Back in the capital, Li Shimin wasted no time. His first command was absolute:

"All unauthorized temples—wild gods, household idols, local shrines—they are to be demolished immediately. Not one is to remain."

He stood atop the stairs of Daxing Temple, his voice booming.

"My god is the only true faith. The rest are false—frauds!"

The practitioners of meditation and inner cultivation nodded in unison. To them, it made sense. If the so-called ’immortal Buddhas’ truly existed, why had they never shown themselves? Why hadn’t they descended, like the Eternal God had?

One of his generals leaned in and asked cautiously, "My Lord, what about Cihang Jingzhai?"

The once-arrogant martial artists who had followed Shi Feixuan were now meek, silent, and utterly humbled. Their submissive posture pleased Li Shimin. These were the same people who had defied him before, who made him personally come to greet them at the city gates—an outrageous act of disrespect.

But now? Now that he had become a divine envoy—blessed with a thousand-year cultivation base and a lifespan extending ten thousand years—they had all folded like paper before him.

He paused, then spoke with cold authority, "Make an announcement. Tell Fan Qinghui that Shi Feixuan has ascended to the heavens to serve the Eternal God. From this day forth, they must either convert... or tear down their temple."

The messenger bowed deeply. "As you command, my lord. The Eternal God is the only true deity—those Buddhas and Immortals are nothing but illusions!"

And it wasn’t just the disciples of Cihang Jingzhai. Even monks from the Jingnian Zen Sect had gathered—curious, skeptical, but unable to deny what they had witnessed.

Today, they had seen the divine with their own eyes. And that changed everything.

One monk muttered, "We’ve studied scriptures for decades, chanted day and night... and yet, never once has the Buddha revealed himself to us."

Another disciple—Le Kong’s own student—ripped off his monk’s robe, tossed it to the ground, and shouted, "I’m done! This was all a lie! Now that I’ve seen the true god, I beg you, envoy—teach me divine magic!"

He dropped to his knees before Li Shimin, reverent and sincere.

The sight moved the crowd. One by one, the others followed suit—kneeling in unison.

Li Shimin chuckled and lifted the man to his feet. "It’s not too late to turn back. From today, we shall spread the faith of the Eternal God. Through discipline and devotion, anyone can cultivate this sacred path."

The officials watching below exchanged glances. These were seasoned men—schemers, nobles, generals. But even they understood what was happening.

In perfect harmony, they declared, "Please, Lord Envoy, grant us the sacred method. We too wish to follow the true faith."

After all, who didn’t want to become immortal? Who wouldn’t want a place in the divine realm? Even if they couldn’t become gods here in the Central Plains—there were other nations, other lands to spread the faith to.

One general stepped forward and knelt. "My Lord, we are ready to march on Goryeo. Just give the word, and we’ll handle the Turks next."

Li Shimin raised a hand. "No need to rush. First, we’ll transform the people of this city. Let them witness the power of the Eternal God. Only then will we move forward."

Faith could not be forced. It had to grow—slowly, steadily, like a tide rising across the land.

To ensure his message struck fear and awe, Li Shimin personally passed on divine teachings to the envoys he sent out. These chosen few would carry the light of faith and the power of miracles—spreading strength and harvesting devotion wherever they went.

The foundation of a new divine empire had been laid.

———

In the celestial expanse known as the Domain of the Gods, the two women were gently lifted by a formless, glowing force—like the palm of a divine hand. The energy wrapped around them like warm silk, guiding them through the clouds toward a palace in the heavens.

They floated in silence, awe consuming every part of them.

Even Shi Feixuan—once a proud cultivator who considered herself an untouchable fairy—could say nothing in the face of such divine wonder. Her normally serene expression was replaced by a subtle tension, the kind only born from disbelief and reverence.

Her restrained awe... made her look even more beautiful.

Then, a voice thundered from the skies above—calm, yet absolute.

"Your bodies have been reshaped by divine power. With your new strength—Seventh Rank—you can now fly on cloud and mist. Simply will it, and you shall ascend.

I await you in Ziwei Palace."

The voice wasn’t heard so much as felt—a vibration through the very fabric of their beings.

The two women exchanged a glance.

Awkwardly at first, they reached inward to the newfound power coursing through them. And then—like something out of a dream—a misty cloud formed beneath their feet, lifting them skyward.

"We... we’re really flying?" Shi Feixuan gasped, the wind brushing past her face as she gently rose.

She floated effortlessly, her robes trailing like divine silk. This wasn’t like using sword light to ride through the air—it wasn’t forceful or draining. It was effortless. Natural.

No... this wasn’t immortality.

This was godhood.

A light smile touched her lips as she rose higher and higher, watching the miles fall beneath her like petals in the wind.

All those years of bitter sword cultivation suddenly felt... trivial.

The teachings of mortals are fragile illusions.

Gods... cannot be understood by mortals. They exist on a plane far beyond.

After soaring together across the divine sky, the two finally arrived at the gates of Ziwei Palace, guided by the invisible map etched into their minds.

There, seated casually upon a silver throne that shimmered with cosmic light, was a man whose beauty defied logic.

Young in appearance, and yet carrying a presence that could crush mountains. His eyes shimmered like galaxies. His smile—calm, amused—welcomed them.

"Surprised?" he asked gently. "Gods aren’t giants. We appear as you do. It’s simply that your world... compared to mine... is no more than an egg. Naturally, I seem enormous."

The women instinctively descended, landing before him with grace. Their knees touched the polished stardust floor as they bowed with reverence.

This man... Lucian Carter, the Eternal God.

He reached out, gently tilting Shi Feixuan’s chin with his fingers. Her breath hitched slightly as her cheeks flushed red. She lowered her gaze, a mix of shame and anticipation flickering in her eyes.

"From today onward," Lucian said softly, "you are to be my handmaidens. The palace is empty for now—just the three of us. Choose your chambers in the western wing.

But first... accompany me. It’s time for a divine bath."

"As you command, Eternal God," they replied in unison, voices low and obedient.

They followed him deeper into the palace, where the bathing hall unfolded before them like a dreamscape from the stars.

A vast pool rippled with shimmering liquid—each drop like a condensed star, glowing with celestial light. The air was filled with a quiet hum, as though the universe itself whispered here.

They paused at the edge of the bath, stunned.

"This is Starwater," Lucian explained. "It’s made from the essence of a shattered planet—refined for divine use. Bathe in it, and your newly awakened divinity will stabilize.

Let the stars embrace you."

The women turned to each other, speechless.

With slow, reverent motions, they reached for the clasps of their divine robes.

One after another, the soft fabrics fell, revealing skin now flawless and radiant with faint celestial light—an aura granted only to those touched by divine hands.

They stepped into the water, gasping softly as the star-filled liquid kissed their bodies. It wasn’t warm or cold. It was... cosmic. Eternal.

Their old selves had already faded.

And now, they would be reborn.