"Jin Mulan!" Zhu Lin roared as he stormed into the watchkeep.
What greeted him was… nothing.
No ambush.
No arrows raining from the walls.
No hidden formations waiting to spring.
The courtyards lay eerily empty.
His soldiers slowed, instinctively activating their profound talismans, shields flaring to life as they scanned the battlements for threats that never came.
Then a voice drifted down—calm, almost amused.
"I assumed you got lost."
Zhu Lin's gaze snapped upward.
At the top of the steps before the main hall stood Mulan.
Her helmet rested casually at her side, her polearm balanced in the other hand. No guards. No allies. No preparation.
Just her.
She hadn't planned a trap.
She had planned to be the battlefield.
For too long, the Zhu Family had oppressed the Jin Family—bullying them, bleeding them dry, stealing their vassals and dignity piece by piece.
Now—
She would be the one to answer.
-----------------------
Zhu Lin studied her in silence.
When had the Jin Family changed so completely?
Not only had they gained power—but means. Defenses. Allies. Influence. They had begun to defy not just rival noble houses, but even the Outer Cang Family itself. Worse, they had dismantled long-standing power structures and drawn former outer nobles into their cause.
The Jin Family now stood at the peak.
And the Zhu Family could not allow that.
This was supposed to be a decisive purge. They had prepared for fierce resistance, layered defenses, desperate counterattacks.
Instead—
Only Jin Mulan stood before them.
Alone.
No formations.
No soldiers.
No banners raised in defiance.
Just her.
To Zhu Lin, that wasn't bravery.
It was an insult.
An open declaration that the Zhu Family—his family—wasn't even worth mobilizing against.
His eyes darkened as fury replaced calculation.
"A single woman," he said coldly, voice carrying across the courtyard. "You dare greet the Zhu Family like this?"
Mulan didn't answer.
She merely shifted her stance, polearm resting lightly in her grasp.
That silence—
That calm—
Was the greatest provocation of all.
Zhu Lin let out a low chuckle as more of his army poured into the courtyard, steel and profound energy filling the space.
"You must be mad," he said with a smirk. "Facing all of us alone."
A single woman.
Against an entire army.
Mulan's grip tightened slightly around her polearm.
Her eyes were steady.
"Well," Mulan said lightly, "we already destroyed all your catapults. Using siege weapons against the Jin Family?" She sighed. "I suppose that counts as a formal declaration of war."
Zhu Lin's gaze hardened.
"So the Jin Family truly has the means to control those contraptions," he said slowly. "You wouldn't mind sharing how they work, would you? Such weapons outperform even catapults. Tell me—how did the Jin Family acquire innovations like these?"
"I don't have to tell you," Mulan replied calmly. "Those are family secrets."
Zhu Lin sneered.
"And do you really think you have the power to back up those words? To protect such secrets?"
"I do," Mulan said simply.
Inside, she steadied her breathing. Basic Observation and Armament Haki would have to be enough.
And if it wasn't—
She still had her final card.
Zhu Lin's smile turned predatory.
"Then you won't mind if we capture you and extract those secrets ourselves. Rumors say the Jin Family possesses abundant trade supplies, treasures… and now these weapons." His eyes gleamed. "Do you realize what you've become? The Jin Family is a prize waiting to be claimed."
"I do," Mulan answered. "But tell me—has anyone succeeded in taking anything from us?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"I assume you've noticed. We've already captured quite a few people who tried to cause trouble."
Zhu Lin's jaw tightened.
The Zhu Family had sabotaged trade routes.
Incited unrest.
Sent assassins.
Laid siege weapons.
And not one of their disruptions had succeeded.
The Jin Family hadn't merely survived—
They had grown stronger.
And Zhu Lin was finally beginning to understand just how badly his family had misjudged them.
"Jin Mulan," Zhu Lin said coldly, raising his hand as his army shifted into formation, "understand this—tonight will be the last night the Jin Family exists."
Behind him, soldiers advanced, profound energy stirring like a rising tide. Zhu Lin stepped forward, confident. He only needed to keep her occupied. While he did, the rest would storm the watchkeep. A single woman couldn't possibly stop them all.
Mulan didn't retreat.
She didn't even flinch.
"No," she said quietly, her voice carrying with unsettling clarity. "Tonight will be the last night the Zhu Family exists. Consider this vengeance for all those suffering you cause. "
She lifted her polearm, the weapon humming softly as if responding to her resolve.
"I don't need my family to deal with you," Mulan continued, eyes steady, unwavering. "I don't need an army."
