Kaelan stands before the empty stretch of open ground, sleeves rolled up, mana circulating through his fingertips, breath steady.
He decides it is time to build the flying ship.
From his storage ring, massive beams of Red Iron Wood appear, dense and metallic, each plank heavy enough to crush oxen and snap mortal carts.
But under his hands, the pieces rise, weightless, obedient.
He shapes the main keel with a thought.
He splits the timbers, smooths them, and joins them, forming the spine of the vessel in a single flowing motion.
Red Iron Wood—perfect for bearing the pressure of flight.
He presses his palm to the keel, and mana spills outward.
Lines of glowing runes unfurl beneath his fingers in a quiet, living shimmer.
A Spiritual Energy Absorption Array coils around the mast socket.
An Anti-Gravity Array locks into that foundation, spiralling upward until the air distorts and gravity loosens its hold.
The mast hums.
Kaelan nods once.
He summons Teal Wood next, light and flexible, able to withstand speeds that tear ordinary materials apart.
He forms the outer hull piece by piece, planks stitching together without a single mistake.
On its surface, he engraves absorption arrays, hardening arrays, and shock-resistance runes meant to endure violent manoeuvring.
Inside the hull, he engraves weight-reduction arrays and secondary absorption circuits.
Then he carves the true core: a massive composite array linking every rune, seam, conduit, and spiritual pathway through the craft.
At the centre of that composite array, he anchors a Spiritual Energy Pool.
A crystalline basin glows to life, pulsing like a newborn heart.
This is what will let his clone fly the ship across kingdoms.
At the stern, Kaelan builds two giant rear fans, each with dozens of blades capable of rotating at speeds mortals cannot see.
Behind them, he adds a long, sharp tail-fin—the rudder, shaped to turn with a single thought.
He steps back.
The body, engines, runes, mast, keel—everything stands complete.
Two weeks pass.
The ship now rests finished, vast and elegant, its hull shimmering with faint spiritual light.
Kaelan steps onto the deck.
A slow breath leaves him, controlled and relieved.
His spirit sweeps through the ship's innards.
Conduits stable
Arrays perfect
Energy flow smooth
No leaks
No cracks
No misaligned runes
Good.
He turns—
—and freezes as he realises the open field has filled with thousands.
Cityfolk
Martial artists
Refiners
Children perched on shoulders
Elders leaning on canes
Disciples whispering to masters
All staring.
All whispering.
He hears their voices drifting through the wind.
"Is that… a ship?"
"Lord Kong built this?"
"How large is it… fifty meters? More?"
"Why build it here? Our kingdom doesn't have any large waterway?"
"Is this a new wizard weapon?"
"What a large ship!"
"Why are there no sails and mast!"
Kaelan meets their gaze from the high deck.
His expression remains calm, his robes tugged by the wind as the towering ship behind him stands like a myth rising from the soil.
Below, the crowd continues to swell.
Because they are witnessing something the world has never seen before.
Kaelan turns, steps off the deck, and enters the ship's interior.
He walks through the reinforced corridors until he reaches the control centre—the heart of the vessel, where the spiritual energy pool waits in silent anticipation.
He places his hand on the crystalline basin.
Mana surges from his palm.
The spiritual pool awakens with a deep, resonant hum.
At once, the absorption arrays carved into the mast and hull ignite in synchronised light.
Spiritual energy in the surroundings trembles—then races toward the ship like a silver storm.
As the sun sets and the sky darkens, the field transforms into a spectacle.
Ribbons of spiritual light whip across the horizon.
Streams of energy converge from every direction, pulled with irresistible force.
An ocean of silver spiritual essence swirls around the ship, bright enough to illuminate the land like moonlight.
The arrays refine it.
Condense it.
Cool it.
Drop by drop, liquid spiritual energy drips into the pool.
Each drop lands with a soft chime, and the entire ship vibrates as the Anti-Gravity Array drinks in the power.
At the edge of the crowd, Chen Juan tugs at his mother's sleeve.
"Mother, the ship is rising from the ground."
Shen Yuelan's eyes shine as she watches the impossible unfold before her.
Her admiration for Lord Kong overflows, quiet and intense.
In the lonely nights before, guilt had always crept into her heart—guilt for becoming Lord Kong's lover while still tied to a past she couldn't escape.
But standing here, watching the ship ascend, every strand of guilt evaporates.
When she compares the crown prince to Lord Kong—
There is no comparison at all.
This creation alone solidifies Lord Kong's place in her heart.
It drowns the shadow of the crown prince completely.
Even so, if she could change the past, she would still marry the crown prince—
But only because it gave her Chen Juan.
She gently caresses her son's hair.
"Do you want to ride on it?"
Chen Juan nods eagerly, eyes shining as the flying ship climbs higher and higher, rising through the last bands of sunset and piercing the cloud layer.
Below, the crowd watches in breathless awe.
Nobles exchange looks—fear, reverence, and dawning realisation mixing in their eyes.
Their thoughts of betrayal dissolve.
Because no one in the world can match Lord Kong now—
None except the Divine Clan.
But the Divine Clan floats high above, unreachable, legendary.
And following Lord Kong may be the only path to ever setting foot on the Sky Island of the Divine Race.
The flying ship ascends in cheers that shake the night, spiralling upward, breaking through the clouds in a burst of light.
Then it disappears from sight, blowing apart the drifting cloudbank—
leaving only the echo of its passing and the stunned silence of the world below.
Kaelan stands at the control centre, hands resting lightly on the stabilising handles as the spiritual energy pool glows beneath him.
The arrays hum in perfect harmony.
