Mount Ziwei.
A figure crashed down from the sky with a thunderous impact.
"Martial Saint!"
"Grand Commander Meng?!"
Xia Cong and the others froze, staring at the man holding a long spear. None of them understood what was happening.
"Out of my way!"
Meng Quji charged straight into the crowd toward Minister of War Gao Bo.
Those who tried to block him weren't killed—he simply waved his arm, and they were all blasted aside like leaves in a gale.
"General Meng?"
Gao Bo frowned. "Forget me! If you can, head to the sleeping palace now!"
"Lord Gao!"
Meng Quji grabbed him by the collar. "You lied to me?!"
"Y–You… General Meng, what are you saying?"
Gao Bo looked bewildered. "When have I ever lied to you?"
"Yunzhou!"
Meng Quji's roar echoed across the mountain. "You knew what they were going to do back then, didn't you? But you didn't stop it! You'd better tell me the truth!"
"I… I—" Gao Bo stammered, unable to meet his gaze. Finally, he muttered, "When I found out, it was already too late. Even if I tried to stop it, I could've only saved a portion of the border troops."
"So you did know," Meng Quji said coldly. "You knew, but you didn't intervene."
"That's right!" Gao Bo said, straightening. "Whether a thousand men die or ten thousand die, death is death! Let the northern frontier burn—it works in our favor! Now we hold their crimes in our hands!
"When this is over, we'll expose everything and 'purge the emperor's side.' Our actions will be justified, and history will remember us as righteous, not rebels!"
"Whether a thousand die or ten thousand die…"
Meng Quji repeated the words again and again, each time colder, until he finally laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. His eyes turned blood-red as he clenched his teeth. "So in Lord Gao's eyes, our brothers on the frontier are just numbers, huh?!"
Gao Bo froze.
He didn't even seem to understand what he'd said wrong.
"Gao Bo!" Meng Quji shouted, his voice shaking with fury. "You court officials fight your petty battles, but why gamble our lives for it?! We're the ones spilling blood for you on the front lines!"
His voice cracked.
"I, Meng Ergou, don't understand lofty ideals. I can't talk about saving the people or serving the world. I only know this—when my brothers give you their lives, even if you won't help us, you sure as hell shouldn't stab us in the back!"
"Is it really worth all this?"
Gao Bo's patience snapped. "General Meng, what madness has taken you?"
"'Is it worth it?' Hah… good question."
Meng Quji sneered, his hand loosening from Gao Bo's collar. "You're all the same. So what if one side wins? What difference does it make to us? Who we die for—what does it even matter?"
"You've gone mad!"
Gao Bo glared. "You're a master of military strategy—don't you understand there's no turning back now? If you act now, you'll throw everything away! The palace awaits! Once we succeed, you'll be a hero of the realm!
"But if we fail, both our heads will roll!
"Or are you planning to switch sides—to join Yan Liang and the loyalists?
"In the end, you have to choose one!"
"Choose one, huh?"
Meng Quji's laughter turned feral. "Then what if I choose neither?"
"At a time like this?"
Gao Bo's voice rose in disbelief. "General Meng, do you really think you can just walk away now?"
"I never said I would."
"What do you mean by that?"
Before Gao Bo could react, a burst of internal force exploded before him, sending his hat flying and scattering his hair in disarray. When he blinked his eyes open, Meng Quji was already gone—vanished more than a hundred zhang away.
But he wasn't escaping.
He was charging up Mount Ziwei—toward the imperial palace.
"Rumble—!"
At that very moment, the entire mountain began to quake violently. Trees toppled, hillsides cracked and slid apart, and fissures split across the stone roads. It was as if a natural disaster had struck—the whole of Mount Ziwei seemed ready to collapse.
"What—what's happening?!"
Even the Eastern Garrison troops and the Golden Crow Guards, locked in fierce battle, stopped fighting.
Inside the sleeping palace—
"Father Emperor, prepare to die!"
After speaking those words, the Crown Prince had fully transformed into someone—or something—else.
His body flickered between substance and illusion, wrapped in layers of purple and crimson light. Raising both hands, he drew forth a sword of pure Incense God Power, its blade blazing with divine radiance. Gripping it, he stepped toward the emperor.
"You… what are you doing?!"
