Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 732: Chapter 732- Emperor Tianlong’s Return

The twelve elders, their faces composed, their spiritual senses scanning the boy, the void energy, the developing body, bowed. The motion, synchronized, formal, was the acknowledgment of a lineage claim.

"Indeed," the lead elder, an old man with a long white beard and sharp eyes, said. His voice was deep. Resonant. The voice of a being who had lived for centuries. "The bloodline is confirmed. The Vermillion Tribe’s last heir. We have waited three hundred years."

He paused. His sharp eyes, on the boy, narrowed.

"Now we just have to wait for the decree of the royal palace," he continued. "The king is bedridden. The mortal world’s fate is in paradigm. The succession, the minister positions, the factions, all of it, is in flux."

Another elder, a woman with sharp features and cold eyes, spoke. "It doesn’t matter. That old man would eventually leave. And the next royal prince would need the support of the new immortals who would naturally come victorious after the entrance of the inheritance for the positions of the ministers."

Her words, the political analysis, the strategic assessment, were delivered with the casual certainty of a woman who had been playing this game for decades.

The lead elder nodded. "The royal faction would fall. The prince, the heir apparent, has no backing among the new generation. The families that do not have a proper heir are already sending their strongest elders to retrieve candidates from the lower worlds. Like this one." He gestured at Lau, at the boy in the silver-haired elder’s arms.

"The competition for minister positions would be fierce," another elder said. His voice was grave. "The inheritance trials, the Upper World legacy sites, the fate value accumulation. All of it, is designed to produce the next generation of leaders. And the families that secure the strongest heirs would dominate the next era."

The lead elder’s sharp eyes swept the room. His voice, deep, carried the weight of command.

"Start the preparations," he said. "The boy needs to be placed in the Vermillion Academy. His cultivation needs to be accelerated. His memories, his identity, his bloodline, all need to be awakened. The inheritance trials begin in six months. He needs to be ready."

The elders moved. The hall, the formal chamber, emptied. The silver-haired elder, the boy still in his arms, was led away. The portal, the spatial tear, closed.

~ The Lower World — The Hall of Submission

The hall was filled with moans.

The meeting hall of the Azure Cloud Sect, the formal chamber where sect leaders and elders gathered for council, was transformed. The wooden table, the long, polished surface that had hosted decades of strategic discussions, was occupied. Not by elders. Not by sect leaders.

By Tianlong.

He sat in a wooden chair. Not the sect leader’s throne. A simple, wooden chair, placed at the head of the table. His formal attire, the dark silk and crimson rope, was loose. The sash, untied, hung open. His chest, golden, muscular, was visible. His legs, spread, were beneath the table.

His cock was out. The shaft, twelve inches, pale and thick, was in two mouths.

Jin Yuhan, the princess, was on the left. Her slender body, her formal white and jade-green robes, was kneeling. Her small hands, pale, gripped the shaft. Her mouth, her coral lips, her tongue, worked the head. She sucked. Her cheeks hollowed. Her dark eyes, half-closed, were on his face. Her head, bobbing, moved with practiced rhythm.

"Slurp... slurp..."

Liu Mei, the former astral spirit, was on the right. Her voluptuous body, her purple robes, was kneeling. Her large hands, pale, massaged his balls. Her mouth, her lips, her tongue, worked the shaft. She licked. From the base to the middle. Her amethyst eyes, looking up, were attentive.

"Mmmph... slurp..."

The hall, the wooden walls, the polished table, the formal chamber, was filled with the sounds. The wet, obscene sounds of two women sucking a cock. The slurping. The moaning. The muffled sounds of mouths on flesh.

The elders, the four Azure Cloud Sect elders, were seated along the table. Biyu, Hanlin, Suwen, Tianqing. Their faces, composed, their eyes down, were the faces of men who had accepted their position. Their spiritual senses, extended, could feel the divine qi radiating from the man at the head of the table. The pressure, the weight, the absolute dominance, kept their heads bowed.

Jin Wuchen, the sect leader, stood behind Tianlong’s chair. His enormous frame, his formal robes, his dark eyes, were rigid. His hands, behind his back, were clenched. His jaw, square, was tight. The position, the standing, the subservience, was a testament to the power dynamics. The sect leader, the peak Golden Core cultivator, the lord of the Azure Cloud Sect, was standing behind a seated man like a bodyguard.

Tianlong sipped his tea. The cup, jade, the spirit-tea within, steamed. His gold-crimson eyes, looking at the elders, were calm. Relaxed. The expression of a man enjoying a morning beverage while having his cock sucked.

"The upper world," he said. His voice was conversational. The tone of a man bringing up a topic of interest. "Tell me about it."

The elders exchanged glances. Biyu, the sharp-faced elder, spoke first. His voice was careful. Measured.

"Lord Immortal," he said. "The upper world, the immortal realm, is divided into tiers. The lower tier, where mortals who have ascended begin their cultivation anew. The middle tier, where the established sects and families hold power. And the higher tier, where the great dynasties and the ancestral sects reside."

Tianlong sipped his tea. "Names."

"The Vermillion Sect," Biyu continued. "The Azure Dragon Clan. The White Tiger Tribe. The Black Tortoise Lineage. These are the four great ancestral sects of the higher tier. They are the oldest, the most powerful, the most influential."

"And the provinces?" Tianlong said.

"The provinces," Hanlin, the white-bearded elder, said. His voice was aged. Scholarly. "The immortal world is divided into provinces. Each province is governed by a family or a sect. The Arcane Pill Province. The Crimson Flame Province. The Jade River Province. The Purple Astral Province. Many others."

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes, on the elders, held thought. The names, the provinces, the ancestral sects, the tiers, were filing into his mind. The upper world, the immortal realm, the world he had left behind, was not a single entity. It was a complex, layered, political landscape with factions, families, and power structures.

"The Purple Astral Province," he said. His voice was soft. The name, the province, triggered a connection. Liu Mei, the former astral spirit, the woman whose mouth was on his cock, was from the Purple Astral Province. The amethyst hair, the purple eyes, the astral origin.

Liu Mei, her mouth full of his shaft, looked up. Her amethyst eyes, meeting his gold-crimson ones, held recognition. She released his cock. The shaft, slick with her saliva, emerged.

"Master," she said. Her husky voice was respectful. "The Purple Astral Province. It is my home. Or it was. Before I was sealed. The Purple Astral Ancestral Sect, the ruling family, was my lineage. I was... I was once the ancestor of the Purple Province."

The hall went silent. The elders, their faces down, their eyes wide, processed the information. The astral spirit, the woman who had been sealed for three thousand years, was the ancestor of a province. A being of immense political significance.

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes held hers. The information, the connection, the potential, was noted. Filed. Stored.

He looked at the elders. At their bowed heads. At their suppressed qi. At the hall, the formal chamber, the wooden table, the moans that still filled the air.

"I would have to ascend back," he said. His voice was calm. The tone of a man making a decision. "It seems."