The Mountain-and-Seas Map shimmered faintly in the Imperial Hall. Two hundred regions pulsed beneath Feng Hao's gaze. Divine Generals patrolled, Divine Commanders drilled tirelessly, Spirit Veins hummed. Every piece of this vast empire grew under his law… yet it felt alive, not mechanical.
The Elders had gathered, standing in a semicircle, each one radiating a presence older than countless dynasties. They weren't just advisors—they were his teachers. And they knew it.
"Little brat," said one Ancient Elder, folding his hands behind his back, eyes sparkling with amusement. "You think you've done well? You've expanded the dynasty faster than anyone alive. But what of your legacy? You're going to die one day, and all this… all this will vanish with you if you don't leave an heir."
Feng Hao looked at him calmly. "I don't need an heir. The dynasty is law. The law doesn't die."
The Ancient Elder chuckled, low and knowing. "Bah, that's the kind of arrogance we expect from juniors. You'll learn… eventually. Or you'll listen, or you'll pay for it."
Another Elder, a Supreme Elder whose cultivation rivaled the peaks of heaven itself, tilted his head, voice teasing but sharp. "You hear that? Even the stones outside this hall would laugh at your stubbornness."
Feng Hao smiled faintly. "Then let them laugh. I'm not here to please the stones."
A third Elder, High-Level, raised an eyebrow. "Three years. That's all the time you'll spend in seclusion before we drag you out kicking and screaming to see how much stronger you've gotten."
Feng Hao inclined his head slightly. "Three years… sounds fair. But know this: while I'm gone, the Nine God Dao will continue to flow through every region, every sub-dynasty. You all will see it grow, and you'll be the first to know it's alive."
The Elders exchanged glances. A ripple of smiles passed among them. They knew he was right, and yet, they weren't about to let a junior sovereign—no matter how terrifying—ignore the simplest rules of dynasty survival.
"Junior, don't get cocky," said the Ancient Elder, voice soft but firm. "You can vanish into your little island all you want, but remember—we've taught you more than anyone else ever could. And if you forget… we'll remind you. Painfully."
Feng Hao laughed—a rare, soft sound. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You've been more than mentors. You've been… real."
The Supreme Elder nodded, eyes gleaming with quiet pride. "And that is why we allow it. Go, refine. Grow stronger. Don't waste your time with the trivialities of heirs and concubines. The world will follow your law, whether it likes it or not."
A High-Level Elder smirked. "But don't come back with half-assed power. We've watched juniors before. They fumble, they burn out, they die. We won't spare you if you mess up, Feng Hao."
"Yes, yes, understood," Feng Hao replied with mock exasperation. "I'll try not to disappoint my terrifyingly overbearing mentors."
The Elders laughed—a deep, resonant sound, the kind that made the walls themselves hum with age and wisdom. They weren't afraid of him. They treated him like a junior because, in their eyes, true power comes with understanding, not just cultivation. And Feng Hao accepted that wholeheartedly.
"Three years," said the Ancient Elder, stepping forward, hand resting lightly on the Mountain-and-Seas Map interface. "In three years, show us what you've become. Until then… we watch. Quietly. But we watch."
"I'll make it worth your patience," Feng Hao said, eyes closing as a faint golden aura rose around him. The light rippled across the map, touching every region, every Spirit Vein, every new sub-dynasty. The Nine God Dynasty was alive, growing, and loyal beyond measure—even without him directly there.
And with that, he turned and left the Imperial Hall, heading toward the Three Thousand Immortal Island. The elders watched him go, grumbling, teasing, but in their hearts… proud. Their junior wasn't just surviving. He was preparing to surpass even them.
The clouds parted over the Three Thousand Immortal Island. Feng Hao's robes fluttered lightly as he stepped onto the island's peak. The Dao flowed around him, whispering secrets of mountains and seas, carrying the weight of millions of Spirit Veins, trillions of souls, and two hundred newly conquered regions.
He stopped. The island was quiet, almost expectant. A place of legends, of cultivators who had spent countless millennia chasing enlightenment. Now, it waited for him—not as a visitor, but as a master of his own seclusion.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, gaze sweeping over the endless forests, mountains, and waterfalls, "time to… disappear."
He raised a hand, summoning the Mountain-and-Seas Map. Each sub-dynasty blinked in its space, Divine Generals and Commanders already managing the new territories. He didn't need to micro-manage, but one thing mattered: constant awareness, constant preparation.
"System," he said, voice calm, almost playful, "sign in every day. Summon all units in the barracks daily. I want the Divine Soldiers, Generals, Commanders—everyone—ready and accounted for. No excuses."
The map shimmered, a faint golden glow confirming the command.
"Understood, Feng Hao. Daily sign-in and full unit summoning activated."
"Good," he replied, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "I want all sub-dynasties reporting status daily, too. Growth, cultivation, recruitment… nothing missed. And if any unit slacks, I want them flagged immediately. I don't want excuses, only results."
He let out a small chuckle, unheard by anyone but himself. "Even in seclusion, I'll keep my empire alive. Every Spirit Vein, every region, every mortal dynasty… under my watch."
The mountain air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of Dao essence. He stepped into the central chamber of the island, a cavern carved into the heart of the peak, illuminated by floating golden glyphs—ancient marks of the Three Thousand Immortals.
"For three years, this is my world," he whispered, palms pressed together in meditation. "No distractions, no dynastic affairs, no petty politics. Just cultivation, just growth, and just… preparation."
The system pinged softly, reminding him:
"All units summoned. Daily reports uploaded. Sub-dynasties functioning at optimal efficiency."
Feng Hao smirked faintly. "Good. Keep doing this. Every day. No slacking."
