Chapter Forty-Seven: The Ancestor Arrives

On the western side of the Yulan Continent’s Magical Beast Mountain Range lay two great alliances: the Holy Alliance, ruled by the Radiant Church, and the Dark Alliance, governed by the Church of Darkness. Among the kingdoms of the Holy Alliance, the foremost was the Kingdom of Fenlai.

Fenlai City served not only as the capital of the Kingdom of Fenlai, but also as the sacred city of the Holy Alliance, for the headquarters of the Radiant Church stood in its western quarter.

The city itself was divided into two major sections: the eastern city, administered by the royal government of Fenlai, and the western city, overseen by the Radiant Church. Because Fenlai was both a royal and a sacred capital, its prosperity was unrivaled throughout the Yulan Continent.

Vast in area, Fenlai City housed over a million residents, ranking among the continent’s top five supercities.

In the depths of night, around three or four in the morning, Qiankun withdrew his aura and quietly slipped into Fenlai City.

Even at such hours, the city was ablaze with lights. The most bustling of all was the fragrant avenue, alive with noise and activity.

Within the royal palace, in a luxuriously appointed chamber, the King of Fenlai, known as the Golden Lion, Clyde, together with his beloved queen, had only recently sunk into slumber after a night of revelry, when a sudden, urgent gust of wind startled them awake.

“Who’s there?” Clyde sprang upright, hastily pulling a robe over his shoulders and leaping from the bed. His gaze, sharp as lightning, fixed upon the open doorway. Towering nearly two meters, Clyde was a ninth-level warrior, his physique robust, arms and chest bulging with powerful muscles.

A soft chuckle announced the arrival of a shadowy figure, floating a foot above the ground as he entered the chamber—it was Qiankun.

“A Saint-level expert?” Clyde stared in astonishment, anxiety and nervousness clearly written on his face. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Boy, you don’t even recognize your own ancestor? You deserve a beating!” Qiankun scolded with mock severity.

Ancestor? Clyde’s expression twitched with irritation, but after a moment’s contemplation, he could not help but look at Qiankun with excitement and anticipation. “Sir, are you truly an ancestor of the Fenlai royal family?”

“Hmm, at least you have some sense,” Qiankun nodded casually. “My name is Qiankun. You’ve likely never heard of me. I left over a thousand years ago. Back then, I was just an ordinary scion of the royal house, my power was still weak when I departed.”

Upon hearing Qiankun’s confirmation, Clyde was overjoyed. A Saint-level expert! Such a figure could ensure the Fenlai royal family’s enduring strength. As for Qiankun’s claim to kinship, Clyde did not doubt it. What motivation could a Saint-level expert possibly have to impersonate a royal ancestor? Clyde never imagined someone might be so eccentric.

Even if Clyde knew Qiankun was not of royal blood, he would have feigned ignorance. With a Saint-level expert as patron, the royal house would have a formidable backing—even the Radiant Church would not dare act against them arbitrarily.

The royal family of Fenlai, though outwardly illustrious, was in truth utterly controlled by the Radiant Church. Clyde himself could be replaced at a whim. The kingdoms and noble houses within the Holy Alliance were but tools for the Church’s rule. Yet if a royal house possessed a Saint-level expert, even the Church would seek to win their favor.

“Clyde pays his respects to the ancestor!” Without hesitation, Clyde knelt before Qiankun in reverence.

Qiankun was not surprised by Clyde’s display, secretly amused, though outwardly he smiled in satisfaction. “Enough, boy, rise!”

“If I’m not mistaken, the only reason you became a ninth-level warrior is due to the Radiant Church’s ‘Divine Blessing,’ isn’t it? What a pity! I thought the Fenlai royal family had produced a true talent. Had you reached ninth-level by your own cultivation, with my guidance you might have entered the Saint-level. Alas! Though the Divine Blessing elevated you, it also deprived you of further advancement,” Qiankun shook his head in regret.

This was indeed Clyde’s own regret, but after rising, he replied respectfully, “Ancestor, with you by our side, the Fenlai royal family will remain strong. Whether I become a Saint-level expert is unimportant; your strength is what matters most!”

“Haha, you sly dog, stop flattering me!” Qiankun laughed, then added, “I’ve only just returned and have nowhere to stay!”

Clyde hurriedly said, “Ancestor, why not reside in the palace? I’ll prepare the finest quarters for you.”

“The palace? I’m not suited to such luxury. Find me a quiet place in the city instead,” Qiankun frowned and waved his hand.

Clyde’s eyes darted, then he nodded, “Yes, ancestor. Perhaps you’d prefer Greenleaf Lane? It’s tranquil, and I have a manor there—quite suitable!”

“Oh? Very well, let it be there,” Qiankun agreed, raising an eyebrow. He mused inwardly: wasn’t that the place Clyde later gifted to Linley?

With Qiankun’s consent, Clyde eagerly made arrangements, personally leading his most trusted attendants and guards to escort Qiankun to Greenleaf Lane.

Clyde’s manor on Greenleaf Lane was vast, far larger than the ancestral house of Linley’s family. In Fenlai City, where land was precious, owning such a mansion was not merely a matter of wealth. Its layout and decorations were first-class. The Springwater Garden, in particular, featured a hot spring pool, artificial hills, grassy lawns, and exercise equipment. After training, a soak in the hot spring was a delight worthy of immortals.

“Not bad, not bad!” Qiankun remarked with satisfaction after touring the estate and enjoying the hot spring, accompanied by Clyde.

Clyde, relieved, smiled and said, “Ancestor, I’ll arrange for more attendants. If you need anything, just tell them.”

“Don’t send too many. I dislike noise, especially those effeminate court attendants,” Qiankun replied, eyes half-closed in the spring. “If you must send maids, choose those who are pleasing to the eye—not all little girls, understand?”

Clyde paused, his gaze flickering, then nodded repeatedly.

“Off you go now. I’ll be cultivating here quietly. Unless it’s urgent, don’t disturb me,” Qiankun waved dismissively.

Clyde respectfully obeyed, departing from the Springwater Garden like a dutiful grandson.

Once he had left, Qiankun opened his eyes and smiled to himself, whispering, “Ah, this idea of mine is quite brilliant. With a few words, someone eagerly comes to serve me as a grandson, offering me the veneration of an ancestor—how delightful!”

“The Radiant Church will soon hear of this, I’m sure. They’ll be surprised by my identity, but no matter how they investigate, they won’t uncover anything. Before long, their Saint-level experts will come to test me. Waiting for them will be like catching fish in a barrel. Then, I must find a way to acquire their collection of books recording magical incantations,” Qiankun mused, swirling his hand in the spring.

At noon, Qiankun, dressed in a loose black robe, enjoyed a sumptuous lunch in the parlor, meeting the maids Clyde had chosen for him. Yet upon seeing them, Qiankun could not help but gape and grumble inwardly.

Clyde’s ‘comprehension’ was truly remarkable! He had been told to select pleasing maids, not little girls, but what had he done? Mature women, young wives, and even a stately lady of middle age—these were not maids, but a gathering of noblewomen!