Seated cross-legged on his mat, Emperor Longqing's calm finally broke. His pupils shifted wildly, countless emotions flashing through them, fusing into something complex and indescribable. "My most filial son… would kill his own father?"
"Your Majesty, beware!"
Huang Hong gathered his true strength in his palm, a force like a deep-sea vortex, and struck toward the Crown Prince. The latter raised his sword with one hand—purple light flashed—and the air exploded.
Huang Hong's attack shattered.
He spun backward, smashing into a pillar, and when he hit the ground, a long, bloody gash split his body from forehead to waist. If not for his protective qi, he would've been cleaved in two.
Even so, he didn't give up.
Coughing blood, he hurled the Nation-Stabilizing Imperial Seal forward.
The ancient jade seal rang with a deep hum, descending like a demon-suppressing tower toward the possessed Crown Prince.
But this time, the seal did not crush its target.
When it collided with the Incense God Power, the two forces clashed and locked together, evenly matched. Soon, the seal was forced back, losing power after several impacts before finally dropping to the ground with a dull thud—rolling to a stop at Emperor Longqing's feet.
Lü Ji struck several times in succession, but even he was repelled, powerless against the Crown Prince's strength.
"Your Majesty, cough… strike back!" Huang Hong cried.
"I will not."
Emperor Longqing sat unmoving. "If my son wishes to kill me, let him. I will die, but I will never raise my hand against my own blood."
Huang Hong's heart sank.
Even commoners said that 'family disgrace must not be made public.' For the royal family, it was far worse.
A son killing his father was already a disgrace beyond measure.
If the father fought back, the dynasty's face would be utterly ruined.
"Come then! Kill me—and take the throne!"
Emperor Longqing lifted his chin. "Even if you are wrong, the ancestors themselves will punish you from beyond the grave!"
Everyone present stood frozen in disbelief.
Even now, the emperor refused to fight back?
'For the sake of royal dignity,' Huang Hong thought bitterly, 'he truly endures.'
Outside the sleeping palace, the shaking of the earth only grew worse. The mountain roared like a beast on the verge of breaking apart.
Chen Sanshi crouched on a trembling tree branch, clearly seeing everything happening inside.
The Crown Prince really hid himself deep.
Even he hadn't noticed anything wrong before.
Through his Qi Observation Technique, Chen could clearly confirm that the old man had always appeared to be just an ordinary human.
Which meant that the Incense God Sect's divine art could allow an ordinary person to rapidly gain such terrifying combat strength in a short time. That's probably why they performed those living sacrifices—to fuel this transformation.
From the beginning of the incident until now, only about half an hour had passed.
But Chen didn't rush in. He kept watching quietly from the shadows.
"Rustle, rustle…"
Just then, he noticed another group appear at the corner of the palace square.
"So lively," muttered Cao Zhi, hiding behind a boulder as he peered toward the hall. "Looks like even without my help, this Ziwei Ceremony isn't going to be dull at all. Tell me—what trick is the Incense God Sect using? How did they make my sickly brother this powerful?"
"According to the latest report, something about the 'Righteous God Path' and the 'Evil God Path,'" said Zhang Zhao. "When do we make our move?"
"No hurry. Let's wait. Right now, this isn't something we can meddle with."
As they spoke, the ground trembled even harder.
"What's going on now?!"
Cao Zhi braced his hand against the ground. "What about the underground passage? They still haven't come back?"
"Young Lord!"
"Something's wrong!"
Two surviving disciples from the Seeking Immortals Tower stumbled back, pale and shaking.
"Where's Eunuch Lao?"
Cao Zhi sensed something amiss. "Why are there only two of you left? What happened?"
"It was Zhang Laizitou! Zhang Laizitou!"
The disciples' faces were full of terror. "He used Heavenly Fire and burned Eunuch Lao and the others alive! Then he took away all of the Founding Emperor's relics!"
Cao Zhi frowned. "Where did such a powerful cultivator suddenly come from?"
"Grandfather Emperor!"
Cao Fan looked at the old man in Daoist robes, his heart heavy with conflict. "Father never meant to harm you! After channeling divine power, he lost control. If you abdicate now, it's still not too late!"
At those words, Emperor Longqing's eyes turned cold. He glared at the black-robed monk. "You wicked monk—what did you do to my son?"
