When I Achieved Sainthood, the Immortal Official Actually Called Me to Raise Horses!

At dawn, sunlight broke through the lingering smoke that veiled the ruined imperial city. The streets were littered with corpses, broken walls stained with blood, and remnants of destruction everywhere.

Bai Sheng, covered in dust and dirt, stood atop the rubble, his wide eyes trembling as he took in the devastation surrounding him.

The once-prosperous city, which he had admired so much, had turned into a wasteland overnight. His gaze fell upon a shattered mask lying amidst the debris—the very mask worn by the sword-wielding Daoist he had seen performing the night before. Only half of it remained.

“How could this happen…?”

Bai Sheng muttered to himself, his voice shaking.

He felt as if he had fallen into a nightmare—one he couldn’t wake up from.

Lifting his head, he looked into the distance. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, desperately searching for Gu An. Along the way, he encountered lifeless bodies but forced himself to suppress his fear and nausea, flipping them over one by one in hopes of finding a familiar face.

The sun continued to rise, and by the time it reached its peak at noon, Bai Sheng had yet to find Gu An. His hands were covered in blood, his body exhausted.

Falling to his knees in the middle of the street, he no longer had the strength to lift his head.

He had searched for an entire morning. The initial terror had faded, replaced by numbness.

A shadow appeared before him. He saw a pair of shoes but lacked the strength to speak.

Su Jin looked down at Bai Sheng and sighed. “Didn’t you once say that instead of living an uneventful life, you would rather die at the hands of demons and monsters? Last night, you witnessed what most mortals never see in their lifetime—a great demon. Shouldn’t you be rejoicing?”

Bai Sheng lowered his head, his voice weak. “Are you… one of those demons too?”

“I am not so bloodthirsty,” Su Jin replied. “But I have killed. Both men and demons.”

Her response left Bai Sheng silent.

Su Jin continued, “Now that you’ve seen true power, come cultivate immortality with me.”

“…Help me…find…Brother Gu…”

Bai Sheng spoke with great difficulty, barely managing to utter the five words before he lost consciousness, his body collapsing forward.

Su Jin caught him just in time, a faint smile appearing on her lips. This was a moment she had imagined for ten thousand years. And now, it had finally come true.

“Rest assured, in this lifetime, I will protect you—just as you once gave your life to protect me.”

Su Jin murmured softly. Carrying Bai Sheng in her arms, she soared into the sky.

Her divine sense swept across the entire city, extending further outward in search.

“…Strange. Where could he have gone? Could he have been completely devoured by the demon?”

She muttered to herself in confusion. After searching thoroughly, she found no trace of Gu An. Shrugging it off, she decided it was no longer her concern.

Holding Bai Sheng close, Su Jin flew toward the distant horizon, disappearing within moments.

The dark clouds in the sky had finally dispersed, and the sun shone down on the ravaged city. Wisps of demonic energy lingered but were slowly fading away.

In the Wushi Dao Field, within a secluded courtyard, Gu An lay comfortably on a rocking chair, reading a book. Occasionally, he glanced at Shen Zhen, who was carefully controlling the Taiqing True Fire beneath a refining cauldron.

It had been ten years since he had parted ways with Bai Sheng.

Shen Zhen turned her head to look at him. “Gu An, what exactly is the Dao Court?” she asked. “Lately, their name has spread even within Qiankun Sect. People are saying they’ll soon become the ruling sect of the world.”

Gu An replied casually, “The Dao Court, like the Sacred Court, was once the dominant power of a great world. After the Great Thousand World was reshaped, they rose to prominence at an incredible speed. But of course, their rapid rise is thanks to a mysterious and powerful figure backing them from the shadows.”

“How strong is this person? Are they stronger than you?” Shen Zhen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gu An smirked. “I’ve never fought them, so I can’t say for sure.”

“Hah, hearing you say that means they’re probably no match for you.”

Shen Zhen rolled her eyes at him. Gu An could hear her inner thoughts—she secretly idolized his strength but refused to admit it aloud.

Flipping another page of his book, Gu An said, “But the Dao Court trying to unify the Heavenly Spirit Great World is still premature.”

“How far into the future can you see?” Shen Zhen asked curiously.

She had always been fascinated by Gu An’s cultivation but had never dared to ask directly. Now that she had an opportunity, she wasn’t going to let it slip by.

“Don’t ask. The secrets of heaven cannot be revealed.”

Gu An dismissed her question with a vague answer, turning his back to her.

Shen Zhen huffed but refocused on comprehending the Dao treasures inside the refining cauldron.

The courtyard fell into a peaceful silence, with only the occasional sound of wind passing through.

The Taiqing True Fire beneath the cauldron flickered like an eternal flame, dancing gently. Time flowed rapidly as the flames flickered.

Seasons changed.

