CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47: THE DECLARATION FO WAR

A month had passed since the battle with assaisans organization.

The towering silhouette of the Gravitational Training Chamber Tower stood like an obsidian monolith against the cloud-streaked sky, its ancient stone walls faintly glowing with golden inscriptions that pulsed like a heartbeat. Around its colossal base, Sanatan Flame Sect Memebers stood in neat rows, their robes fluttering in the faint mountain breeze. Elders stood at the front — faces calm, but eyes sharp — their presence anchoring the gathering like unshakable pillars.

The air was heavy with anticipation.

Elder Wu broke the silence, his voice low and steady.

"How long has it been?"

Lin Shu stepped forward, glancing at the towering gates. "Around... thirty-two days."

Elder Liya narrowed her eyes, then suddenly smiled faintly.

"Look... he’s coming out."

Every gaze turned toward the massive, rune-covered gates. The moment the first ancient metal groan echoed through the air, the atmosphere shifted. A faint tremor ran through the ground as the gates parted, and from within the chamber, a torrent of golden dust-like energy spilled out — swirling lazily in the air, almost weightless, yet carrying an oppressive density that made weaker disciples instinctively hold their breath.

Then, a shadow took form in that golden haze.

Step. Step.

A figure emerged. Hands in pockets, his steps unhurried, the faint glow of a golden aura radiating off his frame like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. His eyes caught the light, glinting with something between amusement and unshakable confidence.

It was Shaurya.

He descended the stone steps slowly, each stride measured. When he reached the bottom of the chamber stairs, he stopped — his gaze sweeping across the gathered sect members. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a smile.

The disciples, almost as if pulled by an invisible thread, smiled back.

Wang Tian broke the quiet with his trademark bluntness.

"Master... you’ve been inside that training chamber for thirty-two days straight!"

Luo Chen leaned forward, grinning wide. "Master, you’re definitely more strong now!"

Elder Wu, ever direct, asked, "Master... what’s your order now?"

Shaurya’s expression brightened, and his voice carried across the crowd like a war drum.

"The orders are clear. Get yourselves ready — every one of you. We are going to war."

The wave of excitement that exploded through the Sanatan Flame Sect was almost physical.

"We will end the Royal Family!" someone roared.

"I can’t wait for the fight!" shouted another.

"I didn’t get this excited even when my crush agreed to my proposal!" someone else yelled, earning a few laughs.

"Royal Family... doomed!"

The scattered shouts became a unified storm.

Shaurya’s voice cut through it. He raise his hand and screams.

"HAIL THE SANATAN FLAME SECT!"

Every single throat answered in perfect unison.

"HAIL THE SANATAN FLAME SECT!"

---

Scene Shift — Royal Palace

Inside the capital, the royal palace was a hive of movement. Soldiers marched in tight formations across the marble courtyards, the gleam of their polished armor catching the light. Generals barked orders, their voices harsh over the sound of clashing training weapons.

The grand hall was a spectacle of imperial grandeur — towering pillars carved with golden dragons, a thick crimson carpet stretching the entire length of the chamber. Ministers and high-ranking soldiers stood on either side in perfect lines, their expressions trained and unreadable.

On the dais stood the central throne, massive and ornate, carved from gold with twin dragon heads arching over its back. Four slightly smaller thrones lined the right, and another four on the left. Below, seated gracefully yet with subtle pride, were the Emperor’s concubines, their jeweled hairpieces glinting under the light of hundreds of golden lanterns.

A soldier at the great doors suddenly stepped forward, striking the marble floor with the butt of his spear.

"Your Majesty, the Emperor and Empress have arrived!"

In an instant, every minister, general, and soldier dropped to their knees, bowing deeply.

The queen entered first, her poise flawless. Behind her followed the king — Ye Xuan, towering at seven feet, a mountain of muscle wrapped in a golden robe with a crimson cloak flowing behind him. His black hair framed a face with sharp, commanding lines, and his crimson eyes seemed to pierce through the air itself. A golden crown rested on his head, its central blue diamond burning with cold fire. On his left hand, a sword lay sheathed in a golden scabbard studded with diamonds.

The Emperor and Empress ascended the dais and took their thrones. Only after they sat did the others dare to rise.

