The dead silence inside the Cao Clan's pavilion stretched thin, heavy with the weight of an imperial mandate that had just shattered a month's worth of intricate plotting.
Patriarch Cao fell back into his chair, his previous anger completely replaced by a hollow, paralyzing dread.
"An Imperial Procurement Right... backed directly by the Empire. This isn't just about selling pills anymore. This is a baseline reshuffling of power. Whichever faction claims victory will become the absolute hegemon of Crimson Iron City. The other two will be driven to irrelevance, if not outright execution."
He looked toward Shen Yu, hoping for the mysterious strategist's usual calm, calculating reassurance.
But Shen Yu remained seated, his face an unreadable mask of cold stone.
His eyes stared right through the fine porcelain of his teacup.
'The Empire,' Shen Yu thought, his mind working with furious, cold precision.
'Why now? Why a localized tournament in a border city like Crimson Iron?'