He sank into the meditation platform, the Dao swirling around him like liquid gold, the mountains themselves bowing slightly under his aura. Outside, the Nine God Dynasty thrived in perfect order. Inside, Feng Hao disappeared from the world—but his will never left it.
The first morning of seclusion passed. The second. The third. And every day, without fail, units rose from the barracks, sub-dynasties reported in, and the empire grew silently, efficiently, under his unblinking gaze.
The Elders, watching remotely, couldn't help but smirk. "Little brat," one muttered, "disappears for three years, and yet… the empire doesn't breathe without him. I almost… respect that."
"Almost?" another Elder teased, shaking his head. "He's already exceeded what any junior should even dream of."
Feng Hao, deep in his meditation, would have heard none of it. But the golden aura swirling around the island hinted at one thing: the junior had become a storm, quiet and patient, waiting to return.
Three Thousand Immortal Island floated outside the normal flow of time.
It wasn't large—at least, not to the eye.
But anyone who truly understood space knew better.
One island.
Three thousand layered immortal formations.
Each layer folded into the next like overlapping worlds.
Feng Hao stepped onto the shore.
The moment his foot touched the jade-white stone, the surrounding sea stilled. Waves froze mid-motion. Wind halted as if someone had grabbed reality by the throat.
Behind him, several elders followed.
None of them stood straight.
Not because they were weak—
but because to them, Feng Hao was still that junior who had once asked them naive cultivation questions, who had bowed properly, who had never once spoken arrogantly to an elder.
An old man with snow-white brows laughed softly.
"So you really plan to hide for three years?"
Another elder snorted.
"Hide? He's running."
Feng Hao turned, helpless.
"Elders, you make it sound bad."
A female elder shook her head, clicking her tongue.
"Bad? We finally finish cleaning up a Tier 3 hegemon, and now you want to vanish?"
An elder with a long staff leaned closer, eyes sharp but warm.
"You're already Ancestral Lord level in foundation. Your bloodline is stable. Your Dao is clear."
Then, casually:
"It's time you take a concubine. At least one."
The others immediately piled on.
"Correct. One is enough."
"No, two. Balance yin and yang."
"You don't even need affection, just heirs."
"Are you planning to let the Nine God Dynasty end with you?"
Feng Hao's scalp went numb.
"Elders—stop—"
"Junior," one elder interrupted, smiling kindly, "this is advice, not an order."
That somehow made it worse.
Feng Hao bowed deeply.
"Your junior understands your concern."
Then he straightened and said very quickly:
"But I refuse."
Silence.
One elder raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Feng Hao scratched his cheek, suddenly looking much younger.
"I'm… not ready. And my cultivation is unstable."
An elder scoffed.
"Unstable? You just crushed a Tier 3 Spirit Dynasty."
"That's external power," Feng Hao replied seriously.
"My own Dao needs refinement."
The elders exchanged glances.
Finally, the oldest among them sighed.
"…He's right."
Another elder waved a hand.
"Fine. But don't regret it later."
Feng Hao immediately clasped his hands again.
"Thank you, elders."
He turned toward the island's center.
"I will enter deep seclusion. Three years."
A pause.
"No interruptions unless the dynasty itself is threatened."
One elder chuckled.
"You sound like you're afraid we'll drag you back out."
"I am," Feng Hao admitted honestly.
Laughter echoed across the island.
As Feng Hao walked deeper, formation after formation parted before him. Stone paths unfolded, Dao inscriptions dimmed to allow passage.
At the heart of the island stood a simple cave.
No palace.
No throne.
Just stone, silence, and a single meditation platform.
Feng Hao sat down.
The world closed.
Inside the cave, Feng Hao exhaled slowly.
Then, calmly:
"System."
The familiar presence answered instantly.
He didn't look at any panels.
He spoke plainly.
"From today onward, execute daily Divine Mountain Barracks summons."
"Summon all available units each day."
"Divine Soldiers. Divine Captains. Divine Commanders. Divine Generals."
"Elders included."
"Do not suspend summoning due to seclusion."
"Let them advance, cultivate, train, and stabilize the dynasty."
A brief pause.
Then Feng Hao added,
"I'll handle my Dao. You handle everything else."
The cave trembled faintly.
Far away—
Across the Nine God Dynasty—
The Divine Mountain Barracks activated.
For the first time, on a daily cycle.
Above countless regions, light descended.
Divine Soldiers stepped out of nothingness, armor forming as they breathed.
All were newly Summoned. eyes sharp with instinctive loyalty.
Divine Captains appeared in squads, immediately organizing formations without orders.
Divine Commanders manifested atop spirit platforms, their cultivation surging as if waking from a long sleep.
Divine Generals opened their eyes mid-air, feeling their realms stabilize, their Dao clearer than yesterday.
Divine Marshals
dragon Guards, Dragon Guard Commanders 1 star Heavenly Marshals and generals and All elders from elder Hall summoned on daily basis.
Even the elders felt it.
An old Supreme Elder opened his eyes and laughed.
"…Again?"
Another elder frowned, sensing his cultivation rise a notch.
"This junior really doesn't waste time."
Day one.
Day two.
Day ten.
Every sunrise, the barracks emptied.
Every sunset, it filled again—stronger than before.
And deep within Three Thousand Immortal Island—
Feng Hao sat unmoving.
Breath slow.
Mind vast.
Three years passed In the outside world
In The Three Thousand Immortal Island
3000 Years Passed Although its a special Space Occasionally Feng Hao would wake up from Deeo seclusion To Stretch his muscles.
Outside, the dynasty surged like a living thing.
Inside, a junior quietly walked a path no one else could see.
And when he finally opened his eyes again—
The world would no longer be the same.