Chapter 912: Huangpao Coronation

Chen Ling looked at Jiang Xiaohua, who was trying to give up at a critical moment, and was momentarily speechless.

"Are you really not going?"

"...I guess not." Jiang Xiaohua looked down at her battered body, reluctance in her eyes, but she seemed too embarrassed to flatly refuse. "I want to rest a bit, by myself."

Seeing this, Chen Ling didn't press the matter. After all, Jiang Xiaohua had already done so much along the way, and he had no reason to drag her into more danger.

"Alright, then you rest here."

Jiang Xiaohua finally managed a faint smile. She relaxed completely, picked a ready-made pit nearby, and lay down, as if intending to bury herself alive again.

Just as Chen Ling was about to leave, Jiang Xiaohua's voice suddenly came from behind him:

"Wait."

Chen Ling turned around to see Jiang Xiaohua, as if remembering something, take off the imperial robe she was wearing and throw it to him.

"What are you doing?" Chen Ling asked, puzzled.

"It's uncomfortable to wear clothes in the dirt. Here, take it back."

Jiang Xiaohua thought for a moment, then added, "Besides, I feel... it would suit you better."

Chen Ling glanced at the imperial robe in his hand, then at the path of ascension leading to the heavens. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed, stepped onto the stairs, and casually draped the robe over himself.

*Whoosh—*

A gentle breeze blew from the end of the path of ascension. The gilded imperial robe seemed to be lifted by unseen hands, settling automatically over the vermilion opera robe. Gold and red, layered, their hems swayed silently in the wind.

The moment Chen Ling put it on, the subtle imperial aura around him intensified, as if layered with a halo...

Chen Ling looked down at his hands, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

First, Jian Changsheng bestowed titles upon him with words, then Jiang Xiaohua literally "bestowed the yellow robe" on him. As Chen Ling traversed the Ancient Imperial Dao Tomb, fate seemed to push him toward becoming "Emperor." This subtle feeling grew even stronger the moment he donned the imperial robe and stepped onto the path of ascension.

"What... is driving me?"

Chen Ling pondered for a moment, then, as if guessing something, looked up at the void above.

That was beyond "Flying Dragon in the Sky," a place higher than where the lingering thoughts of emperors resided. There was no physical form there, only an ethereal will... It was the very foundation of the Ancient Imperial Dao Tomb.

"...Is that you?" Chen Ling murmured to himself.

Why would the foundation of the Ancient Imperial Dao Tomb not help the lingering thoughts of past emperors, but instead choose to help him, someone who had "stolen" the imperial destiny?

Chen Ling thought for a long time but couldn't figure out the logic. However, given the situation, the reason was no longer important.

He took a deep breath and ascended the stairs of ascension step by step. With each step, he felt a power resonating with his imperial destiny, and the higher he went, the stronger this resonance became!

A faint imperial aura wafted from the stairs, surrounding Chen Ling like a golden mist, like the newborn sun;

The actor, draped in the imperial robe, slowly ascended to the heavens.

"Huh?"

Midway up the path of ascension, among the last group of "proto-emperors" to embark on the journey, the few stragglers looked back in confusion.

"Is it just my imagination? Why do I feel the stairs below are shaking?"

"No way, we should be the last group to ascend. There shouldn't be anyone behind us..."

"There's not much time left. Wu Qiong and the others must be almost at the top. Let's hurry up!"

"Push harder! Go faster!!"

Everyone quickened their pace, climbing towards the end of the sky. They didn't know how many steps they had already climbed; their bodies were drenched in sweat, and they were nearing their limit.

The higher they climbed, the more bodies, steeped in blood, gradually entered their view.

The group couldn't tell which team these bodies belonged to; it seemed like there were members from every team. Some had ferocious expressions, as if they had just been through a brutal fight; others looked desperate, as if they had long given up resistance; still others wore expressions of shock, as if they had suffered betrayal and attack.

The higher they went, the more their hearts sank. They didn't know what was happening above, but there was no doubt that the teams ahead had gradually abandoned mercy and their own selves; they had gone mad with killing.

They carefully skirted around the corpses, their soles already stained with blood. A deep fear lingered in everyone's heart.

"After we go up... will we also be killed like this?"

"It's terrifying, they've truly gone mad!"

"No... I don't want to go up anymore. I'll just go down and hide. I don't want to kill anyone."

"Anyway, we're the last ones, so there's still a chance to retreat."

"That's true, then..."

*Thud—*

Before one of them could finish speaking, a sword blade pierced through his chest, splashing blood onto the faces of the remaining few.

Everyone froze, watching helplessly as the person, his heart pierced, collapsed weakly to the ground. Behind him, the "proto-emperor" they had been following had bloodshot eyes, gripping the sword hilt, and spoke fiercely:

"We are already the last ones. At this crucial moment, if anyone dares to become a deserter, I will kill them!!"

A king must remember: a divided heart cannot achieve great things. If there is no pursuit of gain, then fear must be used to unite hearts.

The followers stared blankly at the scene before them, feeling as though this "proto-emperor" was a stranger. Yet, under the oppressive imperial might, they dared not disobey, so they could only step over their comrade's corpse and silently continue ascending.

Seeing this, the "proto-emperor's" expression finally softened. But just as he turned and took a few steps up, his brow furrowed again...

A distinct vibration came from beneath their feet, as if a colossal beast was heavily treading the steps below, approaching them.

Everyone couldn't help but look back. At the end of the long stretch of stairs, a figure in an opera robe layered with an imperial robe, like a brilliant sun, was approaching them step by step...

"That's..."

"The Actor Emperor?!!"

"How is he here again at this time?!"

Gasps of alarm rippled through the crowd. The followers' faces were terribly pale; the terrifying pressure the man had exerted in the snowfield still lingered in their minds like a nightmare.

Fear made their bodies tremble uncontrollably. Several individuals could no longer climb the stairs and instead slumped to the ground.

The "proto-emperor," who had just managed to stabilize the situation, glared angrily, gripping his long sword as he roared:

"What are you afraid of?! I am also a 'King' now! As long as we stand united, we might not have to fear him!"

Seeing this, the slumped individuals gritted their teeth and stumbled to their feet. Under the "proto-emperor's" command, they picked up their weapons and aimed them downwards at Chen Ling, forming a wall.

His voice traveled down the long staircase and reached Chen Ling's ears. Chen Ling slowly raised his eyelids and glanced upwards...