DLERB -Chapter 142 Xu Fu: I just ascended the throne, and you tell me Qin Shi Huang has arrived?

Xu Fu lay reclined on a tatami mat.

The palace was built by him imitating the Xianyang Palace, but unfortunately, it was made of wood.

Everywhere carried a cheap, damp smell.

Two fair-skinned native girls knelt beside him.

Their bodies were coated in thick white clay—this was the most noble form of makeup in this land.

One girl carefully lifted a plate of grilled fish.

The fish was half-cooked, still streaked with blood.

Xu Fu’s brow twitched slightly.

Still, he took a bite.

A “god” cannot be picky.

At least not in front of these uncivilized natives.

Outside the hall.

Thousands of natives wearing only grass skirts were prostrating themselves toward the Heavenly King Hall.

They repeatedly chanted four words:

“Celestial King… eternal life…”

Their pronunciation was strange and awkward.

This was the first “divine language” Xu Fu had taught them.

Xu Fu picked up a rough clay bowl and drank a mouthful of murky rice wine.

It was harsh, scratching his throat.

But he liked it.

Here, he was the sky, he was god.

No longer did he have to look at that man’s face.

No longer did he have to live in fear.

Xianyang may be glorious, but it belonged to Ying Zheng.

This place, no matter how crude, belonged to him.

Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix.

He was satisfied.

At that moment—

“My King! My King!”

A figure stumbled and rolled into the hall.

It was one of the subordinates sent to the Central Plains.

The man knelt, trembling all over, his face filled with relief after surviving disaster.

“My King! Great victory! A great victory!”

Xu Fu straightened his body.

“Speak.”

The man was so excited he could barely form coherent words.

“Our ghost ships… succeeded!”

“The Qin people were terrified!”

“We heavily damaged their naval forces in the East Sea!”

“Ying Zheng… now doesn’t even dare to send fishing boats out to sea!”

“Ha!”

Xu Fu’s face broke into wild delight.

“Good! Good! Good!”

He stood up and walked toward the man.

“Ying Zheng…”

“Just a brute who only knows violence!”

“What does he understand of divine authority?!”

Xu Fu patted his shoulder.

“You have done well.”

“You shall be rewarded!”

He called toward the door.

“Someone!”

A native guard entered.

Xu Fu pointed at the messenger.

“Reward him with two rice balls!”

Then he pointed at a kneeling girl outside the hall.

“And reward him with a woman!”

The messenger froze for a moment.

Then overwhelming joy flooded him.

He slammed his head to the ground until it bled.

“Thank you, my King! Thank you, Heavenly King!”

“All hail the King! Long live the Heavenly King!”

Xu Fu laughed loudly.

“Send my order!”

“Celebrate across the entire island for three days!”

“Let everyone know—we have defeated the demons of the East!”

A celebration feast followed.

The entire island fell into frenzy.

The natives danced bizarrely around bonfires.

Xu Fu sat at the highest seat, enjoying the worship of his subjects.

Just as he raised his bowl to drink again—

“Something is wrong! Something is wrong!”

A lookout from the coast rushed over in panic.

He even forgot to kneel.

He pointed toward the eastern sea, his face twisted in terror.

“A mountain… a black mountain!”

“A moving black mountain… it’s smoking!”

The celebratory music stopped.

Everyone turned toward the lookout.

Xu Fu’s expression darkened.

“Nonsense!”

He kicked over the table beside him and strode out of the wooden palace.

All the natives followed behind him in silence, not daring to breathe.

On the beach.

Xu Fu narrowed his eyes and looked toward the horizon.

And there it was.

At the distant line where sea and sky met, a straight column of black smoke connected heaven and earth.

Beneath the smoke was a blurred, massive black shadow.

It was moving.

Slowly—but undeniably approaching the island.

What was that?

A mirage?

Or some unknown giant sea beast?

Xu Fu felt a faint unease rise in his heart.

But he could not show it.

He was a god.

And gods know everything.

Behind him, the natives began whispering in fear.

He could not let them panic.