She took a single step forward.
"Only I am enough."
This was the moment she had waited years for—the night when every humiliation, every loss, every injustice would finally be answered.
The wind shifted.
Steel rang softly in her grip.
And as the Zhu Family army surged forward, Mulan stood alone at the center of the storm—ready to bring everything to an end.
=================
Outside the watchkeep, hooded figures moved silently through the shadows, taking full advantage of the chaos between the Zhu Family and Jin Mulan.
Their steps were measured.
Their breathing controlled.
Their killing intent restrained—but unmistakable.
"Remember our mission," Shu Jiantian murmured, his voice cold as steel.
"Kill Shu Pei Pei and Princess Cang Yue. Anyone else—kill on sight. We must prevent the spread of that filth's bloodline. Locate the Spirit art scripture within the watchkeep." His eyes narrowed. "Leave no witnesses."
He raised a hand.
"Divide and conquer. Separate into groups. Approach from multiple angles. Use the chaos as cover. Strike from behind."
The men nodded in silence.
They split apart smoothly, dissolving into the darkness as each group advanced from a different direction, blades and hidden techniques prepared for assassination.
None of them noticed—
—the faint hum above.
High in the air, invisible sentinels drifted silently, rotors whisper-quiet as they tracked every movement. One drone shadowed each group, maintaining distance, recording, locking targets.
Unseen.
Unheard.
Unforgiving.
The assassins believed they were the hunters.
They had no idea—
They were already being watched.
They split up, scaling different sections of the watchkeep with practiced precision. Grappling hooks bit into stone. Ropes tightened. Shadows clung to walls.
The last assassin remained below, standing watch.
He never heard the shot.
A near-silent crack pierced the night—and his skull—dropping him lifeless to the ground before he could even place a foot on the rope.
Elsewhere, the same fate unfolded.
As each group advanced, the sentinels activated.
From extreme range, invisible death struck. One by one, the rearmost assassins in each team collapsed—heads snapping back, bodies crumpling soundlessly into darkness. No alarms. No warning.
The moment they fully dispersed throughout the watchkeep, the drones began their harvest.
One target at a time.
One clean kill at a time.
As a precaution, all civilians had already been evacuated beneath the watchkeep, sealed away long before the assassins arrived. Moving through empty corridors and deserted rooftops, some of the intruders frowned.
"Why is it empty…?" one whispered uneasily.
None of them possessed high cultivation. Their entire plan relied on poisoned weapons—to finish Shu Pei Pei, weakened by the earlier arrow lodged in her shoulder during the first attempt by Shu Jiantian.
They believed this was their chance. They believed she is in her deathbed. Waiting to be slaughtered.
What they didn't know—
—was that Shu Jiantian's men were already dying.
The moment they separated, the drones had marked them.
Tracked them.
And now—
They were being erased, one by one, before they ever realized the hunt had turned against them.
Inside the main hall, Jin Yuelian sat upon the ruler's seat—once meant for her and her husband. Her posture was composed, regal, unyielding.
At her side stood Li Bing, Mulan's closest friend and most trusted attendant, hand resting firmly on her sword.
"Shu Pei Pei!"
The shout echoed through the hall.
In an instant, shadows poured in.
Black-robed, hooded figures flooded the chamber, their movements sharp and disciplined. Every one of them bore the crest of the Shu Family. Some paused briefly, glancing around in faint confusion—their numbers felt… reduced compared to when they had departed the Shu State.
They dismissed the thought quickly.
Surely the others were already spreading through the watchkeep—killing, capturing hostages, searching for the Spirit Art their ancestor demanded.
Li Bing tightened her grip on her blade.
She had expected assassins.
She had not expected this many.
"Shu Jiantian…" a calm voice said.
Shu Pei Pei rose from the throne.
Shu Jiantian's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Impossible… you should be poisoned!"
Shu Pei Pei exhaled softly, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "It's nothing I can't handle."
If not for the Divine Water Cang Yue had given her, she would already be on the brink—locked in a desperate struggle as the venom gnawed through her meridians. Even now, the remnants of the poison from the arrow writhed within her body, pressing against her defenses.
But she remained standing.
And that, more than anything, unsettled him.
Fully armored in Jin Family regalia, she stood tall, unbowed—her presence commanding the room. In her hand rested her meitō, a weapon forged for her by Yun Che himself.
"So my nephew has finally decided to end me. Again..."
Shu Jiantian stepped forward, his hood falling back as his aura erupted outward.
