The Confucian School fell due to their insistence on adhering to the old ways. Thus, the Daoist Order used this as a learning example and made many changes, like replacing rigid social hierarchies with equality and emphasizing the expansion of resources before cutting expenditures. Expanding resources essentially meant development, which was divided into two aspects—material and intellectual. One could not work behind closed doors nor remain in a stagnant pool. There had to be movement, like flowing water. Outsiders had to come in, and those inside had to go out. This was not just about the movement of people or money, but more importantly, the flow of ideas and concepts. Since the time of the Holy Xuan, the Daoist Order had advocated unbinding one’s thoughts from the heavy restraints imposed by the Confucians for centuries past. However, a problem arose. How could a man whose hands and feet were bound possibly untie his own ropes? In most cases, new thoughts could not develop on their own. That was why an exchange was needed. When someone brought in new ideas from the outside, they could mesh them with existing ones—this was progress. The exchange of ideas was not about who was superior or inferior, but about choosing to follow better ones and correcting what was flawed. During the tenure of the fourth-generation Grand Master, such collisions of thought, even if intense or excessive, remained within the bounds of discussion and brought more benefit than harm. Even if people’s opinions differed, they should still be exchanged and debated in a peaceful manner. Though this tendency regressed under the fifth-generation Grand Master, it returned to its original path by the sixth-generation Grand Master’s tenure. Thus, the Daoist Order developed the concept of Western studies to refrain from arrogant self-importance. They wanted to study the strengths and virtues of the West and heed the warnings from its flaws. Like the Confucian saying, among three who walked together, one could always be the other’s teacher. This meant that one must not be ashamed to ask and learn. The Daoists did not turn a blind eye to the West’s strengths simply because the latter had many flaws. Nor did they imagine the West to be the best simply because of their many merits. The West must be viewed dialectically. One must be skilled at learning, especially from one’s enemies. Thus, Western studies flourished, which brought many changes to the Central Plains. These changes included adjustments in calendrical systems and the improvement of ironclad warships. Undoubtedly, it spurred both development in the Central Plains and greater exchange among the East and West, but it also allowed the Holy Court to catch a glimpse of the Eastern world. Sensing Daoist Order’s strength, the Holy Court no longer bellowed for blood as it once had with smaller nations. Instead, Westerners came to the East in the guise of a friend. This did not mean they harbored no ambitions. On the contrary, the Holy Court had been making small moves in secret for years. However, the Daoist Order was no pushover. They retaliated in kind, giving the Holy Court endless trouble in the New World. The great waves of independence uprisings in the New World were backed by the Daoist Order. Thus, the situation evolved into one where both sides were entangled in mutual influence. The Holy Court could extend its hand into the East, just as the Daoist Order could extend its hand into the West. In such circumstances, the doctrines of the Holy Court spread in a limited fashion within the East. It had not taken root, but it could serve as an anchor point or a coordinate. This laid the groundwork for the convergence of divine kingdoms. After all, one ship would find it difficult to blindly locate another in the vast sea. But with an anchor point or coordinate, the task became far easier. In the real world, the two behemoths could still demarcate boundaries and set rules on what was or was not permitted. But in a realm for the Immortals, such distinctions were nearly impossible. It was like the beginning of the Age of Exploration. There were virtually no rules on the endless seas, only that the strong overpowered the weak. When the Holy Court’s divine kingdom drew near and began to sail alongside Izanagi’s, a colossal figure appeared above the temple that enshrined the goddess’s sacred image. This figure resembled two enormous rings intersecting to form an “X.” Each ring was covered with eyes, every eye larger than a grown man. The two massive rings spun—one rapidly, the other slowly—and the countless eyes upon them blinked ceaselessly, glowing and dimming in turn. At the very center where the two rings intersected was an even greater eye, nearly as large as Izanagi’s head. Its pupil turned slowly, as though scrutinizing everything around it. This was an Apostle of the Holy Court, a messenger of the Supreme Will. During East-West exchanges, Western missionaries sought to make the concept of Apostles easier for Eastern commoners to understand, translating it into the local context as envoys of the Son of Heaven. Even though the Daoist Order had abolished the concept of the Son of Heaven, the term was equivalent to the emperor’s envoy. The missionaries also translated the Supreme Will as the Heavenly Emperor, which created even greater misunderstandings. As exchanges deepened, the Daoist Order strictly forbade such mistranslations. The Heavenly Emperor was not to be equated with the Supreme Will. There could be no confusion whatsoever. Moreover, the Daoist Order emphasized that the mortal realm must be centered