The Emperor’s voice rolled out, heavy with authority and aura.

"Is the army ready?"

Six generals stepped forward as one and knelt, their armor clinking. The eldest among them spoke, his tone solemn.

"Yes, Your Majesty. The army can attack at any time. We await only your command."

The Emperor’s lips curled into a smile.

"Perfect. I want to get rid of that sect as soon as possible. If the outside world hears that we have been defeated more than once by a twelfth-rank sect, our reputation will be worth less than dust. They will laugh at us."

Suddenly, a calm voice cut through the air.

"They will laugh, Because you are a clown."

Every head in the hall whipped toward the massive entrance. Confusion rippled through the court as the Emperor’s gaze narrowed.

The soldiers at the sides instantly lowered their spears toward him, generals bristling as they drew their swords. Ministers recoiled in fear, murmurs breaking out.

The Empress’s face twisted in recognition. Her eyes sharpened, and her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened. The Emperor, ever observant, flicked a glance at her and caught that flash of rage before she smoothed her expression. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling slowly.

One general stepped forward, his voice echoing harshly.

"Brat, who are you? How dare you step into the Royal Palace?"

Shaurya didn’t answer, his gaze locked only on the Emperor and Empress.

Another general snarled.

"How dare you act arrogantly before His Majesty!"

He took a step toward Shaurya — but then the Emperor’s voice, low yet sharp, cut through the air.

"Stop."

The generals froze, exchanging bewildered glances. Soldiers hesitated mid-step.

"Put down your weapons," the Emperor ordered, releasing a pulse of his imperial aura. The oppressive wave was enough to make the armed men comply instantly, retreating a pace.

Shaurya walked further into the hall, passing ministers and soldiers alike until he stopped directly before the dais, eyes meeting the Emperor’s.

"Are you the sect leader of the Sanatan Flame Sect?" the Emperor asked.

Shaurya’s grin widened, his eyes bright with a mocking gleam.

"I didn’t know I was that famous."

The Emperor leaned forward slightly.

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, stop pretending you don’t know," Shaurya said casually.

The Emperor’s smile deepened.

"So, you are here to declare war."

"You’re smarter than I thought," Shaurya replied with a lazy confidence, his grin sharp. "No wonder you’re an Emperor."

The Emperor laughed once, cold and heavy.

"You destroyed the Gu-Lin family, an assassin organization under my banner, slaughtered my soldiers, killed one of my generals, and took that traitor Lu Fang as your disciple. Again and again you have stepped on my nerves."

Shaurya’s tone remained almost bored.

"Don’t worry, I won’t bother you for long. Because after the war... you’ll be going to die."

The soldiers and ministers behind Shaurya erupted in outrage.

"How dare you speak so to His Majesty!" cried one elderly minister.

A general took a step forward, hand on his sword hilt.

"Tired of living, are you?"

But the Emperor’s raised hand silenced them all instantly. The vast hall fell still.

"Let’s see," the Emperor said slowly, "when I beat you badly, were you still remain this arrogant."

Shaurya smirked and gave a light wink.

"I’ll wait."

The Emperor’s crimson gaze flared with imperial light.

"I, Ye Xuan, Emperor of the Jade Imperial Kingdom, declare war against you."

Shaurya’s voice rang out like a war gong.

"I, Shaurya, Sect Leader of the Sanatan Flame Sect, accept the war."

The Empress’s lips curled into a venomous smile.

"Brat, you are truly annoying. I can’t wait to see you dead."

Shaurya tilted his head toward her with feigned curiosity.

"Hey, Emperor... what did you see in this piece of trash?"

The words hit like a slap. The Empress’s fury erupted — her aura turning pitch-dark, crashing outward like a tidal wave. The pressure was so immense that it sent ministers and soldiers stumbling backward, some crashing to their knees. But Shaurya stood unmoved, smiling faintly.

The Emperor gave her a single glance — and in an instant, her aura and pressure vanished as if it had never existed.

Ministers panted heavily, still on their knees, their robes damp with sweat.

"Your Majesty," the Empress seethed, "will you tolerate my insult?"

"I never said I would tolerate it," the Emperor replied, eyes fixed on Shaurya. "I am simply waiting for the right time. In the war, I will crush him before you and torture him so you can enjoy it."

