The peaks of Mount Qi, often shrouded in a veil of perpetual mist, stood as silent sentinels over the transition of an age. The air here was thin and carried the scent of pine needles and ancient stone, but on this specific day, a different energy pulsed through the atmosphere. The Great War between the house of Zhou and the crumbling Shang dynasty had reached its bloody conclusion. The fields of Muye were silent, the fires of the Morning Star Pavilion had dimmed to ash, and the fox-spirit Daji was no more. Yet, the cosmic ledger remained unbalanced. Thousands of souls—warriors, magicians, deities, and kings—floated in the liminal spaces between the earth and the heavens, awaiting their final judgment. It was here, upon the heights of Mount Qi, that the final act of the celestial drama would unfold, overseen by the man who had orchestrated the revolution of the stars.
Jiang Ziya, known to many as Taigong Wang or the Duke Tai of Qi, stood at the base of the newly constructed Terrace of Canonization. His hair was as white as the snows of Mount Kunlun, and his eyes held the weary depth of a man who had waited eighty years for his destiny to begin. He remembered the long decades spent in obscurity, fishing by the banks of the Wei River with a barbless, straight hook, waiting for the 'Big Fish' that was King Wen. He remembered the descent from the celestial peaks of Kunlun, where his master, the Primeval Lord of Heaven, Yuanshi Tianzun, had told him that he was not destined for immortality, but for the far more difficult task of being the bridge between the gods and men. He was a man of the Tao, yet his path had led through the gore of battlefields and the complexities of statecraft. Now, the burden of the Investiture lay solely upon his shoulders.
The Divine Altar, or the Fengshen Tai, was a marvel of spiritual architecture. It rose in three tiers, representing Heaven, Earth, and Man. At each corner, silken banners of the five elements—gold, wood, water, fire, and earth—snapped in the mountain breeze. The ground around the altar had been purified with sacred oils and blessed by the incantations of the remaining Zhou immortals. It was not merely a structure of wood and stone; it was a beacon designed to pierce the veil of the underworld and the celestial realms. In Jiang Ziya’s hands, he held the 'Fengshen Bang'—the List of the Investiture of the Gods—a scroll of yellow silk that contained the names of those destined for celestial office. Beside him lay the Whip of the Gods, a weapon capable of striking down even the most stubborn spirits and maintaining order among the divine.
As the sun reached its zenith, Jiang Ziya began his ascent. With each step, the wind seemed to howl louder, carrying with it the ghostly echoes of clashing swords and war cries. He reached the summit and planted the banner of the Yellow Signet. He began the ritual, chanting the ancient syllables that bound the spirit world to his command. 'By the authority of the Primeval Lord of Heaven, and by the mandate of the Jade Emperor, I, Jiang Ziya, summon the wandering spirits of the Great Conflict!' The sky darkened, and a swirling vortex of clouds formed above Mount Qi. From the vortex, the souls began to descend. They were not frightening specters, but translucent figures, their features softened by the transition of death, yet still bearing the marks of their earthly identities and the weight of their choices.
The first to be called were those who had suffered most unjustly, for the Tao prizes the restoration of balance. Jiang Ziya called forth the spirit of Bo Yikao, the eldest son of King Wen, who had been brutally executed by King Zhou. In a voice that resonated like a bronze bell, Jiang Ziya proclaimed his new title: the Great Emperor of the North Star, the leader of all stars and the symbol of filial piety. The spirit of Bo Yikao bowed, his form erupting into a brilliant light that ascended into the firmament. This set the tone for the hours to come. One by one, the fallen generals of the Zhou were called. Brave men who had sacrificed everything for the vision of a just kingdom were now transformed into protectors of the gates, lords of the winds, and guardians of the seasons. Their mortal lives had ended in violence, but their eternal existence would be dedicated to the preservation of cosmic order.