The imperial capital was a city carved from gold and iron. From miles away, its spires gleamed beneath the sun, and the walls rose like mountains, layered with runes that shimmered faintly with protective light. Beyond the gates, wide avenues stretched endlessly, lined with marble statues of past emperors and heavenly beasts.

The great hall of assembly of the Palace was vast enough to swallow a thousand men. Its high ceiling disappeared into darkness, from which hung banners embroidered with dragons, fluttering in a wind that wasn't there.

On the throne sat the Emperor.

He was an old man by years, yet the weight of his presence crushed the hall like a mountain. His robes were deep crimson stitched with black, the imperial crest glinting gold across his chest. A crown of jade and obsidian rested on his brow.

His gaze was calm, ancient, and sharp enough to strip a man bare of every secret.

Around him stood the royal princes, ministers in long flowing sleeves, and generals in lacquered armor, all arranged in neat lines before the Dragon Throne.

As the doors groaned open, the envoy entered.

His steps were slow, measured, but the slight tremor in his hands betrayed him. The scroll Mark had given him weighed heavily than a boulder. With every step across the polished jade floor, he felt the silence of the court pressing down, as though all eyes sought to peel the truth from his face.

When he finally stopped before the throne, he dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the cold stone. "Your Majesty… I return with a letter from the Lan Clan's new head, Lan Zhen."

The Emperor's voice was like distant thunder, calm but carrying to every corner. "Rise. Speak."

The envoy stood, his legs unsteady. He held out the sealed scroll with both trembling hands. A eunuch stepped forward, took the letter, and carried it up the steps. The Emperor broke the seal himself. His eyes scanned the neat, bold strokes of Mark's handwriting.

The hall waited in breathless silence.

The Eunch read aloud in a steady voice: "From this day forth, the Ancient Lan Sect declares independence from the Heavenly Ocean Empire. We shall not bow to imperial orders, nor bleed for wars that are not ours. If the throne desires peace, we will be allies—but the Lan Clan will not be a servant to the throne, not anymore."

The words echoed, sharp and unyielding. The assembly erupted instantly.

"Arrogance!"

"Treason!"

"Your Majesty, allow me to march at once—"

A minister fell to his knees, robes dragging against the floor. "Such defiance cannot be tolerated! If one clan rises, what stops the others?"

A general slammed his fist to his chest. "Sire, give the command, and I shall personally bring you Lan Zhen's head!"

The Emperor, however, remained still. He rolled the scroll shut with deliberate calm and rested it on his lap. His gaze swept across the hall, and the noise died as quickly as it had risen.

His eyes lingered on the envoy, who bowed so deeply he almost touched the floor. The envoy's heart hammered in his chest.

Then, from the front row, a voice broke through the clamor.

"Father!"

The Fourteenth Prince stepped forward, face twisted with fury. His golden robe shimmered under the hall's light, but his hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. "This is insolence beyond measure! They dare spit on the throne itself! Give me the command—I will gather my forces and bring their clan to ash. Let me prove my loyalty to you, Father!"

Murmurs rippled through the court. Some ministers nodded in approval. Others remained silent, watching.

The Emperor's gaze shifted, slow and heavy, until it settled upon his son. For a moment, silence stretched thin as silk.

Then the sound came—sharp, thunderous.

SLAP!

The strike sent the prince flying, his body smashing into the carved dragon relief of the wall. He slid down, coughing blood, eyes wide in disbelief. Gasps erupted across the assembly.

"F-Father—"

"Silence!" The Emperor's voice cracked through the hall like lightning. His expression twisted, and for the first time, fury showed in his eyes. "Do you think me blind? This situation is your making. You prodded, you schemed, you threw a loyal sect into the jaws of Ravagers—and now you dare demand blood when they refuse to be your sacrificial pawns?"

The prince lowered his head, trembling, unable to speak.

The Emperor rose from his throne. His robes unfurled like a storm, and the hall itself seemed to quake. The officials closest to him staggered back instinctively.

Still, some ministers clung to protocol, their voices desperate.

"Your Majesty, the Lan Clan must be punished—"

"Yes, if you let this pass, others will—"

"Enough."

The word was quiet. Almost gentle. But it froze the blood in every man's veins.

The Emperor closed his eyes, and then it came.

A pressure, vast and suffocating, swept across the hall. Invisible yet undeniable, it pressed down on every soul present. Ministers fell to their knees, armor creaked as generals collapsed, eunuchs trembled and gasped for breath. Even the princes staggered, clutching their chests as if a mountain had been dropped upon them.

Magic circles layered upon one another, unfurled like the heavens themselves crashing down. The great banners above rattled, and the jade floor cracked under the strain.

"Do not think for a moment," the Emperor said, his voice reverberating through the suffocating aura, "that the throne cannot crush a mere sect. Their defiance will meet its end, not through your petty demands, but when I decree it so. The Lan Clan's punishment will come, and it will be remembered across centuries."

One by one, the voices of the court were extinguished. None dared speak. None dared even lift their heads.

The Emperor stood tall, gaze sweeping over them all, his realm still bearing down like the weight of the heavens.

"The Crown Prince, heed my command…"

"Your Majesty…" The Eldest of all the Princes, the next to be Emperor, a 13-circle realm Spirit Warrior, a muscled man, came forward and kneeled.

"I will give you the Red Dragon Army… I want you to go on the conquest and eliminate the Ravagers…"

"Eh?"