Inside the cave on the West Mountain, Zhou Ming was awakened from his meditation by the deep, resonant tolling of a bell.

The bell's sound drifted from the massive cave entrance on the cliff, rippling slowly in his ears.

Zhou Ming opened his eyes, his Divine Sense instinctively spreading out and enveloping the direction of Yongning City.

From the city gates to the main entrance of the Imperial Palace, the entire city of Yongning was covered in a sea of red silk, billowing like waves in the morning breeze.

The long streets were packed with people, and the Black Armor Army, clad in shining armor, stood in formation on both sides of the Imperial Way, their spears and halberds forming a forest, their banners blocking out the sun.

He had been immersed in Cultivate for the past two days and had completely lost track of time.

Since the news from Fengdu City had spread across the world, the heat in his Dantian had grown stronger day by day, converging into streams of warmth that surged within his Dantian and finally flowed into his purple-gold Nascent Soul.

However, the total amount of magic power required for the Nascent Soul Stage was more than a hundred times that of the Golden Core Stage.

Even though tens of thousands of Causal Chains were breaking every day, and a steady stream of magic power poured into his Dantian from all directions.

The threshold from the Nascent Soul Stage to the Soul Transformation Stage remained distant and unreachable.

Zhou Ming could feel his cultivation level growing steadily, but he still had a very, very long way to go before a Breakthrough.

But matters of reaching a new Realm could not be rushed.

Zhou Ming brushed the non-existent dust from his robes, stood up from his prayer mat, and cast his Divine Sense back toward Yongning City.

The main gate of the Imperial Palace, twenty miles outside Yongning City, was slowly opening.

The heavy vermilion doors slid to the sides with the sound of hinges turning; the axle emitted a low, long hum that drowned out the breathing of the tens of thousands of people in the square.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on the depths of the gateway.

A figure was slowly walking out from the shadows of the gate.

Empress Su Mingyue was not wearing a Dragon robe.

She was still wearing that ink-black iron armor, the plates layered from her shoulders down to her knees.

The breastplate was engraved with the emblem of the Northern Commanders Residence, and the shoulder guards curved slightly upward like folded eagle wings.

At her waist hung a long sword, a few inches longer than an ordinary sword; the scabbard was ink-black, with only a tiny character "Su" carved into the guard.

The square, filled with tens of thousands of people, was deathly silent.

There were no shouts of "long live," no beating of drums or sounding of music; everyone simply watched her in silence.

Every step Empress Su Mingyue took, her black armor emitted a faint metallic clink, a sound amplified and made exceptionally clear in the silent square.

It was not an Emperor ascending the throne, but a general entering the battlefield.

Empress Su Mingyue stopped in front of the Vermilion Steps.

She did not immediately ascend the Dragon throne that had stood empty for so long, but instead turned around.

Facing the civil and military officials on both sides of the Imperial Way, facing the densely packed Black Armor Army soldiers below the Vermilion Steps, and facing the endless crowd of commoners on the main street.

Her gaze swept slowly across every face, and then she spoke.

Her voice was not loud, yet it drowned out the sound of the wind across the entire square:

"Three days ago, someone asked me, 'You are but a woman, by what right do you claim the throne?'"

Empress Su Mingyue's gaze swept over the empty standing positions below the Vermilion Steps—those positions originally belonged to the heads of the noble families who had died at the entrance of the Marquis's residence yesterday.

She did not continue, but everyone understood what she meant.

The thirty-some corpses lying in front of the Marquis's residence had already answered for her.

After a moment of silence, she withdrew her gaze and took a bright yellow imperial edict from her sleeve.

She did not let the ceremonial eunuch do it for her; instead, she unfolded it herself and read word for word:

"The Great Xia dynasty has been passed down for over six hundred years. The Emperor Zhengde lost the Dao, the world fell into chaos, heroes rose up, and the nation collapsed."

"I am the daughter of the Youzhou Marquis's residence, carrying on my late father's will, commanding the troops of the North, pacifying Yun Province, settling Chong Province, and reclaiming Cang Prefecture. The Nine Provinces have returned to my heart, and a million soldiers and civilians pledge their lives to me."