"Shu Pei Pei," he sneered. "A courtesy from the Wu Clan." His profound energy surged violently. "Do you really think your First-Level Emperor Profound Realm can stand against me?"
His power climbed higher—
Fourth Level Emperor Profound Realm.
"A shame," he continued coldly, "that I must kill my own aunt. But this time… I'll do it properly."
Jin Yuelian—
Shu Pei Pei—exhaled softly.
She could see it clearly.
His future was finished.
The elixir had given him power, yes—but at the cost of everything beyond it. His path had been sealed the moment he accepted it. Not that she felt pity.
He had earned this fate the day he turned on the Jin Family during their moment of crisis—when Mu Che was away.
History, it seemed, was repeating itself.
Beside her, Li Bing unconsciously touched the left side of her neck.
The scar was still there.
The place where Shu Jiantian's blade had pierced her flesh when she had been taken hostage.
Her eyes hardened.
This time—
She would not be helpless.
"You may be a Throne," Shu Jianting sneered, spreading his arms slightly, "but against me—and a hundred assassins—you must be dreaming."
Shu Pei Pei did not answer at once.
There was no despair in her eyes.
No hesitation.
Not like before.
"I see…" she said quietly.
She drew her sword.
The moment steel cleared its sheath, her aura erupted.
Profound pressure crashed through the hall like a tidal wave. The black-robed assassins staggered, some falling to one knee, others choking as the air itself seemed to harden around them.
Even Shu Jianting froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Just days ago—she had been a First-Level Emperor Profound Realm.
Now—
Her aura surged relentlessly upward.
Second.
Third.
Fourth.
Fifth—
Sixth-Level Emperor Profound Realm.
"H–How…?!" Shu Jianting stammered, his voice cracking. "How is this possible?!"
"I concealed my cultivation," Shu Pei Pei replied evenly. "There is nothing more to discuss."
Her gaze hardened, blade angled forward.
"You may be my nephew," she continued, voice cold and resolute, "but this is for every life the Shu Family has taken."
The hall fell silent—
—and for the first time, Shu Jianting realized:
He was no longer the hunter.
Then it hit him.
They were being thinned out.
Shu Jianting's breath caught as he finally registered what was wrong. He had brought nearly a hundred men to slaughter the Jin Family—yet the watchkeep was empty, unnaturally silent. There are no guards or people present.
And now…
Barely third quarter of them remained.
Where are the others?
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
Taken down… silently?
Expected?
His gaze flicked instinctively to the shadows, to the corridors, to the high beams above—suddenly unsure which direction death might come from next.
Shu Pei Pei watched him with open contempt, as if reading every thought on his face.
Beside her, Li Bing drew her sword, steel whispering free of its sheath. She stepped forward, stance steady, eyes cold.
Last time—in this very hall—
Civilians had crowded together, seeking refuge.
Elders.
Women.
Children.
And Shu Jianting had brought his men here to finish Shu Pei Pei.
They had driven the attackers back—but at a terrible cost. Nearly a hundred lives lost. Innocents slaughtered where they had believed themselves safe.
Even Li Bing herself had fallen because of her weakness. Held by knife point.
Stabbed through the neck.
Used as a hostage.
She cursed herself for being so weak. Taken as a hostage by Shu Jiantian back then and even kidnapped by the Wu Clan to be turn into a monster.
If she could, Li Bing would have killed Shu Jianting with her own hands.
But now, even after consuming Yun Che's XP pill, she had only reached Peak Sky Profound Realm—far from enough to even scratch him.
Now—
"Kill them!" Shu Jianting roared.
The assassins surged forward.
But before any of them could reach Shu Pei Pei—
Whistling death fell from above.
Dozens of arrows rained down, precise and merciless. Black-robed figures collapsed mid-stride, bodies pierced before they could even react.
High above, Lin Yueru stood poised, bow gleaming as she loosed another volley.
"Get the archer!" someone shouted in panic.
They never made it.
A streak of golden light tore through the hall, piercing straight through multiple bodies in a single breath.
"Take that, you dumbasses!!!" Kon shouted, his voice echoing as he transformed into pure light, darting through the air and skewering several more assassins in rapid succession.
The survivors froze, terror flooding their faces.
"What—what the hell is that thing?!"
"Group up and attack them!" the Shu Family assassins shouted desperately.
"Hehe…"
A small, eerie giggle echoed around them.
"What…?"
Bam!
A streak of pink light slammed into one man's shoulder, sending him spinning. Before anyone could react, more screams rang out as bodies began dropping one after another.
