Eternal Life through Drawing Lots

With the conquest of the Dongfang Race’s northern territory, the Battle Merit Rankings had changed once again.

While the top one hundred names rarely moved, the rest of the rankings had undergone a complete reshuffle!

On this day, the initial tally of battle merits was finalized, and the dust had settled.

Crowds gathered before the Merit Registry Camps, gazing at the rankings to find their names and check that their merits had been calculated correctly.

"Fang Yang... To think that name belongs to ’Proud Eagle’ Fang Yang. He earned another thirty great merits, vaulting him into the top five hundred!" This was Le Shiyu, standing elegantly on a set of bluestone steps, her gaze locked in stunned disbelief.

"I can’t believe Fang Yang regained momentum so quickly, surpassing my rank just like that." This was Hong Qishang, a bitter expression on his face.

Recently, Hong Qishang seemed to be plagued by bad luck, suffering one setback after another.

At this very moment, Hong Qishang was hesitating.

He was debating whether he should volunteer to become an honorary retainer of the White Feathered Eagle tribe and serve Fang Yang for a time. ’Maybe that would break this streak of bad luck.’

He suspected his misfortune was a consequence of having his own good fortune overshadowed—or even usurped—by Fang Yang’s.

"’Proud Eagle, you truly are the strongest. No one can dim your brilliant light. But I, Zhang Ye, am no slouch either!’ Zhang Ye’s gaze was resolute.

Though Zhang Ye hadn’t broken into the top five hundred of the Battle Merit Rankings, he had secured a spot in the top one thousand, surpassing both Lin Tianxue and Cyan Aura in the process!

Moreover, Zhang Ye was well aware that while Fang Yang seemed to be riding a wave of success, enjoying both fame and fortune, he was actually being held over the fire.

’It might be fine in the short term, but over a long period... if I redouble my efforts and push myself to the limit, it might not be impossible for me, Zhang Ye, to catch up to Fang Yang.’

’For prodigies like them, if Fang Yang continues down this path, it’s more like he’s being imprisoned in that study, forced to lie low and sheathe his claws.’

’Fang Yang really could become a prisoner of his own success!’

At the same time, Li Yang, Lin Tianxue, Cyan Aura, and all the others who had been defeated by Fang Yang stood as if carved from stone, utterly dumbfounded.

For the first time, they truly understood what their elders meant by the phrase "to dominate one’s generation."

No matter how hard they tried, how valiantly they fought, or how many merits they earned, in the end, their glory was still eclipsed by one person: Fang Yang.

Fang Yang didn’t have to do a thing. His mere presence was enough to outshine them all.

...

’Thirty great merits... that’s a bit more than I expected.’

Fang Yang scanned the Battle Merit Rankings, his eyes pausing on his own name.

He was surprised to see his contribution had been assessed at thirty great merits, as he had expected ten at most.

After all, Ji Juyun had only earned forty great merits for surviving a near-fatal ordeal.

Then, a realization dawned on him. This increase in merits was likely a bonus from Sen Yue to the leaders of the campaign.

After all, even Yuming and Lin Yaoguang, who hadn’t made any significant contributions, had received twenty great merits.

’But it would be difficult to get such a bonus again in the future.’

As for the change in his ranking, Fang Yang wasn’t particularly concerned.

Previously, thirty great merits would have been enough to place him in the top three hundred.

But now, as the war effort expanded, everyone was earning merits.

In other words, the competition had become even fiercer. Thirty great merits was no longer enough to be impressive among the top three hundred.

At the same time, Fang Yang knew his official promotion to a third-rank position was imminent—it would happen in the next few days.

Sure enough.

「The next morning.」

Fang Yang entered the inner city as usual.

He had just stepped out of his carriage when the acolyte Mingxin emerged from the palace, walking slowly. Mingxin beamed and said, "Your Excellency, congratulations! From now on, you are an [Order-Holder]."

With that, the acolyte Mingxin presented him with a Flying Bird White Jade Seal.

This was an Official Seal. Possessing it was proof that Fang Yang had truly become a third-rank official—an Order-Holder.

’Order-Holder... I hold the order...’ Fang Yang’s eyes grew pensive.

’Whose orders am I to hold?’

’Sen Yue? Sen Wei? Or... Sen Hui?’

「Elsewhere.」

Second Uncle Fang looked down from the carriage, his eyes fixed on the [Order-Holder] Official Seal, unable to look away.

"Ah Yang," Second Uncle Fang suddenly suggested, "in three days, it will be your Muri. I think we should hold a grand banquet that day to celebrate. What do you say?"

Second Uncle Fang wanted to host a grand banquet in three days at the White Feathered Eagle tribe’s residence.

He would invite the Fang Clan and their close allies to bolster Fang Yang’s prestige and use the opportunity to solidify his status!

"Yes, that’s fine." Fang Yang considered for a moment, then nodded in agreement. He felt that such an event would be a great boost to the White Feathered Eagle tribe’s morale.

A moment later, Fang Yang put the Official Seal away and stepped back into the study.

With no one to supervise him, he went of his own accord to the shelves on the eastern side of the study and began organizing the documents and official papers.

In truth, it was the kind of work that grew tedious over time, a true test of one’s mental fortitude.

It was especially torturous for a high-spirited prodigy who had achieved fame at such a young age.

Sometimes, even though he knew that these military directives and classified intelligence were invaluable resources, Fang Yang couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of frustration.

This was especially true since he had no one to talk to, no one to confide in.

But whenever this feeling arose, Fang Yang would push the frustration away, time and time again.

He saw it as a form of cultivation—a tempering of his state of mind.

As Fang Yang diligently buried himself in his work, the four Pavilion Elders—known as Flower, Bird, Fish, and Insect—observed him in silence.

Before long, they noticed that even after receiving his Official Seal, Fang Yang didn’t seem particularly happy.

This surprised them.

An ordinary young prodigy would not have acted like Fang Yang. They usually grew arrogant with success, or at the very least, visibly high-spirited.

But with Fang Yang’s current disposition, they concluded he was either indifferent to fame and fortune, or his ambitions were immense.

And it was quite obvious that Fang Yang was not a man indifferent to fame and fortune.

"Immense ambitions. In other words, he is a man of great aspiration."

"Yes. This Fang Yang is becoming more and more like Fang Nian. Is it the power of their bloodline?"

"He’s even more remarkable than Fang Nian. If nothing unexpected happens, Fang Yang could become a Saint. It’s not even out of the question that he could comprehend the Transformation of the Kun-Peng."

"The Transformation of the Kun-Peng... The Fang Clan’s original path was that of the Great Sun Golden Crow. But in the end, a great cataclysm forced them to change their ways."

"Heh. Our Sen Clan possesses the legacies of seven different paths to Sainthood. We are the main bloodline of the race."

"Not only that, but once Xiaohui achieves Sainthood, we will have eight such legacies. No matter how dire things get, we will never fall to the same sorry state as the Fang Clan. You worry too much."

As the four Pavilion Elders conversed, they continuously recorded their observations of Fang Yang, preparing to submit them for Sen Yue to judge.

In truth, the arrangement in the study—four old men and one young one—was not only awkward for Fang Yang at times; even the elders themselves occasionally felt ill at ease.

For as they were scrutinizing Fang Yang, he was, in turn, scrutinizing them.