"Me? Me?" The guard took a step back, staring in disbelief at the crimson glow emanating from his body.
It was a red both bewitching and domineering.
The vivid contrast between the red light and his green pants was impossible to miss.
Even in broad daylight, the glow burned so intensely that it seemed to irrefutably mark him as the werewolf.
"I’m not! I swear I’m not! Your Highness, I came with you today—I’m just an ordinary guard!" The guard immediately dropped to his knees, kowtowing frantically before the princess and Kaiaolen.
His voice trembled, on the verge of tears.
"I have a wife… a child… they’re waiting for me at home. I’m not a monster!"
"I… I did come here with this guard, so I recognize him," the princess murmured, hesitating as she watched him prostrate himself before her.
If he really were a monster, why wouldn’t he have attacked her when they were alone earlier?
"Hmm…" Kaiaolen studied the kowtowing guard for a few seconds before shifting his gaze to Ye Chuan. "Sir Xi, the red glow is practically confirmation, isn’t it?"
"Hard to say," Ye Chuan shrugged. "But I trust my magic."
This spell came from Lilith—was there anything unreliable about that woman?
Kaiaolen strode toward the kneeling guard, his expression cold as he reached out and seized the man’s throat.
"Ugh…" The guard choked as Kaiaolen’s grip tightened, his face turning deathly pale.
"My wife… my child…"
"I…"
To anyone watching, he seemed nothing like a monster—just an ordinary man, terrified and helpless.
"Wait." A voice cut through the tension.
It was Ye Chuan. "Hold on a second."
Kaiaolen released his grip, and the guard collapsed to the ground, coughing violently. The others watched with pity, some even casting doubtful glances at Ye Chuan.
If this was a monster, it was the most convincing one they’d ever seen.
"I… I’m not a monster," the guard gasped.
"I believe you," Ye Chuan said, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder.
The guard froze—along with everyone else nearby.
Wait, weren’t you the one who just accused him?
"Let me check something," Ye Chuan said, his chaotic energy spreading from his palm, coiling around the guard’s body.
At first, nothing happened. Then, the guard’s face began to darken, his eyes rolling back, his mouth stretching open—far wider than any human’s should.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" A shrill, infant-like shriek tore from his throat.
With a sickening rip, his skin split apart, revealing a towering purple monstrosity—a wolf-like abomination covered in writhing, worm-like tendrils, its head studded with dozens of eyes.
"It really is a monster!"
"It’s true!"
The surrounding guards immediately drew their weapons, charging forward.
The creature let out another ear-piercing screech, its voice still eerily human. "Damn it, what kind of magic is this?!"
It lunged straight for Ye Chuan, recognizing him as the greatest threat—his detection magic was their worst nightmare.
"You’re dying here today!"
Claws slashed toward Ye Chuan’s face, but he didn’t flinch. He merely smirked. "I reckon you can’t even scratch me."
The claws struck his shoulder—and left not a single mark.
"Roar?!" The monster stiffened in shock before bolting toward the manor gates.
It had to escape. It had to warn the others.
"Hmph. Trying to run?" Ye Chuan snorted, raising a hand. "Little dragon, go."
Kaiaolen blinked, realizing the command was for him. Suppressing the urge to impale Ye Chuan with a Dragonfang Strike, he shot forward like a shadow.
In the next instant, Kaiaolen was behind the monster. His hand morphed into a draconic claw, slicing through the air—and the creature’s body—with a single, brutal motion.
"Your detection spell is effective," Kaiaolen said as he returned.
"But… there are too many people to check."
While thrilled that Ye Chuan had found a way to expose the monsters, inspecting every citizen was impossible. The empire was vast, and if some hid among the commonfolk, they’d never be found.
"Just teach other mages," Ye Chuan suggested. "It’s not that complicated."
"You’d share this magic?" Kaiaolen asked, surprised.
Spells were closely guarded secrets—most mages would never teach them unless they took an apprentice.
"I don’t care."
"Sir Xi, you’re truly selfless," Kaiaolen admitted. Princess Irena and Torres looked at Ye Chuan with newfound respect.
"For a price," he added.
Kaiaolen’s expression froze.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ye Chuan scoffed. "Last night, you asked me to find a way to identify these things. I worked all night, scoured 108,000 ancient texts, and barely managed to uncover this spell. Did you think I’d hand it over for free?"
"That’s fair," Irena conceded, nodding. After such effort, compensation was reasonable.
"Can someone read 108,000 books in one night?" Torres scratched his head.
"…" Kaiaolen knew better than to argue. With the empire in crisis, he cut to the chase.
"The empire is in peril. As one of us—"
"I’m from China," Ye Chuan interrupted.
Kaiaolen paused for half a second before sighing. "How much?"
"Now we’re talking. Not that I’m some greedy miser—hey, what’s with those looks?" Ye Chuan grinned.
"I’ll provide it for free first. Once the empire’s safe, you’ll owe me one favor."
"Sir Xi, what kind of favor?" Irena asked.
"Haven’t decided yet," he said, smirking.
"Could be anything. A bit of gold. Or maybe the princess’s hand in marriage. Who knows?"
Irena lowered her head, the tips of her ears turning red.
Kaiaolen knew this wasn’t the time to haggle. If it meant saving the empire, one favor was a small price.
"Deal. Summon every mage in the city—now!"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
