No one could survive having their heart crushed.
That simple truth held even for someone who had mastered the White Illusion Jiangshi Art, one of the foremost among the world’s countless monstrous martial arts and supreme techniques.
Thud.
His body crumpled like a rotten old tree.
The Son of Heaven looked down in silence at the traitor who had finally met his end. Then he pulled his hand from deep inside the man’s chest and spoke.
“Commander.”
The brief call contained no instruction, but it was enough for Baek Yeon, Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
“At your command.”
The reverence he showed the Son of Heaven, who had personally executed the traitor, came as naturally as flowing water.
So did the crescent-bladed polearm that flashed downward.
Shhk!
Flesh and bone parted with a chilling slice.
Baek Yeon beheaded the traitor in a single stroke, then speared the severed head on the tip of his polearm and held it upright.
The traitor’s eyes had frozen wide open before they could close. Now they would watch the scene below the hill to the very end.
Shh-shh-shh-shh-shhk!
It wasn’t just one person who thought the sky had suddenly darkened.
Thousands of Imperial Guards, every one of them an elite chosen to serve the Son of Heaven, loosed their powerful bows at once. Their arrows, propelled by internal energy, covered the sky and rained down with tremendous speed and force.
They fell upon the enemies struggling desperately in the shallow basin dozens of jang1 away.
Thwup-thwup-thwup!
“Gaaah!”
Blood and screams burst forth without pause.
At the start of the battle, many of the fanatics had taken Temporary Strength Pills. They swung Sword Energy as they closed the distance, but even at full speed, they could not reach the hill.
“Open.”
Fwoosh.
At Zhuge Feng’s quiet command, a strange energy drifting through the air rose like heat haze.
Thick fog swallowed the base of the hill in an instant.
The fanatics fell into confusion at the sight of illusions unlike any they had seen before. Then a second command rang out.
“Close.”
Clack.
With a cold metallic sound, countless hidden weapons and arrowheads emerged all around them.
The Zhuge Clan’s mechanisms and formations, hailed as the finest in the world, had finally revealed themselves.
The result was a horrific death.
Fwoosh, splat!
The fog turned red.
Everything inside was pierced, cut, and smashed to pieces.
From between rocks, beneath the earth, and even the knots in trees, traps sprang from gaps no one would have thought to watch. In moments, the fanatics were driven to their deaths.
A few escaped the fog by using their allies’ corpses as shields, but Zhuge Feng had prepared more than that.
Fwoosh!
The Zhuge Clan retainers numbered a mere hundred. The terrifying rate of fire of their Zhuge Repeating Crossbows was more than enough to make up for their small numbers.
Far more than enough.
Crack-crack-crack!
In the blink of an eye, riddled bodies piled up.
The battle that had begun in the dead of night was still going on, but what unfolded before everyone’s eyes made even the word battle seem inadequate.
A slaughter this one-sided could hardly be called a battle.
And this hellscape was not unfolding only in Henan.
“Looks like it’ll be a long night.”
Zhuge Feng answered the Son of Heaven’s sudden murmur.
“And soon, the sun will rise.”
He was right.
No matter how long the night, day would come. Another day would begin beneath a sun as bright as ever—or brighter.
Tonight, they would eliminate one of the great threats hanging over the Central Plains.
“Though a wise man should never be too certain… I, Zhuge Feng, have no doubt.”
He had put everything he had into this plan. For a long time, Zhuge Feng had waited, deceiving not only the enemy but even his allies.
All for today. For this very moment.
“Wherever the traitors go, they won’t escape death.”
Zhuge Feng spoke with conviction.
They had gathered each province’s elite at every Moving Formation they had found. Wherever Dark Heaven’s dagger was aimed, its forces would be dead before the night was over.
That was especially true of Shanxi, which Zhuge Feng had judged, alongside Henan, to be the enemy’s most likely target.
A giant called the Azure Sky Sword King was leading the forces there.
“It is all thanks to Your Majesty’s help.”
The Son of Heaven gave a quiet laugh at Zhuge Feng’s respectful thanks.
“Is that so? I wonder if the Commander agrees.”
Baek Yeon, standing beside him, answered without hesitation.
“Of course not. They did all the hard work. The Imperial House only lent a hand at the end.”
Zhuge Feng’s mouth fell open at the unexpected answer, but the Son of Heaven’s smile deepened.