They finally saw them.
Not one.
Not two.
But four identical little girls, darting through the air like mischievous specters.
Four flying Nezukos.
"Hehehe… uncles are annoying…"
"Let's play with Oba-chan!"
"Play!"
The assassins' formation collapsed instantly.
Shu Jianting stared in disbelief.
Four childlike figures were overwhelming his elite assassins with absurd ease—supported by a golden plush lion that transformed into a streak of light, tearing through ranks, while arrows rained down from a deadly female archer above.
How…?
How does the Jin Family have monsters like these?!
Snarling, Shu Jianting slashed his sword toward one of the Nezukos.
"Dodge!" she called playfully, slipping aside with effortless grace.
"Bad touch!"
Another Nezuko slammed her forehead into him like a charging beast, the impact sending him tumbling backward across the floor.
"Yay!!!"
Shu Pei Pei exhaled slowly.
They were children—
—but calling them that felt dangerously inaccurate.
Monsters was more fitting.
Beside her, Li Bing moved decisively, cutting down assassins with clean, practiced strikes. Together, aunt and attendant carved through the remaining resistance with steady efficiency.
The hall that once echoed with screams of the helpless—
Now echoed with the panic of invaders who had chosen the wrong place to die.
Shu Pei Pei stood directly before Shu Jianting, her gaze cold and unwavering.
She could tell at a glance.
He didn't even know how to properly control his Throne power.
He had strength—borrowed, forced, poorly refined—but no foundation. No mastery. She doubted he even understood what a domain truly was.
As for her—
She didn't need one.
"You bitch!" Shu Jianting roared.
He fired a blast of profound energy straight at her.
Shu Pei Pei deflected it casually, the attack dispersing like mist against her blade. Steel rang as they exchanged blows, but it quickly became obvious—this was not a duel.
It was a lesson.
Shu Jianting lunged again, rage stripping away what little discipline he had left.
His blade howled with unstable profound energy as he swung—wide, reckless, desperate to overwhelm through sheer force.
Shu Pei Pei didn't retreat.
She stepped into the strike.
Steel rang as she turned her wrist, guiding his sword just enough for it to miss her vitals. In the same motion, her elbow snapped forward, slamming into his forearm. Bones cracked. His grip faltered.
"Too slow," she said calmly.
He snarled and tried to unleash another burst of profound energy at point-blank range.
She cut it apart.
The energy dispersed as her blade passed through it, and before Shu Jianting could react, her knee drove upward into his abdomen, knocking the breath from his lungs. He staggered back, coughing, eyes wide with shock.
"You rely on power you don't understand," Shu Pei Pei continued, advancing step by step. "You never learned how to fight with it."
Desperation twisted his face. He raised his sword overhead and brought it down in a final, furious arc.
Shu Pei Pei slipped past the swing.
Her foot planted.
Her body turned.
And her heel struck his chest like a hammer.
Boom.
The kick landed squarely over his heart, profound force detonating outward. Shu Jianting was launched across the hall, smashing into a pillar before collapsing to the floor in a heap, armor cracked, breath gone.
Around them, the battle tilted decisively.
Within minutes, nearly half of the remaining assassins had fallen under the combined onslaught of Kon, Lin Yueru, the Nezukos, and Li Bing.
Any assassin who tried to attack from range never got a second shot—Lin Yueru's arrows dropped them instantly.
Anyone who attempted to close in on Shu Pei Pei was intercepted—blasted away or overwhelmed by the Nezukos before they could reach her.
She stood unthreatened.
Untouched.
Focused solely on her nephew.
And with every exchange, Shu Jianting understood one horrifying truth—
This was no longer a battle he could win.
Shu Pei Pei looked down at her fallen nephew.
In this very hall, she had once watched her people die—soldiers cut down where they stood as Shu Jiantian led the slaughter. The memory still burned. Li Bing had been taken hostage then, struck across the neck and thrown aside. Not enough to kill her… yet more than enough to carve hatred into Shu Pei Pei's heart.
She had been powerless.
Even though Li Bing survived, the shame never faded. Shu Pei Pei hated herself for her weakness far more than she hated her enemies.
She herself had been struck in the shoulder, the blow meant to cripple if not kill. If not for the sudden interference of a powerful expert—someone who owed Mu Che a favor—she would not be standing here today.
Her gaze shifted.
Li Bing was moving across the hall now, cold and decisive, cutting down another assassin. No longer the fragile girl she had once failed to protect. The weak had learned to fight for herself.
