All Heavenly destiny reduced to ashes
Chapter 378 - 26: Dragon Martial General Mo Que

Chapter 378: Chapter 26: Dragon Martial General Mo Que

"Your strength is even greater than we had estimated,"

Mo Li was dead, but the blue flame in his dim eyes still flickered. The Divine Sense of the Dragon Martial Great General transmitted from it, "The Military Department estimated your strength to be a ’nine-three,’ meaning the endowment of Inner Strength of nine ranks. Even if you had no Divine Abnormalities, your combat power would be equivalent to three Divine Abnormalities."

"Now, it appears your strength has already surpassed the display of an ordinary five Divine Abnormalities of Inner Strength. I do not know how many Divine Abnormalities you possess, but it’s probably a ’nine-four,’ or even the highest ’nine-five.’ It seems your Divine Mandate is of a high order, not inferior to Emperor’s Blood, and you have mastered it to a great depth,"

An Jing raised his eyebrows. He knew that the Martial Arts Academy had a complicated system of rank classification, but he had never thought the Dragon Martial General would speak so calmly, as if the person who died was not his grandson: "You’re quite calm. Are you really not angry?"

"Perhaps a little, but I have killed too many Demon Beasts and people in the Northern Sea, so I have long lost any such feelings,"

The Dragon Martial General was truly calm and said faintly, "I won’t say something like ’Do you want to be an enemy of Da Chen?’ that kind of mundane talk, because indeed, this has nothing to do with Da Chen. This incident was a private action by the Linlang Commerce Chamber, and I hope you won’t hold any bias against Da Chen."

An Jing almost laughed out of anger, his grip on Mo Li’s head growing stronger, causing flesh and blood to tear and bones to burst: "And you expect me not to be prejudiced after all the evil you’ve committed without repentance?

His aura was murderous, "These are the very officials and bandits I kill!"

"Mo Li was not an official, just an ordinary citizen. In the end, this was merely a private feud," the Dragon Martial General corrected the mistake in An Jing’s description, "But then again, I find you more pleasing than my descendants who can’t even kill a person."

"I like your decisiveness. War is just like that, one must plunder like fire and move swiftly like the wind. From your preparation to your action, every step was exceedingly concise yet remarkably effective. Were it not for the fact that you’re only twelve, I would even suspect you to be an experienced old general,"

"This is my attitude towards you, and also what I want to say to you. You wanted to see me angry, and I can understand your mindset, but such a trivial matter really doesn’t stir up my anger,"

The voice of the Dragon Martial General gradually weakened, and An Jing sneered, "Stop pretending. Perhaps you really aren’t angry and do not care about the death of such a grandson, but since you sent him here, you definitely expected him to do something... The very fact that you’re here talking so much with me is enough to prove that you are disturbed."

"You’re trying to mislead me into thinking that killing your grandson puts an end to everything, right? Wait, this is not over. No matter what you plan to do in Linjiang City, I’ll oppose it to the end!"

"You’re indeed perceptive,"

Mo Que said, somewhat surprised. He never shunned deceit and manipulation, hence he sighed, "In that case, I have nothing more to say."

"Then get lost."

An Jing crushed Mo Li’s head, utterly extinguishing the blue flame within.

But this head still teemed with vigor, its purple-blue blood mixed with brain matter still writhing in the snow. An Jing’s eyes swept over, the Pupil Fire within ignited with Blood Fiend and Essence Qi, eradicating all the overly active True Spirit Blood.

The same went for the body. An Jing used the Blood Fiend Vitality Flame to incinerate and refine it to prevent it from becoming some kind of Demon Monster.

In the distance, the Baiyuan Domain.

The Great Wall of the Northern Sea.

In the coastal area north of the Baiyuan Domain, there were no shores nor beaches. In the cold and sullen Ink Sea where icebergs occasionally drifted and collided, countless Demon Spirits and Exotic Beasts lurked. Be it the giant fish hundreds of zhang tall or the Sea Moon Sneak with tentacles stretching for dozens of miles, their emergence would overturn the Heavenly Sea, raising tumultuous waves.

In the ancient era, the entire Baiyuan Domain was a deteriorating expanse of saline-alkali soil. The sea spirits of the vast ocean could stir up waves so high that it caused torrential rains, lasting hundreds of days or even consecutive years, along the coast. And if they engaged in warfare near the coast, they could indeed trigger colossal waves by the billions, making countless creatures succumb to the will of life and death, helpless to their own fate.

In ancient times, there was a god named Yu Father. Descending from the lofty Taiwei, he assumed human form, moving mountains to construct walls. Every intelligent being on land followed in his steps, building walls to resist the tides of the Heavenly Sea.

As time ambled by, Yu Father ascended to the heavens, creating a moat in the Heavenly River. And on the North Mysterious Sacrifice Continent, in the lands of Baiyuan, emerged a continuous range of mountainous great walls, acting as a shield for all terrestrial beings against the relentless invasions of sea demon spirits.

Atop a peak that resembled a beacon tower among the continuous coastal mountains, a man with hair and beard sharp like needles, tall and formidable, lifted his head and opened his half-closed eyes.

His build was robust, his face weather-beaten. His shoulders and arms were sturdy as walls, and his hands, though rough and mottled like rusted iron statues, were as firm as eternal rocks—decaying, yet enduring, embodying a resilience that transcended the beatings of the tides and the flow of time.

The Dragon Martial General Mo Que fell silent for a moment before shaking his head slightly, "It seems, it truly is the Jiuli Commanding General."

To say that he did not care at all about his grandson would be incorrect. There was no doubt that Mo Li’s opportunity to accompany the Linlang Commerce Chamber to the Northern Border also involved his arrangements.

As long as he could get through this calamity and seize the merit, Mo Li could also secure a position of Colonel in the army, and his Fate Pattern would overcome its trial, breaking and then standing anew.

Unfortunately, he did not make it.

But Mo Que indeed had far too many descendants. He gave Mo Li a chance, and the lad just had bad luck meeting with a Divine Mandate and dying; it was simply his fate, akin to an unfortunate casualty of war from the residual effects of a battle, to be seen as being struck by a natural disaster.

He would not be angry. Mo Que’s focus was elsewhere as he silently pondered, imagining a possibility.

"The Divine Mandate of the Jiuli Commanding General... If this person really joins the Dust Li Five Sects and then leads their tribes to invade Da Chen..."

The moment he thought of this, his heart could not help but grow warm, as if a forge had been reignited. A rush passed by, like coal burning with choking smoke, carrying an overpowering stench of blood.

But it was only a moment. Mo Que lifted his head.

He looked beyond the great wall, out towards the sea where there was not a ripple to be seen in thousands of miles, and he saw the sea creatures keeping a respectful distance from the land. Wherever the scope of the Northern Sea’s mountainous walls could be seen, not a single demon spirit dared to linger.

That was reverence... as well as submission. The submission of the sea demon spirits to their Dragon King on land.

Feeling this reverence and submission, the man’s heart, which had flared up for a moment, grew cold again. The fiery warmth was suppressed by the icy blue Liuguang, leaving it indifferent and disinterested.

Life in the north was always this dull.

He closed his eyes once more, and the General once again found himself recollecting in his dreams the events of two hundred years ago—the bloodshed so intense it turned the Ink Sea crimson, and the cries of dragons that echoed through the Nine Heavens during the slaughter.

Only in his dreams could he relive those battles that made him shudder and his blood boil, those thrilling campaigns that excited him to a trembling fervor.

[An Jing... although you weren’t part of the plan, you too may