Master Yuan knelt there, expressionless, his face ashen. He ground his teeth fiercely, yet offered no plea for mercy.

Zong Shou, however, only felt a throbbing headache. How, exactly, should he deal with this Martial Uncle—his own kin?

In his past life, Zong Master Yuan had not truly inflicted much lasting harm upon Zong Shou. As far as he knew, by that time, Master Yuan had already been manipulated by others, completely beyond his own control.

After all, nominally, Zong Master Yuan was Zong Shou's only living close relative. Killing him with one stroke would certainly be swift and satisfying. But Zong Weiran, who had retreated to the Sinking Sea, would eventually return. Who knew how his cheap father would view the matter then?

This era placed enormous weight on filial piety; one could not entirely disregard the opinions of others.

After a moment of internal struggle, the tight knot in Zong Shou’s brow finally smoothed out.

There was no need for prolonged worry, really. He merely needed to adhere strictly to the principle of 'impartiality' in his judgment. If he did that, no one, absolutely no one, could find fault. Even if Zong Weiran returned, he could not assign blame.

“That Sky Fox Xue Clan—I hear you personally led them here? Did you not know the reasons why Father King so vehemently rejected the Xue Clan? Have you forgotten the folly of inviting a wolf into the house?”

Master Yuan’s expression twisted for a moment, and he instinctively moved to argue. But after a brief pause, he settled down again, a thin line of blood seeping from the corner of his lips.

Zong Shou raised an eyebrow. Seeing this reaction, it seemed there was some hidden context? Could he have fallen prey to the Xue Clan’s Illusory Mist Bewitching Heart technique?

Still, he paid it little mind, nor did he feel any pity. If Zong Weiran lacked the underlying intention himself, even the Xue Clan Royal Family’s Illusory Mist technique could never have fostered such ambition within him.

After a brief deliberation, Zong Shou reached his verdict: “Colluding with foreign enemies and plotting treasonously for the throne is an ultimate wickedness. Since you are my paternal uncle, I shall spare you the death penalty. Today, I strip you of your position as the Right Court Pillar General—”

He swept his sword down again, aiming for the head. Zong Master Yuan instinctively tried to dodge, but the moment his body shifted, he halted again, a look of desolate sorrow washing over his face. He felt a more potent, sharp intent lock onto him, crushing down. It was as if any movement aimed against Zong Shou would immediately trigger a lethal strike!

This junior, Zong Yuan—no, Zong Shou—had actually grown to a state so terrifying and awe-inspiring.

At this moment, Master Yuan was utterly broken. Even if Zong Shou struck him down then and there, he would have no complaints.

The sword light slicing toward his head suddenly changed trajectory, veering sharply sideways.

A spray of crimson erupted, and Master Yuan’s left arm was cleanly severed from the shoulder by that single strike! In less than half a breath, excruciating pain flooded his consciousness. Cold sweat drenched him, yet he managed to brace his body, keeping his spine ramrod straight.

Zong Shou’s final words then followed: “—You are hereby stripped of all noble status and sentenced to amputation! Are you convinced?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Zong Shou’s eyes. That single sword stroke had indeed contained an element of testing.

However, Zong Master Yuan’s reaction was unexpected. This man seemed genuinely prepared to accept death. He had originally intended to abolish his cultivation base, but had temporarily switched to reducing him to commoner status. This Zong Master Yuan was different from that Zong Hao.

A sense of relief washed over him; more than half of today’s difficult business was finally concluded. The only matter remaining was Zong Shi.

At that very instant, everyone surrounding them suddenly dropped to their knees. First were Hu Qianqiu and Qiu Wei, followed by Hu Zhongyuan and Zong Lan, and then everyone nearby bowed their heads to Zong Shou. Tens of thousands of armored soldiers prostrated themselves on the ground.

“We respectfully welcome the Crown Prince back to the city, to inherit the eternal legacy of the late sovereign—”

Had this occurred before entering the city, Zong Shou would surely have been flushed with excitement and soaring ambition by such a spectacle.

Now, however, he merely chuckled lightly, his emotions muted. His heart was filled with self-mockery. A man like himself was utterly incapable of being a proper Demon King.

Just as he was about to raise his hand to signal everyone to rise, he suddenly felt a sharp explosion within his Soul Sea.

He couldn't tell if it was an alarm or what, but the vortex in his Soul Sea and his Dantian suddenly began to boil. It seemed to express joy and excitement, yet simultaneously contained wariness and rejection.

In short, he felt faint, ethereal wisps of energy suddenly converging into his body.

Zong Shou’s expression, however, became utterly bizarre.

“Is this… is this what they call the Imperial Dao Qi?”

The so-called Imperial Dao Qi was essentially the convergence of the people’s will and the nation's momentum. Once it reached a certain threshold, it would coalesce into substance, bestowing kingly aura upon the owner—a thing with many benefits. With the protection of this kingly aura, anyone attempting assassination would have to pay an enormous price.

Moreover, if wielded skillfully, one could leverage the power of an entire nation to slay even high-level martial cultivators and Spirit Masters, even if the wielder was not skilled in martial arts.

But there were drawbacks, of course. It was constrained by Heaven and Earth, leading to a shortened lifespan. Furthermore, it obstructed both martial and spiritual arts cultivation. Thus, there existed what was called the Royal Martial Way—one that did not cultivate the soul or spirit but focused exclusively on martial intent and momentum. If the nation was strong, the people peaceful, and the military might supreme, one could still contend with the world's strongest experts.