A faint tightening formed in Shu Pei Pei's chest.
As for her…
How long had she waited for this moment?
To stand here, unbroken.
To face the one who shared her blood—
And to defeat the nephew who had slaughtered countless members of her family.
At last, the debt of blood could be repaid.
However—
A stray arrow hissed through the air.
Shu Pei Pei sensed it at the last instant and twisted aside—
—and that was all Shu Jianting needed.
He moved.
A sneak attack, vicious and desperate, launched the moment her attention shifted.
"Mistress!!" Li Bing shouted.
She didn't hesitate.
Li Bing threw herself forward and shoved Shu Pei Pei out of the line of attack.
The strike hit her instead.
She was flung backward, crashing hard across the floor before skidding to a stop near the throne. Her armor screeched against stone as she landed.
"Bing!!" Shu Pei Pei's voice cracked with fury.
She vanished.
In the next heartbeat, she reappeared in front of Shu Jianting and drove her foot square into his ribs.
The impact was brutal.
A sickening crack echoed as bones shattered, and Shu Jianting was sent flying across the hall, smashing into the far wall before collapsing in a broken heap.
Shu Pei Pei didn't even look back at him.
She was already kneeling beside Li Bing.
"Bing… stay still," she said urgently.
Li Bing groaned softly, blood at the corner of her lips—but she was alive.
Yun Che's barrier charm shimmered faintly before fading, having absorbed the worst of the blow. Still, bruises spread quickly, and her breathing was uneven.
"Minor injuries," Shu Pei Pei muttered, relief and rage mixing in her chest.
She clenched her fist and looked back toward Shu Jianting—
Her eyes promised that the next strike would not be merciful.
Lin Yueru's arrows never missed.
Each shot was clean, decisive—every shaft striking its mark. Any assassin who attempted to draw a poison arrow or activate a hidden mechanism was eliminated before the thought could fully form. Above, sniper drones locked onto threats with ruthless efficiency, cutting down danger the instant it appeared.
On the ground, Kon and the Nezukos tore through the remaining assassins, thinning their numbers with terrifying speed. Kon even took an initiative to possess some assassin and tear their ranks. Jumping from one body to another.
Then—silence.
Less than twenty remained.
"Kyaaa—!!"
The scream cut through the hall like a blade.
Shu Pei Pei's breath hitched.
"This—"
Her eyes widened as she saw them.
Several assassins had seized members of the Jin Family—six women dragged forward, hair clenched tight in cruel fists, blades pressed just beneath their throats. They must have been caught while the others searched the watchkeep.
"Don't come any closer!" Shu Jianting shouted hoarsely. "Or their lives are forfeit!!"
The battlefield froze.
The Nezukos halted mid-air.
Kon stopped short.
Li Bing—supported at a distance by Lin Yueru—went rigid.
"Now," Shu Jianting snarled, "drop your weapons and hand over the Spirit Art!"
Shu Pei Pei clenched her teeth.
Again.
It was happening all over again.
Back then, dozens of innocents had died in this very hall—because of that cursed Spirit Art. And now, history was trying to repeat itself.
Before she could speak—
She felt it.
A faint hum.
A presence overhead.
Her gaze lifted just enough to notice invisible shapes hovering above the assassins.
Then she saw them.
Small, steady red dots—one on each assassin's head.
"Very well…"
Shu Pei Pei slowly sheathed her meitō. With deliberate calm, she reached into her robes, produced a scroll, and tossed it toward Shu Jianting.
"Mistress!" Li Bing cried out.
"I don't care, Bing'er," Shu Pei Pei said evenly, her voice firm despite the tension tearing at her chest. "I only want those people safe." Her gaze locked onto her nephew. "Now—let them go."
Shu Jianting caught the scroll and sneered.
"Hmph… kill them."
The words had barely left his mouth.
"Execute!" Shu Pei Pei shouted.
The hall erupted with sharp, suppressed cracks as the drones opened fire. Six precise shots. Six assassins dropped where they stood, lifeless before they could even tighten their grips.
The hostages collapsed to the floor—shaken, trembling, but alive.
Shu Jianting's eyes went wide.
He turned and ran.
Clutching the scroll, he bolted for the exit, abandoning everything else. He had intended to butcher the hostages himself in retreat—but a hail of fire tore into the stone around him, forcing him to abandon the thought entirely.
Shots chased his heels as he fled.
He escaped—
—but only barely.
"Bastard!" Kon roared, his possessed form flaring as he prepared to give chase.
