Getting a Sugar Mommy in Cultivation World!! - Chapter 807 - 807: The Unrest in The Empire.

While Noah and wuhan were away from the Feng Empire, things did not wait for them to return. The major families in the empire first inquired about Wuhan’s whereabouts, but they stopped once they learned that ‘the emperor was in Seclusion, attempting a breakthrough in his techniques.’

Being cultivators themselves, they understood the need for one to constantly try and get stronger in the cutthroat world.

But understanding was one thing, and not acting on the information was another. All four major clans subtly tried to push their people to spread their influence within the city. From the spirit rice to the number of their clansmen in the royal court, they wanted to gain the upper hand in all the situations.

Yet, they ended up overestimating their reach and underestimating the prime minister, Shi Tzu. With the help of his loyal subordinates, the man thwarted their plans and stabilized the influence of all families.

Not only that, as a warning, he even made them push back, earning the four clans some great losses. Those Losses that ended up in the royal treasury.

Everything in the Royal city was going great until one day, the demons of the past trapped in the walls of the castle, in an attempt to bury them, surfaced.

Like every other secret, this one too was bound to come out.

Since Wuhan left, only a week had passed before this disaster struck. Inside the secret room where a mysterious dark coffin that oozed with the scent of despair and carnage was bound by several chains, the impending doom finally struck.

The dark energy that had been eating away at the final chain finally finished its work. With a crisp snap, the chain shattered, sending shards of metal in all directions.

Boom!

The rest of the chains disappeared like an illusion, leaving the coffin to hover in the air on its own. Instead of falling down, it stayed in the same place.

The dark coffin, covered in strange carvings, floated free after its last chain snapped. Tiny cracks spread across its black lid, glowing with a creepy purple light. With a loud creak, the lid slid open, sparks of red flashing like fire.

Thick, black mist poured out, twisting like snakes and snuffing out the faint spirit lamps.

The mist swirled and gathered, forming a tall, shadowy figure cloaked in darkness. Its face was hidden under a hood of shadows, but two glowing red eyes shone with evil. The room filled with the smell of death and ruin.

As the figure took the first step, the floor underneath its feet started to decay at an alarming rate. Then suddenly, several huge arrays—the size of the walls themselves—appeared out of nowhere, covering the entire room.

The figure slowly raised its head to reveal a menacing smile on its cracked lips and whispered in a voice that sounded more demonic than human, “There is no way I will leave so early. I have to gain a bit of the energy I have lost over the past decades.”

Even though she said those words, the woman snapped her fingers, and instantly all the arrays shattered like fragile glass mirrors, disappearing into the air.

While the figure prepared itself, everyone else in the royal palace had no idea of the disaster that was about to befall them.

Another week passed in peace, or at least what seemed like peace on the surface.

Inside the grand hall of the royal court, a meeting was in full swing. Ministers, generals, clan representatives, and court officials filled the room, their voices rising and falling like waves. The topic was unrest at the borders—reports of bandits, strange sightings, and whispers of cultivators moving in the shadows.

“How long will His Majesty remain in seclusion?” one of the generals asked, his brows furrowed as he slammed his fist on the table. “The longer he stays away, the bolder our enemies will become.”

A minister adjusted his robes and replied, “The emperor’s breakthrough cannot be rushed. You should know this better than anyone here. If he is disturbed during this crucial time, the consequences could be dire.”

“That may be true,” another voice interjected, this one from a clan elder seated on the side. His tone carried a sharp edge. “But do you intend for us to sit here while the empire bleeds? Already, the clans are restless. Every day that passes without a show of strength, the more they whisper behind closed doors.”

The hall fell into murmurs, some agreeing, others shaking their heads.

From the high seat, Prime Minister Shi Tzu finally spoke, his calm voice cutting through the noise. “His Majesty will emerge when the time is right. Until then, the responsibility falls to us. If the clans grow restless, then let them. If the borders stir, then we will deal with it. The empire has stood for centuries—it will not crumble in a matter of weeks.”

His words carried weight, silencing the room. Yet beneath that silence, unease lingered. No one noticed the faint shudder that ran through the walls of the castle, as if something deep within had stirred.

The debate inside the hall was cut short when the great doors creaked open on their own. A wave of cold wind swept through, snuffing out half the lanterns in an instant.

Everyone froze.

From the shadows, a figure stepped forward, cloaked in black mist that clung to its body like living chains. The air grew heavy, each breath harder to take, and the temperature dropped as though winter had forced its way inside.

The figure’s voice echoed through the chamber, low and filled with power.

“Wuhan will no longer be your emperor…”

Shock rippled across the room. Ministers, elders, and generals shot to their feet, outrage and confusion flooding the hall.

“Who dares speak such madness? Reveal yourself!”

“Do you think the royal court will kneel to a ghost?”

“Where is His Majesty?”

Their questions poured out one after another, but the figure only laughed, the sound scraping against their ears like steel against stone.

Then, without warning, an invisible weight slammed down on the hall.

Crack!

The marble tiles beneath their feet split as the pressure intensified. Dozens of ministers fell to their knees, their faces pale, their bodies trembling. Even the seasoned cultivators among them gritted their teeth, sweat rolling down their foreheads as they struggled to withstand it.

It was stronger than Wuhan’s presence. Deeper, heavier, suffocating.

The figure raised its head, those red eyes glowing like twin embers.

“You ask who I am?” it whispered, each word rumbling through their bones. “Even your ancestors are not worthy to know my name. Now, I will give you a simple choice…”

“Submit to me or… die!”