Take the Lu Family, who controlled eight hundred minor worlds; their Clan Head could even fight on equal footing with experts of the Saint Realm.

However, as far as Zong Shou knew, to condense Imperial Dao Qi, one needed to govern at least a hundred million people, possess genuine dynastic foundations, and truly command the hearts of the populace.

Qiantian Mountain City, though spanning five provinces, consisted mostly of vassal cities. It directly governed only ten cities, with a population just over eighty million. Furthermore, it had only been established for ten years, meaning most people likely hadn't truly pledged allegiance yet. And as the Crown Prince, his current status was still one of 'a young lord in an unstable realm.'

How could such meager assets generate this damned ‘Royal Dao Qi’?

This thing was coveted by others, but to him, it was simply the most potent poison.

Heaven and Earth had their own regulations. While Imperial Dao Qi was undeniably mighty, it naturally imposed many restrictions on its possessor. What Zong Shou truly cared about was the apex of martial arts. He had no interest in achieving anything substantial in the Royal Martial Way.

His original plan was to seize the Demon King title, then seek out a secret method or treasure from his memories to resolve this affliction. Or, if time ran short, he would simply choose a talented individual from the Zong Clan and abdicate. He never expected this thing to arrive so swiftly.

Yet, once these energies gathered, they refused to dissipate. They clung stubbornly, forcing their way into his body. No matter how much his internal True Qi and soul power tried to expel them, they remained. In the end, they were beginning to fuse with his physical form.

As he inwardly suffered, breaking out in a cold sweat, Zong Shou’s thoughts suddenly flashed toward the Void Spirit Sword floating in the center of the vortex within his Soul Sea.

“I forgot! I still have my Second Primordial Spirit!”

The Second Primordial Spirit was a manifestation of his soul thought, a part of the immortal body and spirit. Absorbing this Royal Dao Qi using it was highly probable to succeed.

But the moment this thought arose, he felt a sharp pang of loss. This Void Spirit Sword was something he had painstakingly nurtured to this level, consuming countless hours of effort, constantly tempering it with soul power and imbuing it with runes daily.

Still, sacrificing this Void Spirit Sword at this juncture was far more worthwhile than allowing his physical body and soul to be tainted by the Royal Dao Qi.

Without hesitation, following Zong Shou’s intent, the ‘Yuan Yi Sword’ immediately zipped throughout his body, absorbing those faint, ethereal energies.

In mere moments, the body of the ‘Yuan Yi Sword’ appeared incredibly solid, gradually shifting to a bright yellow hue. He could even clearly sense the vast, overwhelming power contained within the blade.

Zong Shou, however, was not pleased but worried. This sudden turn of events had completely derailed all his future planning. He wondered what he should do in the future with this Second Primordial Spirit, which should perhaps be renamed the ‘Imperial Dao Yuan Yi Sword.’ Relying on this mere Void Spirit Sword for defense was certainly not a long-term strategy.

Fortunately, only a negligible trace of the gathered brilliant yellow energy had formed. After absorbing it all, Zong Shou frowned, gazing thoughtfully at Zong Yuan. This variable was the only thing he could currently think of. If the Strait Battle was truly about seizing national momentum, and the deployment of the great army was merely to deter the Cloud Scar Flaming Fire City so they wouldn't become a threat in the short term—

Then how could the mere addition of an Unrivaled General cause their national prestige to swell so greatly, capturing so many hearts? To generate a wisp of Imperial Dao Qi before even being crowned! It was truly baffling.

Then, in the next instant, Zong Shou seemed to understand, and his face cycled through shades of pale and blue.

Could it be because of him?

National momentum involved prestige, talent, livelihood, military strength, and every facet imaginable. Adding one Zong Yuan could certainly strengthen Qiantian Mountain City’s military might. But what about him? In terms of battlefield tactics, he considered himself superior to Zong Yuan. Zong Yuan, though an Unrivaled General, was still clearly immature compared to the command skills Zong Shou had honed through hundreds of battles in his previous life.

At this moment, he desperately wanted to slap himself publicly.

He had accounted for everything, yet he had neglected his own influence.

Immediately, he slumped, all previous high spirits gone. This Demon King position was clearly a massive pitfall. Damn it, this was too much to handle. Fortunately, having the Yuan Yi Sword could act as a stand-in for his main body, preserving a few slim chances of recovery.

Those nearby were completely oblivious. Seeing that Zong Shou showed no joy but instead looked despondent, they assumed he was grieving the day's events.

They couldn't help but be moved. While Zong Shou’s decisiveness and ruthlessness in killing were certainly fearsome, seeing this expression, which seemed like heartache and pity, clearly showed he was not a bloodthirsty individual—which made them feel more at ease.

Even the arm-severed Master Yuan’s eyes wavered, showing a trace of regret.

Hu Qianqiu, considering himself a simple man with less complex feelings, grew impatient and looked up. “A nation cannot be without a ruler for a single day! We implore the Crown Prince to proceed to the Chongzheng Palace to ascend the throne and succeed as the Demon King!”

Zong Shou was abruptly startled back to awareness. He glanced toward the peak of Qiantian Mountain, then let out a wry laugh. The matter was settled; no amount of internal struggle would change it. At most, he would find a way around it later. For now, it was best to complete all the necessary official procedures.

He felt that by completing this final step, he had finally settled one of Zong Shou’s lingering regrets. With this inner obstruction removed, even if his cultivation couldn't advance slightly, he could at least shed a heavy burden from his future practice. (To be continued)