Shen Zhihao had always considered himself the heaven's chosen one, an individual whose good looks and innate talent for cultivation had earned him the position of the leader of the Yinhai sect, one of the most well-known and respected in the entire empire.

Of course, the fact that, at just twenty-one years old, he held such a powerful position had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his father was the master and lord of those lands. It was also irrelevant that his only older brother – theoretically the heir to the clan – had been repudiated and banished from their domains years ago, making Shen Zhihao the favored son of his progenitor.

No, none of that mattered because, after seven years as the absolute governor of the Yinhai sect, Shen Zhihao's rear end was firmly planted on the throne in the official meeting room. And he was determined that nothing and no one would move him from there.

His father's last will before passing away turned out to be that he should be the one to continue elevating the prestige of the sect, just as the Shen family had been doing since they founded the clan nine generations ago. And Shen Zhihao fulfilled this mission completely. When his father fell ill and could no longer attend to his daily responsibilities as before, Shen Zhihao took over all matters related to clan management, from supervising the proper functioning of the site to ensuring that its influence continued to command respect wherever it was heard, thereby spreading the Yinhai legacy among his peers.

All in all, one could say that Shen Zhihao was doing a relatively good job. He was known as the absolute leader of the mountain, and no one dared to oppose his rule. He had luxurious accommodations to spend his days immersed in improving his cultivation, more wealth than he could ever use, and a whole army of wise elders who followed his wisdom and always ensured that the sect stood out above all others.

Hundreds of disciples came to the Yinhai lands every year to try their luck and seek acceptance by a master, hoping to become cultivators someday. Shen Zhihao was not very keen on taking disciples for himself, always considering that he had no patience to teach and no time to devote to others, given that he had to fully dedicate himself to leadership tasks right after his adolescence. However, this did not stop people from coming, attracted by his reputation. Each year, more individuals decided to embark on the path of knowledge within this particular clan.

This, of course, was a source of pride for Shen Zhihao. Unlike his father, he had not even spent ten years in this position, but he couldn't imagine a world where he would not continue to be the leader of this sacred place.

"They're going to kick you out," said Deng Li, the sect's official advisor and, therefore, one of the individuals Shen Zhihao trusted the most. Suddenly, one beautiful summer day, he appeared before Shen Zhihao to deliver this news.

"Excuse me?" Shen Zhihao inquired, a mix of surprise and indignation in his tone.

"I'm not the one saying this; it's what the Tai Yuan oracle has predicted," Deng Li pointed out, seeming eager to shed any responsibility that came with delivering this dire news.

Shen Zhihao was well aware of that oracle. He had never used it, not being fond of delving into what the immediate future held, but he was aware of its high accuracy rate and the fame it had gained over millennia.

"What has it said exactly? Are my fellow sect members planning a rebellion? Nonsense! They all value me the most, just as it should be! I took them in, provide for them daily, and look after their well-being so they can continue learning and one day become...," Shen Zhihao paused, considering, "perhaps not as all-powerful as me, but at least not end up living under a bridge like ordinary mortals."

"No, the threat comes from outside," Deng Li replied calmly.

Both he and Shen Zhihao were alone in the conference room where the latter used to receive visitors and the council of elders when necessary. The leader of Yinhai was seated on his throne, which was located on a platform several steps above his subordinate. And perhaps, only because he didn't feel like crossing the distance that separated them, that might have been the reason he refrained from shaking him right now to get to the point.

"Who dares to challenge my authority, then?" Shen Zhihao ventured, perhaps too boldly, trying to guess. "Is it the Mingzun clan?"

"No, sir. It's your brother, Shen Yongqi. It seems he has returned and is heading here with a small army, with the clear goal of reclaiming what he considers was stolen from him."

"Stolen," Shen Zhihao scoffed, evident mockery in his tone. "What nonsense."

In the past, you could argue that based on family hierarchies, Shen Yongqi was right. Simply by being born four years before him, he should have had the right to the leadership of the family sect. But that was a long time ago, before his father banished him for the deplorable crime of deceiving him for years, pretending to be his son. There was a family conflict that had caused quite a stir: both Shen Zhihao and Shen Yongqi were born to the same mother but not the same father. It seemed that the wife of the previous leader of Yinhai had an affair during the early years of their marriage with a stranger who had nothing to do with the world of cultivation.

