Chapter 283: Lives as Tribute

Yu Feng noticed wagon after wagon heading toward the blood-colored hall—the residence of the Blood River Ancestor. The wheel ruts sank deep into the ground, and the horses were struggling to move, showing that the wagons were carrying extremely heavy cargo.

The Blood River Ancestor was one of the main forces behind the founding of the Immortal Dynasty. He was responsible for finding cultivators and handling external affairs.

“We pay respects to the Blood River Ancestor. May your power be boundless and your life everlasting!”

Mortal emperors gathered there, completely lacking the natural dignity and aura they usually exuded in their own courts. They knelt and kowtowed before the Blood River Ancestor.

Now that all cultivator factions of the Tongu Continent had been unified under the Immortal Dynasty, the backing these kings once relied on had abandoned them and come here instead.

If they wanted to maintain their footing on the continent, they had to show loyalty and cling to the thickest thigh they could find.

They had come to offer tribute.

Not by sending envoys, but by showing up themselves—each one a monarch of their nation—pleading to establish diplomatic ties and become a vassal state of the Immortal Dynasty.

It was easy to predict that the continent would soon form a celestial court pattern, with hundreds or thousands of mortal kingdoms worshipping the Immortal Dynasty as their center.

The emperors of the mortal world carefully handed their tribute lists to a child attendant, who then passed them on to the Blood River Ancestor.

But the ancestor didn’t need to look at any list. One sweep of his divine sense and he could see everything loaded in the wagons: gold, pearls, agate, antiques, calligraphy, paintings… Not a single spirit stone.

These were all common goods—valuable to mortals, but nearly worthless to cultivators.

And they couldn’t possibly have anything of true value. Anything remotely cultivation-related would’ve long been seized by the cultivator factions within their own borders.

The emperors figured the gesture was what counted. They had nothing that could truly catch a cultivator’s eye anyway.

The Blood River Ancestor accepted the list, and the emperors felt a surge of relief—thinking the deal was sealed.

But then the Blood River Ancestor spoke: “These worthless trinkets I’ll accept. But you must also offer a certain number of mortals as tribute.”

“For example, Xuanji Kingdom is considered a major nation. You shall provide one hundred thousand mortals annually. As for the others, someone will inform you of your quotas.”

The King of Xuanji was stunned. A hundred thousand people per year—wasn’t that excessive? Where would they find that many on such short notice? Who would be selected?

“But this isn’t urgent,” the ancestor continued. “We won’t need the lives of mortals just yet. Even if you brought them now, you’d have to provide food—it’s a hassle. For now, just be aware of it and start preparing. Deliver them before the founding ceremony.”

The mortal emperors sighed in relief—at least they had time.

Then the Blood River Ancestor shot a glance at the King of Xuanji and added, “Xuanji Kingdom shall set the example. Prepare and send one hundred thousand people now. No mistakes allowed.”

The king had no idea why he was singled out, but he didn’t dare question it. He just kowtowed and thanked the ancestor for his ‘mercy.’

The Blood River Ancestor held no affection for Xuanji. His own useless descendant had died there, and it had led to a battle in space with Old Master Poison.

Someone of his status wouldn’t stoop to vendettas over such things—but he also didn’t want to make it easy on Xuanji either. This was a petty jab.

He happened to be in the mood for a slaughter anyway. Ten thousand deaths would be a decent appetizer.

After leaving the hall, as the attendant informed the kings about the required number of mortals, they quickly asked if the quota could be reduced.

The attendant sneered, mocking their ignorance. “Do you have any idea how much is needed to found an Immortal Dynasty? The national-protection formation, the no-flight formation… all of them require mortal blood sacrifices to keep running. Want to reduce the number? How about using your own heads to fuel the array?”

The King of Xuanji braved a question: “Couldn’t we use spirit stones or spiritual energy instead?”

“How can the lives of mortals be compared to spirit stones? Besides, the Heavenly Lord is compassionate and embraces both righteous and demonic cultivators. He still needs to provide training materials for the demonic ones.”

“Materials,” of course, meant human lives.

Once they heard this was the Heavenly Lord’s decree, the mortal emperors didn’t dare argue again.

They treated cultivators as gods, and cultivators revered the Heavenly Lord as a divine being. The gap was too vast—they didn’t even qualify to meet him.

“If low-level cultivators can’t be used as materials, then we must settle for mortals,” the attendant said casually.

The emperors were horrified. This was outright murder in broad daylight.

“Besides, is it really that hard for each kingdom to provide tens of thousands of people? Don’t you mortals suffer famines every year? So many die of starvation—send them to the Immortal Dynasty before they starve. Isn’t that better?” The attendant spoke as if it were a perfectly logical solution.

Jiang Li, observing with his divine sense, frowned.

Famine didn’t exist in the Nine Provinces. Famines were caused by droughts and floods, but cultivators there used their powers to regulate rain and rivers—creating man-made favorable conditions. There was never a shortage of food.

But in the Tongu World, cultivators were aloof and wouldn’t lift a finger for mortals.

As a result, the Tongu World’s population density was far lower than that of the Nine Provinces.

…

“Junior Brother, did you say the ancestor ordered Xuanji Kingdom to send one hundred thousand people, and immediately?” Ma Pingfan confirmed with the attendant, realizing this was an opportunity to earn favor.

The ancestor wanted to make things hard for Xuanji and wanted to kill. That meant Ma Pingfan could pile on and make life miserable for the king—he could even suggest that they select healthy, lively, rebellious folks for sacrifice. That way, the ancestor would get more satisfaction from the kill.

Once the idea struck, he acted at once.

“Yu Feng, Senior Sister Wu Lian, good news!” Ma Pingfan found them like he was bestowing a grand gift.

“Out of respect for our shared master, I’m giving you a chance to impress the Blood River Ancestor.”

“What?” Wu Lian didn’t believe for a second anything good would come out of Ma Pingfan’s mouth.

“Take you two to Xuanji Kingdom to help select one hundred thousand slave offerings for the Blood River Ancestor.”

Yu Feng figured Ma Pingfan might be setting something up for his senior sister, but definitely not for him.

With all his experience with death, Yu Feng was certain: Ma Pingfan wanted to kill him.

And he was never wrong about that feeling.

He wasn’t wrong now—Ma Pingfan truly intended to kill him.

He had struck this kid once before; maybe Yu Feng bore a grudge. Plus, Yu Feng was a genius—those two reasons were enough for Ma Pingfan to go for the kill.

Anything that might become a threat, he liked to eliminate early, before it had the chance to grow.

But the Heavenly Lord placed great importance on the quantity and quality of cultivators. If Ma Pingfan killed Yu Feng openly, he might attract attention—and that would be a problem.

To play it safe, he planned to lure Yu Feng outside the Immortal Dynasty and kill him in secret, making it look like an accident.

Yu Feng thought he was truly cursed—he hadn’t done a thing, and yet a Soul Formation cultivator already had his eye on him.

And besides, what kind of genius was he really? He’d only formed a top-grade Golden Core at eighteen thanks to Senior Jiang’s guidance—and the careful teaching of countless Soul Formation seniors.

He was just a good student, nothing more.

Wu Lian didn’t like this task at all.

“Human slaves” and “Blood River Ancestor”—no good could come from combining those two terms.

But Ma Pingfan didn’t care what they thought. Without giving them a choice, he grabbed them both and flew straight toward Xuanji Kingdom.