General Lu Sang stood on the battlefield, his sword raised high as the signal for the catapults to unleash their deadly barrage. The heavy stones flew through the air, crashing into the ranks of the rebel cultivators with devastating force. The ground trembled as several rebels were struck down, their cries lost in the roar of combat. Despite the chaos, the remaining rebels pressed forward, their fearsome leader urging them to charge.

  The rebel forces, initially disorganized, quickly regrouped, their cultivation techniques fring to life as they charged the loyalist lines. Lu Sang’s soldiers held their ground, their discipline forged through years of training, but the rebel charge was relentless. For every loyalist that fell, ten more rebels advanced. The two forces cshed in a flurry of bdes, fists, and explosive energies that rocked the very earth beneath their feet.

  The battle raged on for a full day and night, the loyalists driven to the brink of exhaustion but refusing to yield. As dawn’s first light broke over the horizon, the st of the rebel forces surrendered. Their spirit broken, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands in defeat. Lu Sang stood victorious, but the cost was evident in the blood-soaked ground and the silent cries of the fallen.

  As the rebels were rounded up and their wounded tended to, Lu Sang began drafting his report. His quill moved across the parchment, documenting the staggering losses on both sides. The loyalists had suffered heavily, with one hundred thousand soldiers wounded and sixty thousand dead—many of them brave fighters who had fallen on the frontlines, facing the fiercest of the rebel leaders.

  The Queen, ever the shrewd tactician, summoned Lu Sang to her pace to present the report in person. He followed the soldier who led him through the grand halls, finally arriving at the opulent chambers where Pan Lian awaited.

  Pan Lian sat at a desk in her study, her keen eyes scanning over the report. As her fingers traced the lines of ink, she nodded solemnly. “I see the price of victory,” she murmured. “A harsh toll indeed.”

  Lu Sang watched her carefully, sensing there was more to this woman than her outward composure. He had long admired her strength—both as a leader and a cultivator. She exuded an almost unearthly presence, but he could not fathom the depths of her true power.

  His thoughts were answered when the Cultivation Great Sage, a trusted advisor, leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Pan Lian’s spiritual cultivation is that of a Jing Emperor, with a staggering 25 million spiritual points. Her strength is unrivaled among those of her rank.”

  Lu Sang’s eyes widened slightly, the weight of this revetion pressing upon him. A Jing Emperor... He had long suspected that Pan Lian was no ordinary woman, but hearing the exact measure of her power was humbling.

  Pan Lian pced the report down, her gaze locking onto Lu Sang. “This is troubling,” she said, her voice calm but her eyes betraying a hint of concern. “The casualties from the frontlines—one hundred thousand wounded, sixty thousand dead. The bravest of my soldiers fell in that battle. But we’ve found something more.”

  She motioned for him to follow, leading him beneath the pace to a hidden chamber. The air grew cooler as they descended, and Lu Sang’s mind raced with the possibilities of what they might discover.

  Inside the chamber, a woman y bound and battered, her body wrapped in bandages. Her eyes, wide and crazed, stared at nothing in particur, as if her mind had unraveled in the chaos of the conflict. Pan Lian’s voice cut through the silence.

  “This woman,” she began, “was found supplying the Union Rebels with low-tier swords and cultivation pills. Meanwhile, the bravest among my forces received mid-tier pills, which led to their demise on the frontlines. She pyed a role in weakening my army.”

  Lu Sang stepped closer, examining the woman carefully. There was something unsettling in her demeanor—an unnatural madness that seemed to pulse through her.

  “She is dangerous,” Lu Sang observed quietly.

  “She was,” Pan Lian corrected. “But she is now your responsibility. You may take her under your wing.”

  Lu Sang raised an eyebrow. “What do you ask in return?”

  Pan Lian’s eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable. “I will offer you this woman, but in exchange, your payment for this month will be reduced by ninety percent.”

  Lu Sang thought for a moment. The deal was steep, but the woman’s knowledge of the rebel network could prove invaluable. He nodded in acceptance. “Agreed.”

  Pan Lian gave a small nod of approval. “Take her then. But be careful. She may not be what she appears.”

  As Lu Sang turned to leave the chamber, the woman’s voice suddenly broke the silence. Her voice was a soft whisper, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

  “I am Cao Suyin,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto his with an eerie crity.

  Lu Sang’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard the name before—a former rebel strategist known for her ruthless tactics. The fact that she was now under his care added another yer of complexity to the task ahead.

  “I’m sure you are,” Lu Sang replied, his voice steady. “But you’ll find things are different now. You’ll either cooperate, or you’ll regret it.”

  Cao Suyin’s lips twisted into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “I’m not in the habit of regretting my choices, General.”

  As they left the chamber, the weight of the future settled heavily on Lu Sang’s shoulders. He knew that taking Cao Suyin under his wing was both a risk and an opportunity. The path ahead was fraught with dangers, both within and outside the Empire. But Lu Sang was no stranger to danger. He had already walked that razor’s edge.

  Now, with Pan Lian’s support—and with the enigmatic Cao Suyin at his side—he would forge ahead, determined to reshape the Empire and face whatever challenges y ahead.