Shaurya turned away, already walking toward the exit.

"Enjoy your dreams. Because from now on... dreams will be all that can satisfy you."

And with that, his figure blurred — vanishing from sight as if the air had swallowed him whole. Everyone got shocked. Even the emperor got surprised.

"Listen, you all," Ye Xuan’s voice boomed through the grand hall like a rolling thunderclap. His ministers, generals, and soldiers instantly turned their gazes toward him, hanging on his every word. "Ready the whole military and prepare for a great war. This time... our opponent will not be simple."

The sound of boots and armor clinking filled the hall as the order sank in. Without hesitation, they all nodded, fists on their chests, acknowledging his command.

Ye Xuan’s lips curved into a slow, battle-hungry smile, but deep within his crimson eyes, a sharper glint flickered. "Shaurya... I am waiting for the day I clash with you."

Beside him, Empress—Ye Liao cast a sly glance at the Emperor. A vicious smile crept across her face, her perfectly painted lips curling in contempt. "Shaurya, you damn brat... This time, you’re definitely going to die."

---

Scene shift – the sky.

Dark, brooding clouds swirled above the capital, their underbellies splitting to reveal a vast shadow descending from the heavens. Emerging from the mist was the Dark Pearl, its massive hull cutting through the air like a blade of obsidian. Spiritual light rippled faintly across its surface, and an ominous hum resonated through the wind as it sailed closer to the battlefield.

Upon its deck stood all 520 Sanatan Flame Sect disciples, their faces lit with unshakable confidence, their eyes burning with anticipation. Five elders stood among them—Elder Wu, Elder Liya, Elder Wan, Lin Shu, and even Jian Fan with his once-bandit followers—each radiating a palpable killing intent.

At the center of the deck, Shaurya descended, his boots clicking against the polished black floor.

Lin Shu stepped forward to greet him, her face carrying a warm smile. "So? How did it go?"

Shaurya’s own lips curved into a faint grin. "Their Emperor... is even more powerful and cunning than I thought. We cannot take them lightly. We must strike with everything we have."

The disciples nodded in unison, the collective aura of their resolve flaring like wildfire.

Shaurya turned toward the front edge of the Dark Pearl, placing his hand lightly on the railing. Then, without another word, he willed the ship forward, its speed increasing with a sudden, sharp acceleration.

The capital city spread out beneath them—a sprawl of rooftops, market streets, and temples—before the ship’s shadow swept over the royal palace itself. The disciples peered down. Some watched with neutral indifference, others with mild curiosity.

Wang Tian scoffed. "Tch. This is what they call a royal palace? What a piece of trash. In the past, my rest palace was far grander than this."

Xiao Rui chuckled awkwardly. "Bro... not everyone is a great Emperor like you."

Luo Chen smirked, placing a hand on Wang Tian’s shoulder. "Someone’s flexing too much."

But as their gazes swept the palace grounds, they noticed something strange. The entire area was deserted—eerily so. Commoners were fleeing from the streets surrounding the palace, their hurried footsteps echoing faintly even from this height.

The Dark Pearl sailed past, and Lin Shu’s brow furrowed. "Where exactly are we going?"

Shaurya simply raised a finger, pointing toward the horizon. "We’ve arrived."

---

They looked ahead and saw it: a vast battlefield stretching out behind the palace, encircled by towering mountains and cloaked in dense, shadowed forest. The imperial army stood arrayed in perfect formation, an unending sea of armored bodies.

Three hundred thousand soldiers, each standing with disciplined precision. At the front were six generals, their war-beasts snorting black mist. Half the soldiers rode on Dark Horse Beasts—snarling, crimson-eyed creatures with hides blacker than midnight—while the six generals themselves sat astride Dragon Horses, towering monsters with armor-like gray scales, manes of black flame, and eyes like molten blood.

Behind the generals rolled a massive golden royal chariot, the size of a small fortress. Upon its elevated throne sat Emperor Ye Xuan and Empress Ye Liao. Flanking them were eight smaller spiritual chariots, four to each side, each carrying one of the Emperor’s concubines—faces serene, yet their eyes glittered with murderous intent.