Xu Fu steadied his mind.

He turned around and spread his arms wide.

A sacred and fanatical smile appeared on his face.

“Silence!”

He declared loudly.

“This is not a monster!”

“This is an auspicious omen!”

“It is the divine messenger sent by Amaterasu, who has heard our prayers!”

“This is heaven’s approval of us!”

The natives froze.

An auspicious omen?

Xu Fu pointed at the black smoke in the distance.

“Do you see that smoke?”

“That is the incense burned by the divine envoy!”

“And that black shadow?”

“That is the divine envoy’s sacred vessel!”

“The Great God has manifested himself!”

After a brief silence—

The crowd of natives erupted into thunderous cheers.

“Long live the Heavenly King!”

“Long live Amaterasu!”

Fear instantly turned into fanatic worship.

Xu Fu looked at everything with satisfaction.

He intended to use this moment to elevate his divine status even further.

“Listen to my command!”

“Gather all warriors!”

“Follow me to the beach—to welcome the descent of the divine envoy!”

The order spread.

The entire island began to move.

Thirty thousand native “soldiers” emerged from every corner.

What they carried was a chaotic assortment of weapons.

Some held sharpened bamboo spears.

Some carried crude stone axes.

Others simply held wooden sticks.

They gathered in a disorderly mass on the beach—black压压一片.

Like a swarm of enraged monkeys.

Xu Fu changed into a brand-new silk kimono.

He stood on a hastily constructed altar of stone and wood.

He felt excellent.

He would make everyone see it—

The “divine envoy” had come because of him.

He was the true ruler of this island.

The black shape at sea drew closer and closer.

So close that its outline could already be seen clearly.

It was not a mountain.

On the altar, Xu Fu’s smile slowly disappeared.

The morning sea mist was torn apart by an unseen force.

A colossal black iron beast crashed into everyone’s vision.

It had no sails.

A giant chimney on its deck spewed violent black smoke.

On both sides, iron paddle wheels churned the sea, producing thunder-like roars.

At the bow was a terrifying, gleaming metal ram pointed directly at the shore.

A figure seemed to be bound to that ram.

On the body of the giant beast, a massive flag snapped violently in the sea wind.

A black flag.

In its center, a single golden embroidered character pierced Xu Fu’s eyes.

Qin!

All the color drained from Xu Fu’s face in an instant.

Behind him, the native army also fell silent.

They did not recognize the character.

But they could feel the suffocating pressure of that steel behemoth.

“A ship…”

“That… is a ship?”

Xu Fu’s voice trembled.

Impossible.

How could there be a ship made of iron?

How could a ship be this large?

How could a ship move on its own—and smoke?

He grabbed a crystal tube from a subordinate’s hand.

It was a crude telescope he had made using techniques he brought from the mainland, usually used to observe seabirds.

With trembling hands, he aimed it at the deck.

The view instantly magnified.

He saw them.

Many people stood on the deck.

At the front was a man in a black dragon robe.

Tall. Young.

His face was handsome, but carried an icy indifference that looked down upon all living beings.

That face…

Xu Fu recognized it.

Ying Zheng!

But how?

Why was he so young?

Was he not supposed to already be an old man with a face full of wrinkles?

Beside Ying Zheng stood a child.

A child only seven or eight years old.

That child was holding an even more refined telescope, looking back at him.

Xu Fu felt his legs weaken.

“Clack.”

The crystal tube slipped from his hands and shattered on the ground.

That was not an auspicious omen.

That was a death sentence.

Ying Zheng had come.

Great Qin had come knocking at the door.

On the massive ship.

Ying Ziye lowered his thousand-mile mirror.

He looked at the dense crowd of natives on the beach—like ants.

Then at the man on the altar, dressed in silk kimono, already frozen in terror.

He grinned, revealing a row of small white teeth.

“Uncle Meng Tian.”

He turned to Meng Tian beside him.

“See that guy dressed like a fake divine priest?”

Ying Ziye raised his small finger and pointed toward the altar.

“Don’t blow him to pieces.”

“Leave him breathing.”