"His Highness is the High Priest of our Incense God Sect!"
The black-robed monk leaned on his staff for support. "For the people of the world, His Highness abandoned the Righteous God Path to cultivate the Evil God Path! Even so, he never used mass sacrifices to extend his life—otherwise, how could he still be so frail and sickly?
"His Highness acts for the nation and its people. Shouldn't Your Majesty feel shame and step down?"
Everything after that went unheard.
Emperor Longqing slowly raised his head. Majesty radiated from his aging face. Each word he spoke carried the weight of thunder. "I should've known. My son, always filial and respectful, could not have changed overnight into such a defiant monster.
"So it was you demons, stirring trouble in the shadows!
"You first spread chaos in the court, and now you use foul sorcery to control my son. Your hearts are wicked beyond redemption, and your crimes unforgivable!"
With just a few words, everything that happened tonight shifted—from a palace coup into a demonic rebellion.
No matter how far things went from here, the royal family's dignity was now preserved.
Chen Sanshi couldn't help thinking, The imperial clan really loves making things complicated. Even before fighting, they have to come up with a grand excuse first.
"Old Emperor!"
The Crown Prince's voice changed completely—it no longer sounded human, but like something from the depths of hell. "Kneel before me now, and perhaps I'll let you die with your body intact."
"What foul creature are you?"
Emperor Longqing met his eyes calmly. "Name yourself."
"Foul creature?"
The Crown Prince let out a laugh that was neither male nor female, cold as death. "I am a god! You are but a mortal king, dabbling in scraps of immortal art—and you dare speak to me so arrogantly?"
"Your Majesty!" shouted Huang Hong, voice echoing through the hall. "Please, invoke the Longevity Emperor Spirit! Subdue the demon and save His Highness!"
Emperor Longqing's gaze sharpened. "I have cultivated for more than forty years and never once used force. But today… perhaps it's time to test this old hand."
Before anyone could react, the Crown Prince—who'd been standing over a hundred steps away—suddenly appeared right in front of him. The sword of divine incense power in his grip fell straight toward the emperor's head.
At last, Emperor Longqing moved.
He swung the horsetail whisk draped across his arm, releasing blinding golden light. Though it was only a whisk, under that light it clashed with the purple sword as if steel met steel.
The two forces collided.
The old emperor's robes fluttered as he drifted backward, landing steadily on the ground. The Crown Prince also stabilized himself midair, face like carved stone.
"Swish—"
Emperor Longqing flicked his whisk again.
This time, countless golden curtains dropped from the ceiling of the hall, perfectly veiling both him and the prince. From that moment, no one could see the fight—only the thunderous explosions and flashes of light breaking through the silk.
Clearly, those curtains had been prepared long ago.
Even now, Emperor Longqing sought to hide his true strength from the public.
But through Chen Sanshi's Qi Observation Technique, both men's qi appeared equally dense. Judging by that, neither could overpower the other quickly. Yet both were clearly holding something back.
Outside the curtains, Lü Ji and the others clashed again—their second round of high-level combat tearing the palace apart. Half the hall was already ruined, and by the time this battle ended, the entire building would likely be destroyed.
They fought from inside the hall to the courtyard beyond.
"Buzz—"
From the same incense burner that had poured divine energy into the Crown Prince earlier, streams of purple incense light erupted once more, showering down like a storm of falling stars upon the Incense God Sect's followers.
They had been on the verge of collapse, but now, empowered by renewed divine force, they roared back to life, pushing their enemies to the limit once again.
But soon, the incense power ran out.
The burner itself cracked inch by inch before exploding outright, tearing through the curtain and sending a blast of divine energy to aid the Crown Prince. Thunder rolled, wind howled, and flames burst from every corner of the hall.
Within a few breaths, the whole of Mount Ziwei shook harder than ever.
Even the tree Chen Sanshi had been hiding in tilted dangerously before toppling completely. He was forced to relocate immediately.
And in his eyes—
From the southeastern cavern, a surge of pure energy erupted skyward—like a colorless rainbow arching across the heavens. It curved high, stretching toward the imperial sleeping palace, as if it were a massive cord pulling something from within.
