“What? You’re saying this is the Burning Heaven Sect’s doing, not some random demonic uprising?” Wang Longyou stood up, his face pale with shock.

Patriarch Wang Guang’an paced the floor of the main hall, his expression grim. “The Southern Sea is divided strictly. We are in the heartland of the Righteous Path. How could a powerful demonic faction suddenly emerge here without warning? If they wanted war, they wouldn’t choose now, not when the Righteous and Demonic paths are united against the Demon Beast tides. It makes no strategic sense.”

He stopped pacing and turned to the gathered elders. “The Lu family were pawns. The Burning Heaven Sect provided them with flawed, half-baked demonic arts. That is why Wang Hao sensed something was off—they had the form of demons, but not the true essence.”

“It was a trap from the beginning,” Wang Guang’an continued, dissecting the enemy’s strategy. “The attacks on the Qingyuan trade routes were designed to provoke. The Qingyuan Sect, unable to swallow the insult, sent a punitive force to exterminate the Lu family. That force walked right into an ambush.”

“But if that’s true,” Wang Hao asked, “the ones who ambushed True Monarch Baili must have been Golden Core elders from the Burning Heaven Sect. Baili would know the difference between a demonic cultivator and a sect rival. Why hasn’t the Qingyuan Sect retaliated? Why the silence?”

Wang Guang’an looked at the three men before him. “Because the Qingyuan Sect is playing the long game. They know exactly who hit them. By refusing to react, they force the Burning Heaven Sect to make the next move. It is the strategy of using stillness to control movement. But there is more to it.”

He paused, a new thought taking shape. “Du Guangchao has been at the late Golden Core stage for decades. He is roughly four hundred and twenty years old. Could he be… attempting to form a Nascent Soul?”

Wang Longyou’s eyes widened. “Wait. The rumors said the trade convoys were vulnerable because the Golden Core elders had returned to the sect early. What could be more important than protecting the sect’s wealth? Unless… unless they truly went to the Qian Yuan Continent to purchase spiritual items for a Nascent Soul breakthrough?”

“That explains everything,” Wang Guang’an breathed, the pieces falling into place. “If Du Guangchao succeeds, a mere Burning Heaven Sect will be nothing to fear. Whatever territory or face they lose today, they will reclaim tenfold tomorrow. No wonder they are enduring the humiliation in silence. Protecting Du Guangchao is the only thing that matters.”

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled.

The Burning Heaven Sect had been clever. They knew the Qingyuan Sect sent convoys to the mainland every decade—it was an open secret. They couldn’t know about the Nascent Soul items, but they knew the schedule. By leaking the route to their pawns in the Lu family, they baited the Qingyuan Sect into exposing a Golden Core master.

The Lu family was a ‘discarded piece’—a sacrifice to draw blood.

The plan had worked perfectly. True Monarch Baili was gravely wounded, tipping the balance of power. Four Golden Core masters against two. Even with the defensive formation, the scales were tilting dangerously toward the Burning Heaven Sect.

But the Burning Heaven Sect had miscalculated one thing: Du Guangchao’s seclusion.

Now, the Qingyuan Sect was gambling everything. They had abandoned their vassal families, letting panic spread, refusing to waste resources on defense. If Du Guangchao succeeded, the traitors and invaders would be purged in fire. If he failed… Qingyuan Mountain would simply change its name.

“So what do we do?” Wang Yanzhao asked, his brow furrowed. As the clan head, the burden of survival rested heavily on his shoulders.

“Two preparations,” Wang Guang’an said, his voice steel. “First, while the teleportation arrays are still open, we move a branch of the family overseas immediately. If the worst happens, the Wang bloodline survives. Second, we hoard resources and prepare for war.”

He looked directly at Wang Hao. “Wenhao, you will lead the overseas group. Leave immediately. Do not return for fifty years.”

“Uncle Ancestor,” Wang Longyou interjected, “isn’t that too hasty? What if we are wrong?”

“Even if we are wrong,” Wang Guang’an countered, “diversifying our family is never a mistake.”

Wang Hao stood silent for a moment. To leave now would be safe. It would be easy. But he thought of the clansmen he had fought beside, the people who looked to him for leadership. A small Foundation Establishment family was nothing but cannon fodder in a war between sects. Without a powerful protector, the Wang family would be ground into dust.

Wang Hao was pragmatic, yes. But he was not a coward who abandoned his own.

“Ancestor,” Wang Hao said firmly. “I believe the one who should go is you, not me.”

Wang Guang’an looked up, surprised. “Explain.”

“Going overseas is difficult,” Wang Hao argued. “The open sea is brutal. Without a Golden Core cultivator, we cannot claim an island. We would be forced to live in Wanxiang City as tenants, unable to expand, slowly bleeding out our resources. We would survive, but we would never thrive.”

“You are the only one close to the Golden Core stage,” Wang Hao continued, his voice gaining conviction. “You are the key. If you go, you can attempt the breakthrough in safety. If you succeed, you can establish a true foundation overseas—or return to save us.”

“Wenhao is right,” Wang Yanzhao agreed, grasping the logic immediately. “If the Qingyuan Sect can gamble everything on a breakthrough, so can the Wang family.”

Wang Guang’an hesitated. “Why not go together?”

“The target is too big,” Wang Hao replied. “The last time we used the array, the guards were lax. Now, with the war looming, they will be watching. A mass exodus of our elites would trigger suspicion. You must go alone, Ancestor. And you must suppress your aura completely to avoid detection.”