“Exactly. We’d originally stockpiled them as feed for vicious beasts. Young Master Li doesn’t have to take the whole lot—just buy what you can actually use,” the steward replied frankly.

Ye Liuyun thought for a moment, then asked, “If I buy everything, can you knock another twenty percent off? I’d rather stock up now than keep running back to the royal capital. Your chamber of commerce’s rules are ridiculous—proof of purchase just to buy feed? Am I supposed to eat it myself?”

He put on an aggrieved look, but it was only a bargaining tactic. The price was already dirt-cheap; beast fodder in exchange for beast corpses with intact core pellets meant he was making several times his investment. Still, under such absurd regulations the goods wouldn’t move quickly, so he might as well squeeze them further.

The steward weighed the offer. If this stock wasn’t cleared before the next shipment arrived, they’d face serious overstock.

“We’re simply unlucky—this edict came down right as we were restocking. But since Young Master Li asks, I’ll cut another twenty percent.”

Ye Liuyun nodded, satisfied. Any cheaper and the chamber might as well give the goods away.

He estimated when his clone would arrive, told the steward to set the entire lot aside, and paid a thirty-percent deposit. When the steward verified the incoming devil flood-dragon, the deal would close.

After wrapping up, dusk had fallen. Ye Liuyun saw the steward off and told Qingyu to come back tomorrow; he’d take her out then.

He returned at once to his spatial world and began soul-searching the newly bought slaves one by one, learning about their home star systems and the Fire-Seal Dynasty’s armies.

The late-Unity elders knew their galaxies inside out—strength, resources, population. The men he suspected of being officers were equally versed in the dynasty’s forces.

Piecing it together, he found every galaxy weaker than the dynasty’s legions. Unity-Ninth cultivators were rare; some systems had almost none.

The dynasty fielded over ten thousand elite soldiers, all Unity-Ninth, nearly a hundred of them late-Ninth. Regular troops were split evenly between Unity-Seventh/Eighth and mid-Unity. With that force they could sweep any neighboring galaxy.

Currently the dynasty deployed four main armies: only a hundred thousand of their own troops, but two hundred thousand conscripts from conquered systems, used to fight their own people. Casualties were minimal; only occasional detachments saw action.

The besieged galaxies resisted with everything they had, yet none escaped annihilation.

Ye Liuyun asked directions and distances, sketching the dynasty’s advance. According to the captives, before attacking them the dynasty had already crushed every system ahead. Each conquest left half the planets as tributary territory, providing endless resources.

He focused on the four cultivators he favored. The bearded man, Xiao Heng, truly commanded a hundred-thousand-man legion, famed for valor. The composed middle-aged officer was a deputy commander whose cultivation art closely resembled the Primordial Origin Qi Method. They’d come from different galaxies but meshed perfectly.

The timid-looking youth, Meng Tianlin, had been forcibly conscripted. His clan technique etched unique runes onto his core pellet, letting him multiply his true essence quality in battle and strike two or three realms above his own. Lacking experience, he’d been knocked out on his first sortie; when he woke, his entire planet was gone.

The cold-faced man, Lin Mo, had been an assassin before enlisting, leading a reconnaissance and assassination squad. After a failed mission he’d stayed behind to cover his team’s retreat and was captured.

Ye Liuyun sparred with him in stealth techniques; their skills and sharp senses were evenly matched, astonishing Lin Mo.

He spoke with all four. Hearing he planned to fight the Fire-Seal Dynasty, each volunteered eagerly.

Ye Liuyun kept them, intending to hand them to Yu Xiaofeng later for training in his spatial world. Others of suitable cultivation would serve as sparring partners for the women; the rest would await Yu Xiaofeng’s return.

The four Unity-Eighth elders he kept as attendants. If he ever returned to their galaxies, they might prove useful. To prevent them from being soul-searched by others, he revealed little—only promising to take them home and grant freedom, which satisfied them.

The soul searches hadn’t been a waste of spirit stones; these men all hated the dynasty. If Yu Xiaofeng found suitable candidates among them, they’d be valuable assets.

The interrogations and coordination took time, but his soul force was now strong enough to feel no fatigue. Once everyone was settled, he began cultivating, condensing divine essence.

Neither clone hurried. The first altered its appearance again, posing as a family elder delivering the devil flood-dragon to Ye Liuyun while heading for the royal capital. Along the way it posted scouts and recruited two Unity-Eighth rogue cultivators as bodyguards.

The second clone was ambushed by a bandit gang, wiped them out, and took a few survivors captive. In the process it rescued a captured Myriad Transformation Sect array master.

The array master had been returning from a sect mission when the bandits sealed his true essence and confiscated his messenger talismans, leaving him unable to flee or call for help. The bandits hadn’t bothered to enslave his soul, so the sect merely thought he was still on assignment.

Lacking backbone, the array master had surrendered and helped the bandits carve defensive formations, making their lair nigh impregnable. Had the second clone not disguised itself as one of them, it could never have entered.