"However, heaven has unpredictable winds and clouds; hundreds of powerful clans have returned, stirring up the winds and clouds of the world."

"Today, the world is not yet settled, the Nine Provinces are not yet pacified, and I dare not claim merit."

"A country cannot go a day without a ruler, and the nation cannot remain leaderless for long."

"I accept the mandate of heaven, follow the will of the people, and ascend to the throne of Emperor. The national title shall be Great Ming."

"From this day forward, all military and civilians of Great Ming shall be my subjects."

"All the territories of the Nine Provinces shall be my territory."

After finishing, she closed the edict, raised her eyes to look below the Imperial Way, swept her gaze over everyone's faces, and said the last sentence, word by word.

"I swear here: until the world is pacified, I shall not wear the yellow robe, nor shall I remove this armor."

She turned and climbed the steps, walking toward the solitary Dragon throne on the Vermilion Steps.

When she reached the front of the Dragon throne, she stopped, gripped the hilt of the long sword at her waist, and drew it with a swish.

The sword light cut a cold arc in the morning sun; she pointed the tip downward and thrust it heavily into the gold-brick floor in front of the Dragon throne.

The blade sank several inches into the gold brick, the sword body vibrating incessantly, emitting a clear and long hum.

Empress Su Mingyue did not sit on the Dragon throne.

She planted the sword in front of the Dragon throne, stood behind the sword, and turned to face the civil and military officials below the Vermilion Steps.

The full court of civil and military officials knelt in unison.

The Black Armor Army below the Vermilion Steps knelt on one knee; the clanging sound of armor colliding extended from both sides of the Imperial Way all the way to the main street.

Tens of thousands of commoners knelt like a receding tide, their foreheads pressed against the bluestone slabs and the dirt road.

The sound of "long live," like a crashing mountain or a roaring sea, erupted from the main gate of the Imperial Palace, rolled across the Imperial Way, rolled across the long street, rolled across the sky above all of Yongning City, and echoed for a long time under the firmament.

Zhou Ming stood on the peak of the West Mountain, taking it all in.

Looking at the magnificent Imperial Palace in the direction of Yongning City, looking at the figure in black armor and silver spear on the Vermilion Steps.

From the time he told Empress Su Mingyue the story of a female emperor ascending the throne at the Martial Arts Training Ground, to now, when she had personally thrust her sword before the Dragon throne.

Perhaps Empress Su Mingyue had not yet unified the world, and perhaps she was far from being a true emperor in the human sense, but she had already stood at the starting point of every emperor.

And he had witnessed this process with his own eyes.

"Hmm, let me give you another surprise."

Zhou Ming muttered to himself, his hands forming a complex spell in front of his chest.

Purple-gold magic power flowed from his fingertips, condensing, compressing, and shaping between his palms.

A fist-sized fireball appeared out of thin air, but unlike the scorching white light of a normal Fireball Technique.

This fireball had layers of crimson-gold patterns circulating within it.

Each pattern was intertwining at an extremely high speed, as if an invisible brush was sketching something inside the flames.

As Zhou Ming flicked his ten fingers, strands of magic power as thin as hair were injected into the fireball.

Zhou Ming was sculpting the bones, feathers, and plumes for this Phoenix.

With fire as bone and light as feather, he precisely controlled the curvature and luster of every plume.

"Go."

Zhou Ming gave a low shout and pushed his hands forward.

The fist-sized fireball flew from his palms and grew as it met the wind.

One zhang, three zhang, ten zhang, dozens of zhang.

As the fireball flew away from the West Mountain, it expanded and transformed rapidly, first spreading out a pair of flaming wings that covered the sky.

Every flying feather on the wings was condensed from dancing crimson-gold flames, the edges of the feathers tinged with a pale blue high-temperature radiance, flowing with brilliant luster in the morning sun.

Immediately afterward, a long, elegant Phoenix neck rose proudly from the flames; three plume crowns stood high on the Phoenix head; the Phoenix eyes were half-closed, the corners of the eyes narrow and upturned, revealing a divine radiance that looked down upon all living things.

Finally, the tail feathers; nine long tail feathers spread out from behind the Phoenix.

Each one was woven from flowing flames, dragging fine sparks at the ends, drifting slowly with the wind.