The moment turbulence broke out inside the palace, that "cord" began to retract, trying to draw something back into itself. With a thunderous roar that split mountains and cracked the earth, a flash of golden light burst out from deep within the mountain. A dragon's cry resounded through the nine heavens.
"What—what is that?!"
"A dragon!"
"A real dragon!"
"Look!"
"A True Dragon has appeared!"
All across Mount Ziwei, both Eastern Garrison soldiers and Golden Crow Guards, even the palace eunuchs, lifted their eyes to the heavens.
Even the common folk in Taihu Prefecture saw it.
"So that's the Dragon Abyss Sword left behind by the Founding Emperor?"
Cao Zhi stared upward at the glowing sky. "Just how divine was the Founding Emperor, to have left behind such a treasure?"
"Boom—!"
Before everyone's eyes, the Dragon Abyss Sword cleaved through half the palace roof and plunged into the sleeping hall.
Golden light blazed. Thunder rolled.
A few breaths later, calm returned.
The golden curtain that had obscured everyone's sight disintegrated into powder, revealing the scene inside.
The Crown Prince stood hunched, leaning on a cane. He bore no visible wounds, but his white hair hung loose, and his face looked ten years older.
Ten steps away, Emperor Longqing sat cross-legged on a cushion, hands forming a seal. His face was pale and weary. Before him, the sword shaped like a true dragon was embedded in the floor, glowing faintly with divine light—silent now, yet still powerful.
Outside the hall, the battle was drawing to an end.
After the incense burner's final burst of strange divine energy, both sides had fought each other to exhaustion.
Even Lü Ji was badly injured, barely able to support himself with his Fangtian Halberd. His meridians were clearly damaged. Across from him, the black-robed monk still stood, bloodied and gasping, neither able to retreat.
It was the same elsewhere.
The eunuchs, Fan Tianfa, and Changsun Xusheng were all in similar shape. Every warrior of Martial Saint level was now a spent arrow.
"The emperor's injured!"
The black-robed monk, wary of Lü Ji's spear, shouted as blood gushed from his mouth. "Go now! Once the old emperor dies, victory is ours!"
He pulled a final prayer bead from his sleeve and crushed it. A shimmering barrier spread outward, trapping Changsun Xusheng, the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonies, and several death guards within.
"Hall Master Miao, take the remaining men and finish it!"
At this point, those below Martial Saint level were the only ones still moving freely.
Because they hadn't fought opponents of equal power, most were either dead or lightly wounded. Soon, more than twenty cultists gathered and rushed toward the sleeping hall.
But just as Hall Master Miao stepped across the threshold, a piercing whistle tore through the air.
He turned sharply, swinging his sword—meeting a whistling arrow head-on.
"Chiu—!"
In that instant, the sky was filled with the sound of bowstrings.
"Black Armored Cavalry—protect His Majesty!"
Everyone turned toward the source of the voice. A young general holding a long spear led a tide of black-armored soldiers charging straight into the Ziwei Palace.
"Attack!"
Hall Master Miao shouted for two men to block the entrance while he dashed toward the emperor.
The young general's spear moved in a blur—one sweep, and two cultists fell dead before they could even scream.
"Courting death!"
Hall Master Miao roared in rage and counterattacked. The qi on his soft sword merged with divine incense power, turning into a serpent of venomous smoke that clashed with the young man's spear like a sea dragon breaking the waves. The grinding sound was sharp enough to tear eardrums.
The serpent struck the spear, yet Chen Sanshi's arm flared with pain. He staggered back several steps, smashing through the wooden doors before he steadied himself. Even with his Vajra Body, his bones hummed under the impact.
From the flow of qi in the opponent's body, Chen could tell this incense hall master's martial cultivation was at the Profound Manifestation Realm (beginner stage). His divine incense power was unknown in depth, but most of his internal energy seemed depleted.
That was exactly why Chen dared to face him alone.
The enemy's strength was only a level higher—perfect for a test of his limits.
Lately, he had relied too much on spells.
But today's battle had proved something clearly—martial arts were not weak.
Especially Martial Saints—each one could face spell cultivators head-on, without necessarily being outmatched.
Before stepping onto the "Path of Immortality," one must never forget the foundation.
Fortunately, he hadn't grown rusty.
After three to five exchanges, Chen began to grasp the rhythm of the enemy's strange swordsmanship. Yet the suppression of higher cultivation and the incense god's lingering power made it a struggle.
