost interest in listening.

Her gaze lingered on the figure in green, lost in thought for a long moment.

A faint pain throbbed in her little finger, hidden within her sleeve. Only then did Ye Qingge realize she had forgotten to reattach the bone.

A sharp, stabbing ache surged through her heart, and the image of a girl in a jade-green robe flashed before her; gently holding her little finger, chiding her with concern.

Snapping back to reality, Ye Qingge abruptly tossed her wine cup onto the table.

The boisterous celebration instantly fell silent.

The celebrating officials all looked up at the Empress on her throne.

“Who was in charge of clearing out Crow Python Palace today?” Ye Qingge’s cold eyes swept over the assembled ministers.

A guard trembled as he knelt in the grand hall. “Your Majesty, it was I.”

“That pot of grass,” Ye Qingge said calmly, “bring it back to me.”

The guard froze, lifting his head hesitantly, a troubled expression crossing his face.

Having issued her command, Ye Qingge did not linger. With a graceful sweep of her sleeves, she turned to leave, adding indifferently, “From this day forth, no one shall wear jade-green garments again.”

The stunned celestial officials snapped back to attention and knelt in unison. “As you command, Your Majesty.”

Among the kneeling crowd, a fairy in green robes shivered. She could not shake the sense that the decree had been prompted by the empress’s fleeting gaze resting upon her moments ago.

The kneeling immortals exchanged bewildered glances, yet none dared lift their heads, even after Ye Qingge had departed.

The musicians, who had been playing celebratory tunes, hesitated, unsure whether to continue.

Seated to the side, the Wuji Mystic Master furrowed his brow sharply at the mention of jade-green and exchanged a meaningful glance with the Water Control Mystic Master beside him.

The Matchmaker God hunched his shoulders guiltily, deliberately trying to make himself less noticeable.