“Your subordinate obeys!” Aemon kowtowed thrice, as if he had been granted a pardon and quickly
scurried out of the room.
Just as Aemon was about to make his exit, Morgana suddenly called out, “Stop!”
Aemon’s back went cold and he swiftly turned around, trembling as he inquired, “M… My Lord… do
you have any further commands?”
Morgana asked him, “How are the Three Elders?”
Relieved that Morgana was not pursuing the matter further, Aemon replied, bowing respectfully, “My
Lord, the Three Elders are currently waiting in the secret hall.”
Morgana furrowed her brow and asked, “When I ordered their return, did you notice any changes in
their demeanor?”
“This…” Aemon Mirren hesitated for a moment before respectfully answering, “Master, when you
ordered their return, the Three Elders appeared somewhat displeased.”
“Displeased?” Morgana sneered and calmly said, “These three individuals are dissatisfied because I
disturbed their seclusion. It seems that human nature works that way. Offer someone a bowl of rice and
they may not show much gratitude. Take away half of their meal and they will hate you instead.”
Aemon cautiously asked, “My Lord, what do you think should be done?”
Morgana responded indifferently, “Rewards! Naturally, they should be rewarded! When you lead troops
into battle, they should be rewarded for victory, rewarded for their exhaustion and rewarded for their
fruitless efforts. However, the rewards will come later. Let them wait and allow them to complain
silently. Rewarding them outright will make them feel entitled. It’s better to let them contemplate their
previous complaints and feel a sense of shame when the time is right.”
Aemon was perplexed but could only offer flattery, saying, “The Lord is wise and I am inferior in
comparison.”
Morgana, recognizing the flattery for what it was, waved her hand impatiently. “Very well, go and
prepare a place for them to stay. You shall accompany them for a few days and we shall discuss the
rest upon my return.”
Aemon didn’t hesitate and quickly responded, “Your subordinate obeys!”
After Aemon departed, Morgana paced toward a wall in the main hall where a world map was projected
using laser technology.
The main hall had a ceiling height of over six meters and a colossal world map, measuring six meters
in height and twelve meters in width, was projected onto the entire wall. Her gaze fixed on Myanmar on
the map, then shifted to the neighboring southern province and finally traveled to the Dian Mountains,
thousands of miles away from the southern province. Her thoughts drifted away. She thought of her old
friend and then her Master.
The portrait of her Master being used to warn her by someone else today made her whisper to herself,
“Master, it seems you underestimated me and my brother. When you left, both of us were by your side,
yet you never revealed the secret of longevity to us. After more than three hundred years since your
passing, I had to learn the details of the secret from others. Am I, Morgana, truly unworthy of your
attention?”
With that thought, Morgana’s mind instantly traveled back to 1650, more than three hundred years ago.
In the vast Dian Mountains lay a forbidden place rarely visited by people.
For hundreds of miles, no residents dared to settle there. The reason being that for hundreds of years,
an unfathomable miasma had plagued the area. No matter where one ventured, they would end up on
the outskirts of the miasma. Inhaling it would result in months of excruciating headaches, nausea and
unbearable pain. Some desperate souls, driven by curiosity, ventured into the heart of the miasma, only
to meet their demise. Over time, the local mountain folk came to revere this place as an absolute
forbidden zone.
However, they were unaware that the epicenter of the miasma was none other than the cave where
Morvel Bazin secluded himself for cultivation. The miasma was merely a formation he had set up to
shield mortals from the troubles within.
With unwavering determination, he pursued the path to longevity, residing in these mountains alone for
centuries.
When Morgana and Lucius Clark were pursued by the invading army into the mountains, they found
themselves with nowhere to turn, plunging into the endless miasma.
Had the invading army not set fire to the mountain, infuriating Morvel Bazin, he would never have
coincidentally saved the two of them. It was through this rescue that Morvel Bazin learned of the
sudden changes in the outside world, with the Han dynasty being overthrown by the Jurchens.
Hence, he accepted Morgana and Lucius Clark as his disciples, imparting his skills and allowing them
to continue the fight against the invading rebels. As for himself, he could not abandon his pursuit of
longevity and continued to endure rigorous cultivation within the Mountains.
At that moment, Morgana’s thoughts jumped to 1662.
During that time, her sole focus was on joining her friend, who was like her older brother, Lucius Clark,
in dedicating herself to the cause, even at the cost of her life.
Together, they attempted to assassinate William Saint. However, they had not anticipated the
formidable individuals and capable strangers he had gathered. The assassination failed and nearly all
the righteous men who had participated in the operation were slain. But she and her brother fought to
the death, carving a bloody path for themselves.
Following the operation’s failure, both of them were filled with despair. The region was on the brink of
collapse and the mainland lacked a main force to resist the Warriors Den. In desperation, Lucius Clark
proposed that they seek refuge in Taiwan.
The two struggled to escape the invading army’s encirclement in the southern province. Sadly, fate did
not favor their aspirations. Before they could complete even half of their journey, news of the Emperor’s
sudden death reached the mainland.
At that time, the rebels reveled in nationwide celebration.
Overwhelmed by disappointment, both Morgana and Lucius Clark were disheartened.
They realized their limitations in terms of military might. Additionally, the rebel army pursued them
relentlessly. Left with no choice, the two returned to the mountain to seek refuge with Morvel Bazin
once more. But little did they know that Morvel Bazin was nearing his end during that period.
Recalling these events, Morgana fast-forwarded to the spring of 1663.
The scene from that year reemerged vividly in her mind. She and her brother were meditating when
Morvel Bazin, with his brows and beard already white, approached them with a stooped figure. He
calmly said, “Lucius, Morgana, come with me.”
Although they sensed their Master’s fatigue that day, they failed to notice anything amiss. Hence, the
two followed Morvel Bazin into his stone chamber.
Morvel Bazin pointed to two cushions in front of him and instructed them, “Sit!”
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