To the onlookers, it looked like a desperate fight—a lone soldier throwing himself into battle to protect the emperor.
"Hm?"
Emperor Longqing watched the clash with faint surprise in his eyes, and even a hint of emotion. 'Sun Xiangzong was the same in his youth,' he thought. 'Old as he was, he truly found himself a worthy disciple.'
"Your Majesty, go!"
Chen Sanshi pushed through to the thirtieth exchange.
With the Qilin Heart's effect guiding his instincts, he had completely learned the enemy's attack patterns and easily spotted openings.
Hall Master Miao, meanwhile, had run dry of his purple incense qi. Forced to fight using only his martial strength, even his gang qi was failing. His defense crumbled—spear shadows closed in from all sides, a net of death encircling him.
Meridian-Connecting!
This man was only at the Meridian-Connecting Realm!
Yet even as a Profound Manifestation Realm cultivator, Hall Master Miao was struggling to keep up.
"An opening!"
In the midst of their fierce exchange, the pressure pressing down on him grew heavier and heavier. At last, he spotted a flaw in his opponent's spear technique. Without hesitation, he thrust his sword straight in. The gang qi tore through Chen Sanshi's shoulder armor, split open his Vajra Body, and left behind a bloody hole.
In return, he only suffered a shallow cut on his arm—barely worth noticing. But in the next instant, a terrifying surge of force burst through that tiny wound, flooding into his body like a living beast. It tore through his muscles, smashed into his bones, then surged deeper toward his vital points.
True Dragon Rampage!
True Dragon Force!
"Damn it!"
Hall Master Miao panicked, using his other hand to block the acupoint and suppress the raging True Dragon Force inside him. But just as he did, Chen Sanshi's spear pierced straight through his heart. The spear twisted slowly, grinding his organs into pulp while even more True Dragon Force poured in like a flood of serpents.
His hand slackened. The soft sword dropped from his grasp. He tried one last time to seize the spear shaft, but his strength was gone. His knees buckled, head drooping, as life drained from his eyes.
"Chi-la—!"
From behind, several Incense God Sect cultists screamed madly and hacked at Chen Sanshi's back. Blades crashed into his Vajra Body, slicing through flesh and leaving deep, bloody gashes.
"What a… what a fierce and loyal warrior!"
The gravely wounded Eunuch Huang Hong watched in awe and horror.
Chen Sanshi let out a roar, pulled his Mountain-Suppressing Sword from his waist, and cleaved down the attackers, cutting through them like wheat before turning again toward the assassins aiming for the emperor. His entire body was drenched in blood, yet he fought on.
"Kill him!"
From the flank, several Golden Crow Guard officers who had sided with the Crown Prince charged in.
"Father! Lord Chen!"
At that moment, the Twelfth Prince Cao Zhi arrived with a troop of Embroidered Uniform Guards, blocking the Golden Crow Guards. "Lord Chen! Take my father away, quickly!"
"Your Majesty, we must go!"
Covered head to toe in blood, Chen Sanshi rushed to Emperor Longqing, helping him to his feet. "The Black Armored Cavalry will arrive any moment. The rebellion is nearly over—please, Your Majesty, protect your sacred health!"
"Take the sword."
Emperor Longqing did not refuse.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Clang!"
Chen Sanshi lifted the Dragon Abyss Sword, and with a single sweeping slash, cleaved a Golden Crow Guard in half—armor and all. The blade cut smoother than silk, sharper than his Mountain-Suppressing Sword by far.
But even holding it in his hand, he couldn't truly control it.
The true master of the sword remained the emperor.
Yet the link between the emperor's qi and the Dragon Abyss Sword seemed unstable—turbulent.
It appeared even His Majesty hadn't fully mastered the sword's power.
Still, Chen could sense vast spiritual force within the emperor's body.
In truth, the emperor had not used his full strength this night.
When Chen first saw the Dragon Abyss Sword awaken, he already knew the outcome was decided. The mutual destruction he'd expected was impossible now. So he'd immediately called for his men to protect the emperor.
The emperor had always shared a connection with the Dragon Abyss Sword.
He had seen it clearly in the underground cavern.
But why hadn't the emperor gone there to claim the weapon himself?