“Why?”
“Don’t ask when you already know, Your Majesty.”
“That’s a rather irreverent way to speak. You couldn’t even stop the traitor just now.”
Baek Yeon frowned.
“That was because Your Majesty kept insisting you would deal with him yourself. What, are you going to strip me of my office?”
“That would be inconvenient. I still need you.”
“Your Majesty’s wisdom grows deeper by the day. As your servant, I could not be happier. Though after all the trouble I go through, it’s a shame my salary hasn’t budged in years.”
“My, my. Is that any way for the Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard to speak? We’ve recovered the traitors’ wealth, so I’ll double your salary.”
“Perhaps I’m getting old. My armor feels heavy today.”
“Triple it.”
“I am overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s grace, Your Majesty.”
Baek Yeon gave a crisp salute, then glanced up at the Son of Heaven.
As if on cue, sovereign and subject burst out laughing. They laughed so heartily that Zhuge Feng, watching the absurd exchange, was left speechless.
But the man born of the noblest bloodline in the world did not mind in the slightest.
The old general who had guarded the Imperial House for decades had every right to speak that way. Besides, everything he had said was true.
“Yes. The Commander is right. I only lent a hand at the end. That isn’t enough to repay even a tenth of the debt I owe.”
The Son of Heaven smiled at the bewildered Zhuge Feng.
In the past, when life had been like walking on thin ice, danger had lurked on every side and he had fought against illness. He had not been able to smile like this.
But now things were different.
No—Jin Taekyung had made them different. He had changed everything and restored the laughter the Son of Heaven had lost long ago.
The Son of Heaven knew that better than anyone. He could not accept Zhuge Feng’s praise, even as a courtesy.
He was alive because of Jin Taekyung. The realm could weather another crisis because of him, too.
“It’s troubling. How am I supposed to repay a debt that keeps growing?”
At the Son of Heaven’s rueful murmur, Zhuge Feng’s gaze grew serious.
“Perhaps… we’re all wondering the same thing.”
The three of them turned to look west.
They could see nothing there, yet each seemed to glimpse one man somewhere thousands of li2 away. Like the faint light beginning to spread over their shoulders.
“The sun’s risen.”
“Yes. Day is breaking.”
The Son of Heaven blinked as though he were seeing light for the first time.
Perhaps it was only his imagination.
The basin lay silent amid pools of blood, thousands of corpses piled like mountains. Yet the sunlight reaching across them seemed brighter than ever.
“Bright.”
Darkness scattered. Light blazed.
The Son of Heaven fervently hoped the countless days ahead would be the same.
And that Jin Taekyung’s fate, which would surely once again leave him standing at the edge of life and death, casting everything he had aside, would be bright as well.
“Great Ming.”
With that new name for the nation, one that would light the way ahead for everyone, the Son of Heaven of the Great Ming Empire let out the breath swelling in his chest.
“Baek Yeon.”
“Your orders, Your Majesty?”
“I think I’ll have to quadruple your salary. What lies ahead will be difficult.”
“What do you mean…?”
“I will not return to the palace.”
“…!”
“Tell every person in the realm: I will not sit upon the throne until those vile traitors lurking beyond the desert have been rooted out.”
The old general stared at the Son of Heaven, eyes wide. Then he smiled and knelt on one knee.
“I, Baek Yeon, Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, accept Your Majesty’s imperial decree.”
That day, countless messenger pigeons and mounted couriers crossed the skies and lands of the realm.
Carried by wings and hooves, the imperial decree spread across the realm in just a few days.
No—it shook the realm to its core.
Murim, the common people, even the government.
“By imperial decree!”
Messengers posted proclamations bearing the imperial seal wherever they went. At last, everyone learned of the blade that had been poised at their throats.
And of the one-sided, momentous victory that had begun and ended in a single night.
But victory was not all the Son of Heaven wished to announce.
He would lead an expedition himself.
Back when he was known as the Fourth Prince, the Son of Heaven had already been judged to have the makings of a conqueror. Now, under the new name of Great Ming, he ordered the Imperial Guards to assemble, and his destination was exactly what everyone had expected.
Xinjiang.
The former stronghold of the Demonic Cult, beyond the scorching desert.
The spearheads of the whole realm were aimed at the leader of the traitors, who dared to call himself the Lord of Heaven.
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