El General Todopoderoso de Dragón

“Your subordinate obeys!” Aemon kowtowed thrice, as if he had been granted a pardon and quickly scurried out of the room.
Just as Aemon was about to make his exit, Morgana suddenly called out, “Stop!”
Aemon’s back went cold and he swiftly turned around, trembling as he inquired, “M... My Lord... do you have any further
commands?”
Morgana asked him, “How are the Three Elders?”
Relieved that Morgana was not pursuing the matter further, Aemon replied, bowing respectfully, “My Lord, the Three Elders are
currently waiting in the secret hall.”
Morgana furrowed her brow and asked, “When I ordered their return, did you notice any changes in their demeanor?”
“This...” Aemon Mirren hesitated for a moment before respectfully answering, “Master, when you ordered their return, the Three
Elders appeared somewhat displeased.”
“Displeased?” Morgana sneered and calmly said, “These three individuals are dissatisfied because I disturbed their seclusion. It
seems that human nature works that way. Offer someone a bowl of rice and they may not show much gratitude. Take away half
of their meal and they will hate you instead.”
Aemon cautiously asked, “My Lord, what do you think should be done?”
Morgana responded indifferently, “Rewards! Naturally, they should be rewarded! When you lead troops into battle, they should be
rewarded for victory, rewarded for their exhaustion and rewarded for their fruitless efforts. However, the rewards will come later.
Let them wait and allow them to complain silently. Rewarding them outright will make them feel entitled. It’s better to let them
contemplate their previous complaints and feel a sense of shame when the time is right.”
Aemon was perplexed but could only offer flattery, saying, “The Lord is wise and I am inferior in comparison.”
Morgana, recognizing the flattery for what it was, waved her hand impatiently. “Very well, go and prepare a place for them to stay.
You shall accompany them for a few days and we shall discuss the rest upon my return.”
Aemon didn’t hesitate and quickly responded, “Your subordinate obeys!”
After Aemon departed, Morgana paced toward a wall in the main hall where a world map was projected using laser technology.

The main hall had a ceiling height of over six meters and a colossal world map, measuring six meters in height and twelve
meters in width, was projected onto the entire wall. Her gaze fixed on Myanmar on the map, then shifted to the neighboring
southern province and finally traveled to the Dian Mountains, thousands of miles away from the southern province. Her thoughts
drifted away. She thought of her old friend and then her Master.
The portrait of her Master being used to warn her by someone else today made her whisper to herself, “Master, it seems you
underestimated me and my brother. When you left, both of us were by your side, yet you never revealed the secret of longevity
to us. After more than three hundred years since your passing, I had to learn the details of the secret from others. Am I,
Morgana, truly unworthy of your attention?”
With that thought, Morgana’s mind instantly traveled back to 1650, more than three hundred years ago.
In the vast Dian Mountains lay a forbidden place rarely visited by people.
For hundreds of miles, no residents dared to settle there. The reason being that for hundreds of years, an unfathomable miasma
had plagued the area. No matter where one ventured, they would end up on
the outskirts of the miasma. Inhaling it would result in months of excruciating headaches, nausea and unbearable pain. Some
desperate souls, driven by curiosity, ventured into the heart of the miasma, only to meet their demise. Over time, the local
mountain folk came to revere this place as an absolute forbidden zone.
However, they were unaware that the epicenter of the miasma was none other than the cave where Morvel Bazin secluded
himself for cultivation. The miasma was merely a formation he had set up to shield mortals from the troubles within.
With unwavering determination, he pursued the path to longevity, residing in these mountains alone for centuries.
When Morgana and Lucius Clark were pursued by the invading army into the mountains, they found themselves with nowhere to
turn, plunging into the endless miasma.
Had the invading army not set fire to the mountain, infuriating Morvel Bazin, he would never have coincidentally saved the two of
them. It was through this rescue that Morvel Bazin learned of the sudden changes in the outside world, with the Han dynasty
being overthrown by the Jurchens.
Hence, he accepted Morgana and Lucius Clark as his disciples, imparting his skills and allowing them to continue the fight
against the invading rebels. As for himself, he could not abandon his pursuit of longevity and continued to endure rigorous
cultivation within the Mountains.

At that moment, Morgana’s thoughts jumped to 1662.
During that time, her sole focus was on joining her friend, who was like her older brother, Lucius Clark, in dedicating herself to
the cause, even at the cost of her life.
Together, they attempted to assassinate William Saint. However, they had not anticipated the formidable individuals and capable
strangers he had gathered. The assassination failed and nearly all the righteous men who had participated in the operation were
slain. But she and her brother fought to the death, carving a bloody path for themselves.
Following the operation’s failure, both of them were filled with despair. The region was on the brink of collapse and the mainland
lacked a main force to resist the Warriors Den. In desperation, Lucius Clark proposed that they seek refuge in Taiwan.
The two struggled to escape the invading army’s encirclement in the southern province. Sadly, fate did not favor their aspirations.
Before they could complete even half of their journey, news of the Emperor’s sudden death reached the mainland.
At that time, the rebels reveled in nationwide celebration.
Overwhelmed by disappointment, both Morgana and Lucius Clark were disheartened.
They realized their limitations in terms of military might. Additionally, the rebel army pursued them relentlessly. Left with no
choice, the two returned to the mountain to seek refuge with Morvel Bazin once more. But little did they know that Morvel Bazin
was nearing his end during that period.
Recalling these events, Morgana fast-forwarded to the spring of 1663.
The scene from that year reemerged vividly in her mind. She and her brother were meditating when Morvel Bazin, with his brows
and beard already white, approached them with a stooped figure. He calmly said, “Lucius, Morgana, come with me.”
Although they sensed their Master’s fatigue that day, they failed to notice anything amiss. Hence, the two followed Morvel Bazin
into his stone chamber.
Morvel Bazin pointed to two cushions in front of him and instructed them, “Sit!”
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