Chen had his suspicions—either the emperor couldn't sense its exact location until it was fully refined, or… it was deliberate.
When the Dragon Abyss Sword appeared, the commotion was so massive it would shake the world.
And once that happened, every "rebel" would come crawling into the open.
Tonight's coup involved countless figures—officials and officers from every corner of court and country. Even a godlike emperor couldn't identify all the traitors one by one… unless—
They revealed themselves.
Before coming to Mount Ziwei, the emperor must have already suspected that the Crown Prince's faction was preparing to rebel.
Even if not fully predicted, he had clearly prepared for it.
After tonight, the Crown Prince's forty-year regency—his influence carefully built up over decades—would be wiped away completely.
The court would be reshaped. For a long time to come, no one would dare challenge the emperor's will again.
He had won.
Chen Sanshi guarded the emperor, escorting him from the sleeping palace toward the Hall of Nurtured Heart.
The coup was nearing its end.
Meanwhile, Meng Quji had arrived at the palace grounds. He charged through without distinction, striking down anyone who blocked his path—Crown Prince's men or the emperor's alike. Each spear thrust took another life as he marched toward the sleeping palace.
If helping either side meant betraying his brothers, then he would help no one.
There was no way back now.
Better to die fighting, to kill them all if he could—and avenge his fallen brothers at the frontier.
Suddenly, a figure blocked his path.
"Get out of my way!"
Meng Quji roared. His Snake Spear swept forth, wrapped in a rolling storm of qi, colliding head-on with a Green Dragon Crescent Blade.
The man holding the blade was flung backward, tumbling dozens of zhang before managing to land.
"To take a Martial Saint's strike head-on and still stand… impressive," Meng muttered. Then his eyes widened. "Deng Feng? What are you doing here?"
"Stopping you, of course."
Deng Feng glanced toward the sleeping palace. "The battle's over, General. If you go any farther now, it'll only be a pointless death."
"So what?!"
Meng Quji glared coldly, his tone filled with hostility. "Deng Feng, if you want to live, then get the hell out of my way!"
But Deng Feng didn't move aside. Instead, he drove the Green Dragon Crescent Blade into the ground, the blade's edge quivering as it sank deep into the stone—a sign he meant no hostility.
"General Meng," he said calmly, "I heard everything you told Lord Gao earlier."
"You're acting like this now, all reckless and furious, because you can't find any meaning in staying alive. You just want to die fast and clean, don't you? Tell me, am I wrong?"
Meng Quji stayed silent.
"To be honest," Deng Feng continued, his voice low and steady, "not long ago, I felt the same way. I was lost. Didn't know where to go or what the future meant anymore."
"Enough nonsense!" Meng snapped. "You're just afraid of death, surrendering to save your own skin. Don't pretend to be some righteous man!"
He turned, ready to leave.
Deng Feng called after him, "General Meng! Since you despise the court's two warring factions, why not break away from both—and join a third?"
That made Meng stop in his tracks.
"A third faction? You mean Prince Qin, Prince Qi, or the Sixth Prince about to be released from house arrest? What difference is there between them and the Yan or Gao factions?"
"No."
Deng Feng's voice remained calm. "None of them."
"None of them…"
Meng narrowed his eyes at him. Then a thought flashed across his mind. "Wait—you don't mean… Chen Sanshi, do you?"
Deng Feng's silence said everything.
Meng scoffed. "Ridiculous! He's still an official of the court—what difference does that make? Everyone knows his ties to the Yan faction are questionable at best."
"Commander Chen is different," Deng Feng said firmly. "He's not involved in their filthy power struggles. Any connection he has is just political formality—nothing more.
"If he were like those hypocrites in the capital, fighting for power and wealth, I'd never risk my name following him. But look at what he's done since arriving in Taihu Prefecture—he spent nearly all his own silver to feed the starving. Tell me, how many officials would ever do that?"
Meng knew of this.
Chen Sanshi had come to him once asking for help, but he'd turned him away.
Between saving civilians and feeding his own men, Meng had chosen his brothers first.
"Commander Chen treats his men like family," Deng Feng went on. "When he first rose in Poyang County, he gathered a handful of brothers—not one of them particularly gifted. Yet to this day, they all serve in the Black Armored Army. Every month, Commander Chen buys them tonics out of his own pay. Whenever a soldier dies in battle, he personally ensures the family receives the highest compensation allowed.