Shen Zhihao never knew who it was, but he imagined that his brother did. After all, their mother had confessed the truth to him during his adolescence. The old Shen eventually found out purely by chance that the eldest of his sons was not really his, once he turned twenty-one and had to undergo a ritual where, unfortunately for him, this fact was discovered.

There was a heated argument on both sides, and Shen Zhihao's father instantly disowned what had been his favorite son until that moment. Shen Yongqi, who was not at all ashamed of his origins, left with his head held high for the northern lands where his other family supposedly lived. After that... did he die? He must have died. Those lands were dangerous; it was said that they were inhabited by hideous creatures and cultivators who had been expelled from their sects due to their unwavering dedication to demonic arts and various sacrifices. What's more, since he left, Shen Yongqi had never sent any message to his remaining brother. Never. Not even when their father passed away. No, Shen Yongqi couldn't come back. If he was still alive, he had no right to take over Yinhai. Not anymore.

"Shouldn't he be dead?" Shen Zhihao tried this time, with the faint hope that none of this was happening.

"The oracle has been very clear about it: It's the long-lost Shen Yongqi without a doubt. Apparently, he has spent the last decade consorting with people of ill repute and amassing an army to plan this assault with which they intend to seize absolute control of Yinhai and the surrounding lands."

Shen Zhihao's blood boiled, to think that he once considered his brother his best friend!

"Demonic cultivators?"

"No, they are mainly alchemists and healers," Deng Li interjected, "although your brother studied under the guidance of some of our best cultivators, so, as you know, he must be well-versed in combat techniques and spells suitable for such an intrusion."

"I'm aware of that. My brother is no slouch, and if he has taught his disciples even half of what he learned here, we'll be in serious trouble," Shen Zhihao sighed; it was too early in the morning to deal with this. "Do you know how many of them there are, and how long it will take them to reach the mountain?"

"They outnumber us by over a hundred, although many of them are young."

"That's not a problem, then. We have plenty of experienced elders in combat; it won't be difficult to get rid of unwanted intruders."

"But they're also bringing beasts," Deng Li finished, apparently not done speaking.

"Beasts... What kind?"

"Tigers, golems, some trolls..."

"It's not that bad."

"And dragons."

Shen Zhihao suddenly went pale. Maybe, he thought distantly, he should have listened to his father at the time and dealt with his trauma regarding these creatures.

Now there was no time for that.

"Um... tell me," Shen Zhihao tried to keep his voice from trembling, which was proving to be a daunting task, "when will they arrive then?"

"In about three days. According to Tai Yuan, they'll launch a surprise attack, appearing just before dawn and sweeping everything in their path. Somehow, they'll also try to persuade the neighboring villages to join them or, at the very least, not to resist the siege."

"Wait, what? Our neighbors too?"

"Only the common folk; his brother hasn't required assistance from any other cultivation clan. Yet."

Shen Zhihao didn't know what burned him more, the ominous "yet" pronounced in a foreboding manner or the fact that those bastards from the neighboring villages decided to turn against him, all of a sudden. Wasn't he a good landlord?

"We need to find a way to defeat them, to use the element of surprise to our advantage," Shen Zhihao declared, rising from his throne and determined to... well, not to slay a dragon, but at least to brandish a sword as a sign of threat. "Notify the council of elders; we need to organize a meeting immediately to devise a plan."

"If I may, there is another prophecy of which you should be aware before taking any further action."

"What are you waiting for, then?" Shen Zhihao sounded exasperated. "What's it going to be now? Speak! Is there going to be a conveniently timed explosion in my chamber?"

"Not that I know of," Deng Li admitted with the calm of someone accustomed to their superior's eccentric questions. "No, the other thing the oracle predicted was the arrival of a hero from distant lands. An individual by the name of Zhao Liangwei, whose power is so immense that, united with his cause, he will successfully defend this sect."