Five hundred years passed.

Five hundred years later, Gu An was still lying in the same chair, while Shen Zhen remained seated in front of the refining cauldron.

Gu An turned over, tucking The Adventures of the Green Hero into his robe. He picked up the Azure Swan Sword and slowly drew it from its scabbard.

The sound of the blade leaving the sheath startled Shen Zhen. She turned her head to look at him, watching as he casually played with the sword. Just as she was about to ask a question, her expression suddenly changed, and she snapped her head up.

Not just her—the entire Dao Field was alarmed, and countless people raised their heads to the sky.

In the vast blue sky, countless black dots had appeared. These dots expanded rapidly, resembling black holes, making the sky seem riddled with wounds.

”What is that?” Shen Zhen frowned.

Gu An didn’t look up. He lightly swung the Azure Swan Sword and casually answered, ”A transcendent force from beyond the Great Thousand World—they call themselves the War Court.”

”War Court?”

Shen Zhen had never heard this name before. Surprised, she asked, ”Why do all these powerful sects like to call themselves ’Courts’? Sacred Court, Dao Court, War Court… Don’t tell me the Heavenly Court from your books actually exists too?”

She had long suspected that Investiture of the Gods and Journey to the West were real. Now that she thought about it, it seemed more plausible—after all, Gu An’s cultivation was beyond anything she could comprehend.

”Can’t say, can’t say,” Gu An replied with an enigmatic smile.

At this moment, he was considering which sword technique would be best to annihilate the War Court.

Then, as if sensing something, he turned his head toward the distance, a strange glint flashing in his eyes.

The direction he was looking at was precisely where Tai Xuan Sect was located.

Meanwhile, in the distant Tai Cang Continent.

Underneath the pavilion of Long Qing, Zhu Xing and Ye Cang had appeared. The spirit of Qingtian Patriarch also emerged from within Ye Cang’s body.

He gazed up at the sky, his brows deeply furrowed.

”The War Court is truly terrifying…” Qingtian Patriarch murmured.

Zhu Xing also looked up at the sky, disbelief written all over his face.

Qingtian Patriarch turned his gaze toward him and asked, ”Weren’t you also from the War Court? Didn’t you say you wanted Tai Xuan Sect to replace them?”

Ye Cang also looked at Zhu Xing, catching the sarcasm in Qingtian Patriarch’s tone.

Zhu Xing took a deep breath and said, ”Even I didn’t expect the War Court to have such a deep foundation. It seems that ’that existence’ has emerged from seclusion and summoned those ancient great cultivators who had long disappeared.”

”Strange… He always looked down on the Long Clan. The ones targeting the Long Clan have always been the War Gods of the War Court…”

Qingtian Patriarch speculated, ”Even the Heavenly Spirit God has fallen. If the War Court dares to come here, they must have absolute confidence.”

Zhu Xing had no response. His heart was in turmoil.

The oppressive aura of the War Court’s descent made his heart tremble. He dared not imagine what it would be like to face those War Gods, let alone that existence.

That existence was the legend of the War Court. Even after reaching the Profound Origin Free Immortal Realm, Zhu Xing had never once laid eyes on him.

Boom!

The door to the pavilion swung open.

Long Qing stepped out from within, descending the stairs at an unhurried pace. His expression was calm and composed.

A figure suddenly materialized at the bottom of the stairs—it was Long Teng, his son.

”Father, what is that anomaly in the sky? Why do I feel my blood essence surging uncontrollably? I even…” Long Teng frowned as he spoke.

Long Qing reached the staircase landing and looked down at him. ”You even feel hostility and killing intent rising within you?”

Long Teng’s eyes widened. ”Father, do you feel it too?”

Long Qing continued walking down the stairs, glancing up at the sky. ”Some things… there’s no time to explain. And you don’t need to know.”

”Just watch.”

”Watch? Father, what are you planning to do?” Long Teng’s brows furrowed deeper, a deep sense of unease welling up in his heart.

As Long Qing stepped closer, Long Teng had an inexplicable feeling—he feared that his father could disappear at any moment. On instinct, he reached out, trying to grab hold of Long Qing’s robe.

Zhu Xing, Ye Cang, and Qingtian Patriarch, who knew the fate of the Long Clan, all remained silent, their eyes fixed on Long Qing.

Ye Cang clenched his fists, unwilling to accept what was happening.

He had never expected the War Court to arrive so quickly.

To mortals, five hundred years was a long time.

But for him, it was not enough—his cultivation had yet to break through, far from enough to help his master.

Just sensing the vast and boundless pressure that enveloped the world, Ye Cang knew he was powerless against this fate.

But…

How will Master respond?

Ye Cang knew his master’s cultivation was not much higher than his own.

And yet, the calmness in Long Qing’s expression made him feel a strange sense of hope.