"Tell me, could a man like that ever be like those court bastards—the ones who caused the Ten Days of Yunzhou and treated border soldiers like numbers on a ledger?"
"Chen Sanshi is remarkable, no doubt."
Meng nodded slightly. "But what's your point?"
"Don't you see, General Meng?" Deng Feng's eyes burned with conviction. "If the court's filthy, then leave it behind! Follow Commander Chen instead!
"One day, we'll 'raise our three-foot sword and sweep all filth from under heaven!'"
"Wait…"
Meng frowned, a chill running through him.
He hadn't thought too deeply before—but now, something felt wrong. "What exactly are you planning?"
This wasn't just forming alliances—it was something far more dangerous.
No… this wasn't party-building. It was forging a secret faction outside the court's reach.
Deng Feng smiled faintly. "That reaction is the same one I had at first. But I can promise you this—Commander Chen isn't like the rest. If you join us, you'll understand soon enough."
Meng snorted. "Even if you've got your plans, you're too small to matter. Once this battle ends, Chen Sanshi will command, what—ten thousand men at most? Just a single regiment. What can he possibly do with that?"
"That's why we need you, General Meng."
Deng Feng's tone grew solemn. "With you on board, Commander Chen will have two Martial Saints under his command. And more than that—it'll be your one real chance to avenge the fallen of Yunzhou.
"If I recall right, you had several sworn brothers there… and a woman you loved. They all died unjustly, didn't they?"
He took a step forward.
"So tell me—how many people can you kill if you rush in now? A dozen? A hundred? Will that be enough?"
"If you want revenge, then make it clean. Thorough."
Those brothers…
Meng could still see their faces.
They'd sworn their oath years ago. None of them were as talented as him—the best of them had only reached the rank of assistant general, others mere captains or centurions. The woman… she'd been the sister of one of those brothers. None of them had high status, so when they died in Yunzhou, the court hadn't even blinked.
"How do you know all this?" Meng's voice dropped low. "I've barely spoken of it to anyone."
"General Meng," Deng Feng said, his tone grave. "Have you forgotten? I was stationed at the border, serving under you. It was my job to uncover the enemy's details—learning yours was hardly difficult.
"I've said everything that needs saying. Whether you want to live and avenge your dead—or die here for nothing—that's your choice."
Meng closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath.
When he opened them again, resolve burned within. "Fine. If what you say is true, if you and Commander Chen mean what you claim, then I'll serve you. But there's one problem."
He gave a bitter smile. "I've made enemies on both sides tonight. Not even Commander Chen—or his master—could protect me now."
"Then hide for a while," Deng Feng said simply.
Deng Feng explained calmly, "A Martial Saint can take care of his own survival. I'll report everything to Commander Chen later—he'll decide what to do next."
As they spoke, a faint noise came from the distance—someone was rapidly approaching.
Jiang Yuanbo!
"This place isn't safe," Deng Feng said quickly. "Find your own way to stay alive for now."
"Fine."
The fury in Meng Quji's chest finally cooled, and the madness faded from his eyes. He used every bit of his strength to flee into the darkness. A man known for his caution and discipline—acting like this for the first time in his life.
The Crown Prince's faction began collapsing.
Once the Black Armored Army entered the fray, their defeat was sealed.
Lingxuzi died on the spot.
The heavily wounded Yunxiaozi fled with Cao Fan and a few attendants.
Meanwhile, Chen Sanshi escorted Emperor Longqing safely to the Hall of Nurtured Heart, then summoned one thousand soldiers to guard it. He knelt and returned the Dragon Abyss Sword with both hands. "Your Majesty, are you hurt?"
"A small wound. It's nothing."
The emperor glanced at Chen's shoulder, where blood still streamed steadily. "You're the one who looks far worse."
"My life's hard to take, Your Majesty—it's nothing serious."
Chen had already gauged his injuries: surface wounds, painful but not crippling. With medicine, he'd recover soon enough, and even if he had to fight again, it wouldn't slow him down. His bones and meridians were intact.
The doors of the great hall burst open.
Jiang Yuanbo rushed in, voice loud with guilt. "Your Majesty! This servant came too late to protect you!"