on humans. Thus, they banned all customs of reverence, like addressing a deity as “He” with divine honorifics, which were common in the Holy Court. Get full chapters from 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩 The common people mistakenly believed the Apostles were humanoid beings with wings, but that was not the case. That image was merely one crafted by the Holy Court to aid in preaching, or the form the Apostles assumed after transforming into their human forms, much like how the Great Yokai could take on human forms. For instance, Tamamo-no-Mae’s human form was that of a stunningly beautiful woman, yet her true appearance was a white-faced, golden-furred nine-tailed fox, as large as a hill. The true appearance of an Apostle was utterly terrifying, beyond the realm of mortal comprehension—an indescribable god. The white-faced, golden-furred nine-tailed fox still belonged within the category of foxes. Even the mythical beasts recorded in The Classic of Mountains and Seas retained basic animal traits, at most combining human and beastly features. However, the Apostle’s form bore no resemblance to either human or beast. Just this form was enough to fill anyone who saw it with overwhelming terror. To look upon it any longer might drive one completely insane. Thus, there was a saying within the Holy Court that one must not gaze directly upon God. For this reason, the Holy Scriptures recorded that the first words an angel spoke upon meeting a mortal were always, “Fear not, child, I am the messenger of God.” Naturally, Sage Qingwei felt no fear, nor did he lose control or descend into madness. He immediately recognized who this god was. It was none other than Taurinus, one of the Holy Court’s Three Great Apostles. The Apostles were divided into three ranks—Holy, Son, and Spirit. The Three Great Apostles were of the Holy rank, equivalent to the paragon of Daoist Immortals. Below them was the Son rank, corresponding to the Daoist Pseudo-Immortals. The lowest tier was the Spirit rank, akin to the Daoist Zaohua-stage Heavenly Beings. With so many eyes and a massive eye, Taurinus naturally noticed Sage Qingwei’s presence. Thus, Taurinus did not rashly invade Izanagi’s Divine Kingdom, nor did he descend into the mortal realm. He merely observed from afar, across the boundary of the two divine kingdoms. Had Taurinus descended to the mortal realm, it would have undoubtedly crossed the Daoist Order’s red line, perhaps igniting a second great war between the Daoist Order and the Holy Court. The Daoist Order might even escalate its support for the New World. Either way, the Holy Court’s position in the New World would have gone from dire to disastrous. The key lay in providing grounds for accusation. The Holy Court might not care much about legitimacy, but the Daoist Order did. If the Holy Court were to initiate hostilities, the Daoist Order’s internal factions would swiftly unite under one banner. The strength that the Daoist Order could mobilize in retaliation far exceeded what it could muster in a preemptive strike. Should the Holy Court hand them such justification to retaliate, the situation in Western Shakya would grow perilous. Taurinus’s descent would count as an invasion, triggering Izanagi’s divine kingdom to retaliate. This reaction was not under Izanagi’s control but was an automatic defense of the divine kingdom itself. Unless Izanagi could remold his golden body and reassert dominion, the reaction could not be stopped. If matters dragged on too long, even greater complications would arise. Sage Qingwei remained calm because he had foreseen it. That was why he had brought along five Longevity-stage Immortals. Even if Taurinus and Izanagi joined forces, they could not overturn the battle’s outcome. Taurinus understood this perfectly well, knowing he could not linger long, lest he put himself in danger. Thus, Taurinus merely transmitted an object into Izanagi’s divine kingdom and quickly faded away. This situation was akin to the Daoists having already boarded Izanagi’s ship and locked in hand-to-hand combat upon its deck. At that moment, the Holy Court’s ship sailed swiftly alongside. If the Holy Court’s vessel rashly attempted to board as well, their crew might not save Izanagi. Worse still, they might give the Daoists the chance to storm the Holy Court’s ship, bringing disaster upon themselves. Thus, the Holy Court’s ship did not engage and merely tossed a package onto Izanagi’s ship before quickly pulling away, sailing off without giving the Daoists a chance to fault them. This so-called “package” was a book with a pitch-black cover. Unlike the thread-bound books of the Central Plains, it was in a distinctly Western style. A grinning skull and a dark sun were painted on its cover, set against twisted patterns symbolizing torment and chaos. Golden hinges and clasps adorned it, secured by a sturdy lock of solid metal. The moment Taurinus sent out the book, he had unfastened the golden hinges and unlocked the clasps. Without a doubt, the hinges, clasps, and lock were seals upon the book. Taurinus, harboring malicious intent, had deliberately undone them. The book opened, and the pages rustled noisily. These pages were crafted from flayed human skin, taken from failed scribes of the past. They were decorated with strange beast-shaped patterns in gold leaf, and the writing was penned in scarlet ink, like blood, which ceaselessly radiated an eerie green glow that pulsed violently along the spine of the book. In that moment, Sage Qingwei felt his heart pump rapidly, not from excitement but from an immense threat.