When she left, Jiang Chen looked at Jiang Huan with puzzlement. Why had he agreed so readily?

Jiang Huan transmitted, a grin hanging on his face, “The walls have ears. Let’s talk later. In short, we’ll join them and then win a spot for them at the competition. It’s the precondition for the next step of our plan.”

“The next step? Uncle, what did you learn?”

“In sixty years, there’ll be a grand congregation of all the titled godkings in the Taiyuan Plane. Rumor has it that this meeting will decide Taiyuan’s fate. It’s imperative we attend it.”

A conference of titled godkings?

On the Taiyuan Plane, every godking-level existence was bestowed a title. It could be the lordship of a lesser world, of a fertile region, or of a secret realm. No matter the level of the title itself, each of them was a ruler in his own right.

A greater world possessed at least dozens of such overlords.

Of course, there was no telling how many of them were left amidst Taiyuan’s turmoils, but a few dozen was the bare minimum for a greater world. For example, one such godking oversaw Crimsonwaters.

Both Fiendstar and White Drake were local factions. As such, they had to obey the will of the world’s sovereign, lest they provoke his ire and be reduced to ashes in a matter of minutes.

The world of cultivation was strictly divided into hierarchical strata. Few dared defy the pecking order, except in the case of rebellion, but that was another story altogether.

Jiang Chen understood the implications without the need for further elaboration.

The godkings were to assemble in sixty years. He had to attain that cultivation realm before the fateful date, then find an opportunity during the conference to wrest back control.

It would be do or die. In case of failure, his exposed identity would make him a public target, not to mention the avarice an exposed creation token would cause.

For a godking, taking a token was equivalent to obtaining the blessing of the supreme dao. One could call themselves a legitimate celestial emperor with it. No one with a shred of ambition could resist its siren call.

Fiendstar’s Han Shuang soon returned as spiritedly as she’d left, bearing her sect’s proposal.

“Gentlemen, this is the list of terms we’re ready to offer. Please take a look. Everything is negotiable.” She boldly handed over the list.

Jiang Chen let Jiang Huan peruse it first.

The older man skimmed over it, smiled, then passed it to the young lord. A myriad of gaudy items was written on it, from treasures to gems, to various promises of status, down to women.

Jiang Chen shrugged with a smile. “I have no objection.”

Jiang Huan laughed out loud. “Sectmistress Han is truly sincere. From today on, the two of us are yours to command. But I have to mention something upfront. If unfortunate events or our own affairs lead us to depart, please don’t try to stop us.”

Han Shuang blinked. “What’s this talk of quitting before you even join?”

“Heh, I promise we’ll see the competition to the end at the very least. Also, we must take part in the audience with the celestial emperor. It’ll be a first for us to meet such an august figure.”

“That’s fully acceptable as long as you can contribute to the contest for the lake,” Han Shuang promised on the spot.

It was a relief to learn they wouldn’t leave before the main event. And if they had business elsewhere afterwards, then that was that. A no-nonsense woman like her wasn’t in the murky business of detaining people against their will.

After finalizing the agreement, Jiang Chen and Jiang Huan followed her to Fiendstar’s headquarters.

On Crimsonwaters, the sect ranked somewhere between a bottom tier first-rate faction and one of the strongest second-rate ones. To reach the top five seemed close to impossible.

The top ten would have been a cinch, but unfortunately, there had only ever been five spots in total, and not a single one more.

So the sect faced an uphill battle. They weren’t one of the front runners. In fact, many sects considered them flimsy opposition at best.

But their lack of strength was the very reason for their thirst for talent. As a result, Han Shuang had sent her men scouring the world high and low for powerhouses.

There were few restrictions in the competition. Anyone belonging to the sect could participate, no matter their join date.

Jiang Chen and Jiang Huan had concealed their strength, but what little they’d revealed was enough to tempt Fiendstar. After all, the sectmistress herself was merely a seventh level god.

The sect also had two elders at the same level, their cultivation a hair inferior to hers, but no other advanced gods could be found in the whole of Fiendstar.

In comparison, White Drake’s sectmaster was at ninth level, with some elders also at the eighth level.

It went without saying one of the spots had their name written on it. They were top three in strength on Crimsonwaters, and only two other sects deserved being mentioned in the same sentence. These were in fact also assured of final victory.

As a result, there were only two spots left for Fiendstar to fight over. At a minimum, close to ten sects were powerful enough to vie for them.

Among these, Fiendstar didn’t even rank in the top five. Many of them had seemingly better odds. All things considered, Fiendstar was in a precarious, nigh-hopeless situation.

Listening to Han Shuang’s analysis, Jiang Chen and Jiang Huan glanced at each other without voicing their inner thoughts.

To tell the truth, the competition would be a breeze with their full strength. Few, if anyone, on Crimsonstars could withstand them. The lesser world’s titled godking in person would struggle against two ninth level gods, four mature divine beasts, to say nothing of the incomparably savage Goldbiter Rats.

But it was too soon for them to unleash their true power.

“Elders, you’ve already joined our sect, so please feel free to mention any good ideas you might have. I’m fully open to different views.” Han Shuang was determined to lay her hands on one of the five seats.