"Commander Jiang, you've come just in time."
Chen Sanshi bowed. "Your Majesty's safety will be more secure with Commander Jiang by your side. Allow me to go outside and hunt down the remaining rebels!"
"Good."
Jiang Yuanbo nodded solemnly. "Lord Chen, you've done enough already."
Meanwhile, deep in the forest—
"Father!"
"Your Highness, hurry!"
Cao Fan stumbled through the trees, looking back every few steps at the flames engulfing Mount Ziwei's palace. "Where's my father?"
"Young master, don't be foolish!"
Yunxiaozi hissed, "The Crown Prince is still alive. His Majesty won't kill his own son—not outright. At most, he'll be confined. But you're still young. Do you really plan to spend the rest of your life locked in the Clan Hall?"
"That's right, young master," Eunuch Feng said through tears. "Before this uprising began, His Highness told me—if something happens, take you to the Incense God Sect. The Great Priest there will protect you for life."
"Chen Sanshi again! Always him!"
Cao Fan's heart twisted painfully.
They'd been so close to victory—so close!
But at the last moment, the Black Armored Army had appeared and crushed their final hope.
"If you want revenge, young master," Yunxiaozi urged, "then come with us to the sect. Train well, gain strength. One day, you can return and kill him with your own hands!"
At that moment, a shadow appeared at the edge of the forest.
"Who's there?!"
Eunuch Feng shouted sharply.
"It's me."
A familiar, ugly face stepped into view.
Everyone exhaled in relief.
"Zhang Laizitou!"
Yunxiaozi's expression twisted with anger and fear. "Why did you abandon us earlier?!"
"Hmph."
"The Dragon Abyss Sword was there—I knew something was wrong!"
"Zhang Laizitou" (Chen Sanshi in disguise) stared coldly at them. "Where are you planning to go?"
"To the Incense God Sect," Yunxiaozi answered quickly. "Does Lord Zhang wish to come along? You also cultivate the Incense God Path. The sect has suffered great losses tonight—if you come, you could easily become the Vice Sect Leader!"
"Go with you…"
Chen paused, as if thinking. "And what do I get in return?"
"There's plenty to gain!" Yunxiaozi said hurriedly. "Come on, we'll talk as we walk—there's no time to waste!"
"Wait!"
Cao Fan cut in. "Lord Zhang, before we go… can you first do what you promised me?"
"Oh?" Chen asked, his tone faint. "You mean…?"
"Chen Sanshi!"
Cao Fan's face twisted with hate. "He and I are mortal enemies! Lord Zhang, as long as you kill him for me, all of the Founding Emperor's relics will be yours! Killing a mere Meridian-Connecting cultivator like him shouldn't even take effort, right?"
"You're right," Chen said quietly. "I'll take you down the mountain first."
He stepped ahead of them, leading the way through the trees.
Then, without warning, he drew his sword.
The first strike cut down two attendants instantly. The second unleashed the last of his Sword Qi Technique, slicing through both Yunxiaozi and Eunuch Feng in one blinding flash.
In the blink of an eye, only Cao Fan remained.
"Lord Zhang—why?! Why are you doing this?!"
Cao Fan's voice cracked with shock and fury. "I gave you everything! The Founding Emperor relics, the promise of wealth—and even they wanted to make you Vice Sect Leader!
"You gave me your word! You swore to bring me Chen Sanshi's head!
"How can you go back on your word like this?!"
"Boy."
Chen Sanshi's tone deepened. "Lift your head. Look carefully—and tell me, who do you think I am?"
The voice changed. It became frighteningly familiar.
The man reached up and wiped a hand across his face—revealing another visage beneath.
"You…"
Cao Fan's eyes widened in horror. "It's… you?! Zhang Laizitou—it's been you all along?! You tricked everyone?!"
In that instant, everything became clear.
Every plot, every death, every turn of fate.
The biggest winner of this chaos—wasn't the emperor, nor the Yan faction.
It was Chen Sanshi standing before him.
"Crack—!"
The sword fell.
Cao Fan's head hit the ground.
Chen Sanshi calmly searched through the corpses.
At last, he found what he wanted—a rolled sheepskin scroll hidden in the folds of Cao Fan's robe.