The ship vibrates once—alive, ready.
He channels more mana.
The Anti-Gravity Array flares.
The flying ship rises through the clouds, smooth and stable, like a whale ascending through the sea of sky.
He smiles, faint and satisfied.
The tests confirm everything.
The energy flow is flawless.
The stabilisers respond instantly
The rear fans adjust pressure without delay
The rudder shifts exactly with his thoughts
Perfect.
He redirects the ship eastward.
Clouds part around him as the massive vessel glides above mountain ridges and rivers, its shadow stretching across entire valleys.
Hours pass.
Then he sees it.
A city burning.
Below, the Chen Kingdom's eastern stronghold is besieged by Ren Kingdom forces—cultivators in the thousands pressing against broken walls, siege towers ablaze, smoke blotting the sky.
The defenders fire Wuya Bombs and Wuya Matchlock Guns, explosions lighting the battlements.
But the weapons are few.
And their enemies, though weaker in realm, are cultivators—fast, evasive, able to twist their bodies mid-air or reinforce their skin with Qi.
Bullets hit arms, legs, and shoulders—wounds that slow but do not stop them.
The walls tremble.
A breach widens.
The defenders fall back step by step.
Kaelan remains silent as he approaches.
Then the entire battlefield freezes.
Shadows swallow the ground as the flying ship descends from the clouds.
The pressure pouring from the vessel is immense—calm, crushing, absolute.
Every cultivator in the field feels it.
Ren Kingdom soldiers stumble, their bodies shaking.
Some drop their weapons entirely.
Even their commanders stop mid-attack, eyes widening.
A ship
A ship in the sky
Hovering above them
Gasps ripple through both armies.
"Is that… Lord Kong's ship?"
"I heard rumours, but this—this—"
"Is it a divine artefact?"
"Look at the size…"
The entire war halts in an instant.
No one dares move.
No one dares breathe too loud.
Kaelan does nothing more than let the ship hover—a silent declaration, a warning heavier than any army.
The message is unmistakable:
The Chen Kingdom is not alone.
Lord Kong exists.
And he is watching.
The Ren Kingdom commanders grit their teeth.
They understand.
If this ship attacks, the battle—and perhaps their entire campaign—ends in a single moment.
They retreat.
Slowly
Carefully
Without turning their backs until they are a safe distance away
The defenders watch, stunned.
Kaelan stays only long enough to ensure the retreat is real.
Then, without a word, he turns the flying ship away.
He must not directly intervene in the war.
He cannot tip the balance with force.
But presence alone—
that he can use.
The ship ascends back into the clouds, leaving the battlefield in awe-struck silence.
Moments later, it streaks westward.
Kaelan heads toward the capital, expression calm again, hands steady on the controls as the spiritual energy pool pulses beneath him.
Another test complete.
Another message delivered.
Another disaster was prevented without shedding a single drop of blood.
The world now knows:
that the Wizard Way can refine spiritual tools—
even a colossal flying ship.
Kaelan guides the ship back toward the capital, the clouds parting before its bow.
But his thoughts drift inward, deeper and sharper than before.
A flying ship is powerful.
A flying ship is strategic.
But a flying ship as a natal weapon…
that would allow his clone to wield its full potential—
speed, arrays, anti-gravity force, spiritual pool—
as naturally as moving an arm.
As he walks through the interior after landing, inspecting every corridor and array again, a faint pressure brushes against his senses.
A presence.
A whisper.
A barely formed ripple of awareness.
He stops.
He focuses.
A spiritual will.
Weak, infant-like… but present.
The ship has crossed into the spiritual treasure grade—
And just like all spiritual treasures, it has birthed a will of its own.
A will similar to a puppet:
Obedient, simple, unable to act beyond commands.
Kaelan studies it with calm eyes.
"So even a ship gives birth to will at this level."
Then an idea forms—
sharp, wild, brilliant.
What if he replaced this will?
What if he inserted the consciousness of his clone into the ship, using its frame as the vessel?
A clone mind is controlling the ship.
A clone mind connected to every array
A clone mind with the ship as its body
"If I don't try, I will never know the result."
He doesn't hesitate.
He does not care if destroying the ship's spiritual will drops it from spiritual treasure grade to ordinary spiritual tool grade.
Labels mean nothing.
If his clone can replace the ship's will—
If a clone can fuse with the entire vessel—
Then the clone gains the strength of a Divine Mind Realm expert.
Not through cultivation.
Through structure.
Through connection.
Through the ship becoming its body.
And if this succeeds…
Every one of his future clones could be strengthened the same way.
Kaelan sits in the control centre, the spiritual pool glowing beneath him, the dormant will trembling at his touch.
He closes his eyes.
His consciousness threads begin to divide—
splitting like silk strands under the pressure of endless precision.
One thread becomes two.
Two become four.
Four begin weaving into a new form—
a new clone consciousness, small and pure, shaped for insertion into a spiritual framework.
The process is delicate.
Dangerous.
Exact.
Spiritual light flickers through the chamber as Kaelan moulds the consciousness thread into a coherent being.
A new clone.
A mind without a body—
waiting to inhabit the ship.
He opens his eyes slowly, a faint gleam cutting through the dim chamber.
"It's time."
He places the newborn consciousness thread above the spiritual pool, letting it hover like a pale flame.
Next step—
erase the ship's primitive will
and let his clone descend into its place.
If successful, the flying ship will no longer merely obey him.
It will be him.
Or rather—
his clone.
A Divine Mind Realm existence, born from wood, metal, arrays, and will.
Kaelan raises his hand, ready to begin the replacement.