Ever since all the eighth-rankers in this world announced their seclusion three years ago.
These Rank 7s had continuously strengthened their patrols for a time, yet they had not seen the Great Demon appear.
Or rather, the number of times demons appeared had instead dropped drastically.
This was not a good thing.
A visible crisis was easier to guard against.
Then, no one knew when it began.
A large number of cults and small organizations appeared across the land.
The Holy Fire Meow Meow Cult and the Slaughter Church were merely inconspicuous among those organizations.
Only a small portion of these organizations had gathered together voluntarily in pursuit of a better life.
More of them were driven by profit.
Some organizations even had Rank 7s behind them.
As always, the Rank 7s of this world had all gone mad from poverty.
No amount of money or resources was enough to pour into cultivation.
Making money was nothing shameful.
But ultimately, the reason there were so many organizations.
Was entirely because the Old Emperor had never sent anyone to deal with them.
The friction between humans and yokai, the struggle for the throne—those were what the Old Emperor truly cared about.
The Old Emperor sat on the throne with narrowed eyes. His mental state was growing worse and worse. "The two Zhongwen ministers, what exactly are you planning to do?"
There was neither blame nor interrogation in the Old Emperor's tone, as though he were merely asking whether they had eaten.
Yet the expressions of Zhong Wenyu and Zhongwen Daoji, both Rank 7s, were exceedingly ugly.
The assessment for the succession of the throne was currently underway, and yet a conflict destined to erupt had broken out at this time.
Who else was there to question if not them?
Ever since