Mayor Li is also a genius

Outside the Celestial City, the sky was dyed crimson and ink-black, with neither sun nor moon in sight. Jagged rocks jutted out grotesquely under an eternal night that even a thousand years of rain could not wash away. From time to time, inhuman shrieks and whispers echoed through the darkness, sending chills down one's spine.

A colossal, primordial Great Wall stood as the boundary between the mortal realm and hell.

Across the three cities—Heaven, Earth, and Man—it was common knowledge that the world beyond was a forbidden zone for humanity. The Celestial City existed as a bridge between two worlds.

Of course, skeptics existed. Some wondered: If their ancestors never intended for them to leave, why were gates even built into the city walls?

Those who dared to defy the warnings and step outside inevitably vanished without a trace, becoming bloody lessons for others.

Some sages claimed that the Celestial City once had more than just three divisions—outer cities had fallen long ago, gradually forgotten in the river of time.

But now, even this boundary was on the verge of collapse.

BOOM—

A towering, monstrous figure relentlessly battered the city walls, their once-indomitable barriers—imbued with the power of heaven and earth—now trembling under the assault.

Hot blood splattered across the fortifications, the natural runes etched into the stone losing their spiritual glow.

Beneath the blackened sun, the stench of carnage thickened. Every second, warriors from the Earth City and demonic beasts from the outer wastes perished in droves.

On the battlements, two Celestials watched the hellish scene unfold, their faces grim and sweat dripping down their brows.

"If this continues, the Earth City’s defenders will be exhausted. Are we to send the mortal laborers from the Man City to fill the gaps?"

The taller of the two, a silver-haired Celestial of striking majesty, slammed his fist on the table.

"Our post isn’t even the most heavily besieged!"

The Man City’s walls had three gates, and this one was the most remote—historically the least burdened, with the lightest defensive pressure.

The demonic beasts were simple-minded creatures, drawn only to where the largest crowds gathered.

"This time… it’s different."

The other Celestial, his bronze-skinned torso etched with divine markings, muttered under his breath:

"I’ve realized what’s wrong. This time, the beasts aren’t acting mindlessly—they’re organized. They move with purpose, feigning chaos while coordinating their attacks! They know the southern gate is undermanned, so they strike there!"

"Someone is directing them."

Eliminating all impossible explanations, the remaining possibility—no matter how improbable—had to be the truth.

The taller Celestial still struggled to believe it.

Those beasts, whose intelligence barely surpassed wild animals, who often tore each other apart—how could they unite like an army, obeying orders like disciplined soldiers?

"Preposterous! How could—"

Before he could finish—

WHOOSH—

A foul wind howled as a serpentine head, covered in thorny spikes, rose above the walls.

How massive was it?

When its eyes opened, twin crimson suns seemed to rise on the horizon. And atop that monstrous head stood a figure—tall as an iron tower, his gaze icy as he looked down upon the battlements below.

Yes, the towering fortress was dwarfed by the beast.

The silver-haired Celestial’s throat went dry.

"Damn it. We’re in trouble."

The outermost wall of the Man City fell in a single day.

By the time the other Celestials sensed the deaths of their southern gate defenders, it was already too late.

---

The city had been breached, and the demonic tide surged through like floodwaters. A thousand-mile dike could crumble from a single ant’s nest—let alone an entire gate collapsing.

The mood in the imperial capital sank to its lowest. Faces were grim, expressions varied.

"Last time during the Celestial Trials, the first calamity was a mere formality. What’s different this time?"

"The Demon Summoning Sect infiltrated the trials. And that… unnatural presence. How could it be the same?"

"Exactly! Those beasts—they’re clearly being manipulated by the Beast Hall’s forbidden arts!"

"No wonder they’re stronger and moving in packs."

"The Celestials have retreated entirely, falling back to the Earth City’s defenses!"

"What’s Emperor Jiang’s plan? Is he abandoning the Man City?!"

---

In the Heavenly City, Emperor Jiang sat upon his dragon throne, the Celestial Sword embedded in the vermilion beam above him.

"The Man City’s walls have been breached. We have no choice but to cut our losses and fortify the new walls extending from the Earth City."

"And what of the villages and towns beyond the Earth City’s jurisdiction?"

Feng Zhi’s face was ashen, her aura noticeably weaker than before. She frowned as she spoke.

"I’ve repeatedly ordered them to submit to the Great Yu. There’s nothing more we can do."

Emperor Jiang’s voice was devoid of emotion, cold and detached.

"I’m still not fully attuned to the Celestial Sword. How can we possibly protect such a vast territory? Losing more personnel would be an unacceptable waste. We must conserve our strength for the decisive strike."

Feng Zhi fell silent.

The other Celestials exchanged glances, finding Emperor Jiang’s reasoning sound.

An elder among them, weathered by centuries, sighed.

"Then the outlanders must endure hardship for the greater good."

---

The imperial capital buzzed with outrage.

Under the royal canopy, an awkward silence lingered.

The Fourth Prince’s face burned as if slapped.

He had just been extolling the Crown Prince’s benevolence, insisting his elder brother would navigate this calamity with compassion.

Now, he could only weakly amend:

"Well… sacrificing the few for the many is sometimes necessary for great achievements."

"Afraid to die, yet full of excuses."

A voice scoffed nearby.

The Fourth Prince: "?"

A woman in green robes stood there, arms crossed. "The Celestials could’ve evacuated the outlanders before the beasts overran the Man City—without even risking their forces. Yet they chose to watch."

"Too cautious to achieve greatness. The Crown Prince is unreliable."

Zhong Qin’s voice was calm, cutting through the tension.

Princess Yuyang, unable to refute, snapped:

"If not my brother, then who? Ying Bing?"

"Not just her. How could you separate Li Mo from her side?"

Shang Qingqing glared at the princess, unimpressed.

"With all due respect, Hero Li—ah, no, Old Man Li now—is half in the grave. What can he possibly do?"

Tu Yan sighed, shaking her head as if pained by the thought.

The invited members of the Hundred Flowers Sect wore similarly conflicted expressions.

A few days in the outside world had been decades within the Scroll of Rivers and Mountains.

They had watched the once-dashing young hero wither into a white-haired village elder, spending his days either forging tools or toiling in the fields.

Not a trace of his former brilliance remained—Li Mo had become utterly ordinary.

And so, the last vestiges of their admiration for the prodigy crumbled.

"Your insight is as lacking as your looks compared to Little Bing’er."

Shang Qingqing clicked her tongue, grabbing a handful of melon seeds before sauntering off.

Princess Yuyang flushed with humiliation, but Zhong Qin cut in:

"Enough."

"Prince of the Southern Garrison, you’re a prince of Great Yu! How can you side with outsiders?!"

"Li Mo calls me ‘sworn brother.’ And he’s my patron."

"????"

The crowd erupted in disbelief.

Yet Huang Donglai, Xiao Qin, Xie Xuan, and the others didn’t bother arguing.

They simply clenched their fists, silently placing their faith in him.