The Lord God Descends into League of Legends - Chapter 10

Chu Kingdom, Yingdu, within the royal palace.

The palace blazed with light. King Kang of Chu sat cross-legged behind a low desk, clad in a fiery-red robe, his face calm and composed, eyes closed in deep thought.

“Tell me, for what reason do you think Yue Liuli has come?” King Kang asked in a low voice after a moment’s silence.

“I do not know.”
In the shadows of the grand hall stood a tall figure, robed in black, hair unbound, a sword clasped in his arms. His tone was flat as he replied to the king’s question.

“Kuangge, if you faced Yue Linglong, what chance would you have?” King Kang’s eyes snapped open, two cold gleams flashing within them.

“I would die. Yue Linglong would be lightly wounded.” Chu Kuangge’s expression froze for a moment, but his voice remained calm.

“What a pity,” King Kang muttered, asking no more. It was unclear whether he lamented the loss of a peerless master for Chu, or the missed chance to rid himself of Yue Linglong.

“Your Majesty, Yue Liuli has arrived.” At that moment, the eunuch’s sharp, feminine voice rang outside the hall.

As the words fell, a petite figure entered. She wore a pale violet gown, her slender waist bound by a black sash patterned with golden designs, making her graceful form even more striking.

“Yue Liuli, by order, pays respects to King Kang,” she said softly, her voice clear as silver bells.

“Haha, I wonder what brings the Priestess here? I was out hunting earlier and fear I have been remiss in my welcome,” King Kang said with a kindly smile.

“My elder sister bade me report to King Kang: soon a divine figure will arrive in Yingdu. This is Chu’s chance to rise.” Yue Liuli’s violet eyes fixed calmly on the king, her face unshaken by his warmth. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and departed.

King Kang’s smile froze as he watched her graceful figure leave. His eyes flashed with cold light, his hands clenched beneath his robe, veins bulging.

“Disrespectful! Utterly disrespectful!” he roared once she was gone, slamming his palm onto the desk, his face twisted in rage.

His breath came heavy, his eyes full of murderous intent. These two witch sisters had never shown him the slightest respect. To them, he was merely a tool to be discarded at will.

A tool! The thought made him grit his teeth until they creaked. I am King of Chu! The true master of this land!

“Your Majesty has lost composure,” Chu Kuangge said, sword in hand, eyes sharp as blades, a trace of regret in his voice.

When he had been recruited by King Kang, he had already understood: he was only a pawn, meant to oppose Yue Linglong and curb her growing prestige. Yet he had never feared this fate; he craved fame, the thrill of being sung of by the world.

Ten years of sharpening his sword—wasn’t it all for this moment? Yet when he truly stood before Yue Linglong, his sword hand trembled. A swordsman who quailed before even striking had already lost.

He knew then that he had been utterly defeated—by a single look from Yue Linglong, which crushed his will to contend.

“You are right, beloved minister. I lost my composure,” King Kang said after a deep breath, sitting upright once more, his face calm.

Yue Linglong’s prestige in Chu was unmatched, her methods unfathomable. Of course King Kang knew he was powerless against her. And it was precisely this helplessness that fueled his deep hatred for the sisters.

“Hmph! I wonder what trick that sorceress plots this time. I have summoned heroes from all under heaven to Yingdu to test their mettle, and she dares claim a god descends? Ridiculous!” King Kang spat through clenched teeth, eyes flashing.

To him, it was clearly just another ploy by Yue Linglong to undermine him and flaunt her authority. Otherwise, why would the so-called divine envoy arrive precisely when the heroes of the world gathered?

“Haha, I must congratulate Your Majesty!” A frail, stooped old man entered the hall then, his wrinkled face smiling as he bowed.

“Grand Marshal, why do you laugh at me?” King Kang asked darkly, his displeasure plain.

“The High Priestess proclaims that the divine envoy of the Eastern Emperor Taiyi descends to this world. Is this not a great joy for Your Majesty?” Wei Zifeng bowed slowly, his voice calm and measured.

King Kang froze, puzzled. When did Yue Linglong ever say it was the envoy of Taiyi?

“This is joyous news indeed. It should be spread far and wide. With the heroes of the world gathered in Yingdu, why not let them witness the envoy of the Eastern Emperor with their own eyes?” Wei Zifeng’s eyes narrowed, his old face curling into a mysterious smile. His tone carried a subtle, uncanny air.

At first King Kang frowned, then realization dawned. Old ginger is indeed spicier! With a few words, Wei Zifeng had elevated Yue Linglong’s envoy beyond measure. Should the envoy fail and be shamed before all, her prestige would plummet. Should he prove extraordinary, then Chu’s glory would resound across the world, reminding all that Chu remained master of the realm.

King Kang’s face lit with delight as he looked upon Wei Zifeng with approval. “The Grand Marshal speaks wisely! Such joyous news must be shared with the world. With heroes gathered in Yingdu, naturally we must let them behold the envoy of Taiyi!”

“I have long admired the High Priestess’s devotion to the Eastern Emperor. Now that the Emperor responds and sends a divine envoy, if the Priestess serves devoutly at his side, all will be moved. That shall be the second joy,” Wei Zifeng said with narrowed eyes and a smile of reverence.

“Marvelous, simply marvelous!” King Kang’s eyes shone, and he clapped in delight.

Even Chu Kuangge, ever expressionless, glanced at Wei Zifeng in admiration.

No matter the outcome, the king would lose nothing. But if Yue Linglong faltered, she would face endless blows from King Kang thereafter.

Several hundred li outside Tong City, in a wilderness.

Mo Chen lit a campfire. Beside it he set dishes of food: a steaming white-cut chicken, a plate of fluffy steamed buns, and a jug of clear wine—all things he had once exchanged before the collapse of the Main God.

Leaning against a thick tree trunk, he gazed up at the starry sky, calm at heart.

“Main God, tell me—without you, what will become of the Samsara Space?” Mo Chen asked inwardly.

“Without my control, it will not be utterly destroyed, though much of it will fall useless,” the Main God answered flatly, without emotion.

“Who schemed against you so severely?” Mo Chen was silent a moment before asking.

“I have forgotten,” the Main God said with confusion and helplessness.

It was the first time Mo Chen had heard emotion in his voice. But the answer left him speechless. You don’t even remember who set you up—what’s the point, then?

“They are strong. Very strong. It is better you do not know their names. To merely think their names is enough for them to sense you, wherever you are,” the Main God said solemnly after a pause.

“What, just mentioning their names can reveal me? Don’t tell me they’re at the level of the Saints of the Primordial Era!” Mo Chen said weakly.

“Not Saints. Stronger—beings beyond even the Dao Ancestor.”

At first Mo Chen sighed in relief, ready to mock the Main God’s weakness. But the latter half of the sentence nearly made him choke. Stronger than the Dao Ancestor—and more than one? What wicked thing did you do to provoke that?

He raged inwardly at the Main God.

“When we merge, you will become the Main God,” the Main God finally said.

Mo Chen almost suffocated from the words he couldn’t spit out.

“You’re already so wretched… and those who schemed against you—what of them?” Mo Chen pressed, half-expecting.

“They should be in a state similar to mine,” the Main God answered, for once uncertain, his words hesitant.

Mo Chen fell silent, utterly speechless at last.