Ye Xuan was clad in full battle armor—blackened ceremonial iron, intricate as the ancient imperial war regalia of old dynasties, but forged entirely from shadowed steel. Queen Ye Liao’s armor mirrored the style, though the upper plating shimmered in royal purple while the lower half remained black as night.

The moment the Dark Pearl entered the field, the imperial army stirred in unease. Even Ye Xuan’s brows lifted slightly in surprise. A spiritual ship of that size...

Shaurya’s gaze swept over the formation, noting every detail. "Systu, he called in his mind. Count them for me."

The system’s voice rang in his head.[Host, you are facing approximately three hundred thousand soldiers, plus six generals, plus the Emperor himself, and his nine wives. Total: three hundred thousand... and sixteen opponents.]

Shaurya’s eyebrows rose, but his smile remained unshaken. "That’s... a lot. But..."

He turned to his sect members. "We’re facing the entire army of a kingdom. It’s going to be dangerous—and exciting—at the same time."

Wang Tian’s sword flashed as he unsheathed it, the blade singing in the wind. "It’s only exciting."

The disciples grinned, nodding in unison.

Shaurya exhaled slowly, his tone shifting to serious steel. "I believe in you all... but don’t lower your guard. And don’t act rashly. Now—" He stepped to the very edge of the Dark Pearl, eyes locked on the enemy. "Let’s go."

---

They jumped.

Five hundred and twenty disciples, five elders, and their leader descended like a meteor shower in classic superhero landing pose, slamming into the earth with thunderous force. The ground cracked under the impact, shockwaves blasting outward in rings of dust and shattered stone.

From atop his chariot, Ye Xuan’s eyes gleamed with interest. "They have quite a lot of courage... Coming with such few numbers to face an entire army."

Ye Liao’s lips curved in disdain. "This isn’t courage. It’s foolishness."

Ye Xuan’s faint smile didn’t waver, but his voice turned to steel.

The dust began to clear, revealing Shaurya and his disciples standing tall, their weapons ready, eyes locked with the imperial army.

Ye Xuan stepped to the edge of his golden chariot, his armor glinting like obsidian under the gray sky. He raised his hand high—then brought it down in a swift, decisive motion.

"Attack."

---

The battlefield erupted.

Three hundred thousand soldiers roared as one, the sound shaking the mountains. Boots thundered against the earth, the ground trembling under the force of the charge. Dust and dirt rose in a choking wave, and the metallic scent of blood and steel already tainted the wind.

The six generals exchanged glances, reading the flow of the enemy. They didn’t move immediately—the first wave would be the soldiers.

Shaurya’s voice rang out over the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Sanatan Flame Sect!"

His Meteorite Sword appeared in his hand with a flash of silver light, its point leveling at the heart of the enemy. "Crush them all!"

With a unified battle cry, the disciples surged forward—no hesitation, no fear—like starving lions unleashed upon prey. Auras blazed around them, crackling with spiritual energy, forming a wall of killing intent so heavy it warped the air.

Elder Liya and Lin Shu led the female disciples in a sweeping arc toward the left flank, while Elder Wu and Elder Wan charged with the male disciples toward the right. The six generals spurred their Dragon Horses forward, their beasts’ claws tearing the ground as they advanced.

From the royal chariots, the eight concubines leapt down, their auras flaring with deadly brilliance, rushing into the fray.

Shaurya’s eyes locked on Emperor Ye Xuan and Empress Ye Liao. Neither moved—yet.

---

The earth quaked as the two forces met. Dust boiled up in great clouds, the sky darkening further as ominous thunder rolled above. Elder Wu was the first to strike—his massive fist colliding with a general’s blade in an explosion of force that sent shockwaves tearing across the battlefield.

And then—chaos.

The massacre began. Steel clashed, blood sprayed in crimson arcs against the trampled earth. Each strike from the Sanatan Flame Sect disciples shattered armor, split shields, and carved a path through the imperial ranks. The ground fractured beneath the weight of the battle, deep cracks spiderwebbing outward as explosions boomed again and again.

The sky covered completely by black clouds, the ground trembled as the roars of warriors and beasts blended into a single, deafening storm of war.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The clash had only just begun...

---

To be continued.