"Kon—stop!" Shu Pei Pei raised her hand sharply. "Let him go."
"But—" Kon hesitated, fury still burning.
"He has lost everything," Shu Pei Pei said quietly as she knelt to tend Li Bing's injuries. Her hands were steady, but her eyes were cold. "His men are dead. He is the last one left. That humiliation will follow him longer than death." She exhaled slowly. "I will finish him myself when we reach the Shu State."
Kon clicked his tongue but relented. "Whatever you say, ma'am." The possession faded, and he dropped back into his plushy form. "Still… that was a lot of people sent just to kill you."
Shu Pei Pei's gaze shifted—briefly, deliberately.
She nodded once toward Lin Yueru.
Lin Yueru understood immediately.
Without a word, she reached for a green-tipped arrow, set it to her bow, and turned toward the direction Shu Jianting had fled. Her newly mastered Observation Haki spread outward, locking onto his presence as it moved through the night.
A breath.
A release.
The arrow vanished into the darkness.
Shu Jianting reached the outer wall of the watchkeep, chest heaving. In his hand, he clutched the scroll—the so-called Spirit Art that had cost the Shu Family nearly a hundred lives in a single night, leaving him its sole survivor.
"I must deliver this to the Patriarch…" he muttered.
He leapt, profound energy surging as he prepared to take flight—
Thunk.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
The arrow pierced from behind, punching clean through flesh and bone—exactly where he had struck Shu Pei Pei during his escape.
He screamed as control slipped away.
His body tumbled over the wall, vanishing into the forest below.
Far behind him, Lin Yueru lowered her bow.
Shu Pei Pei didn't smile.
But she watched the darkness where he fell with quiet certainty.
He was alive.
But from this moment on—
He would never escape the consequences. An eye for an eye.
Lin Yueru exhaled softly as she lowered her bow and slid it back into place. Above them, the drones decloaked briefly, humming as they conducted rapid scans over the fallen—confirming who still lived and who did not—before drifting into silent standby.
The Nezukos floated cheerfully around Shu Pei Pei, utterly unbothered by the carnage. Small hands moved with surprising care as they helped bandage her arm, wrapping cloth with childlike diligence.
The hostages were safe.
That alone drew a long, quiet sigh of relief from Shu Pei Pei. Those women were unharmed. Alive. That was what mattered.
"Mistress…" Li Bing said softly while Lin Yueru applied Divine Water to her wounds, the gentle glow easing the pain. "You let something so important go?"
Kon lay sprawled flat on the floor nearby, arms spread. "Ugh… that was exhausting."
Shu Pei Pei's expression hardened—not with regret, but certainty.
"That thing destroyed what remained of my family," she said evenly. "It brought nothing but calamity. I never kept the real Spirit Art anyway." She paused, then added, "Little Yue's mother—Shu Ying—cultivated it. According to her, the genuine scripture is safely with her father in the Imperial Palace."
Lin Yueru's brow furrowed.
"Then… what did you give him?"
Shu Pei Pei shook her head faintly.
"Something Yun Che prepared. Shu Jianting was desperate—alone, cornered. He grabbed anything that even resembled the Spirit Art."
Kon rolled onto his side. "So… what did Yun Che put in that scroll?"
"I don't know," Shu Pei Pei admitted. "He only told me to hand it over if I had no other choice." A faint, unreadable smile crossed her lips. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
Her gaze shifted toward the courtyard beyond the hall, where distant shockwaves still echoed.
"Mistress… should we assist the princess?" Li Bing asked.
Shu Pei Pei stood, straightening her armor.
"No. We watch." Her voice was firm. "This is Mulan's battle. Let her finish it."
Jin Family soldiers finally poured into the hall, halting in shock at the sight of the aftermath—assassins neutralized, hostages freed, the threat extinguished.
Shu Pei Pei issued calm, efficient orders.
"Secure the area. Remove the bodies."
Once that was done, she turned and gestured forward.
"Come. The soldiers will handle the cleanup."
Together, they moved toward the front courtyard—
Where Mulan was still fighting.
And where the final reckoning awaited.
======================
Zhong Chuke still couldn't believe what he was seeing.
His disciples were considered elites—each of them having reached the First Level Sky Profound Realm at a young age. That alone placed them above countless cultivators.
Yet just moments ago, Yun Che had done the impossible.
With a single pill, he had elevated them directly to the First Level Emperor Profound Realm.
Not temporarily.
Not chaotically.
Not at the cost of their foundations.
It was stable.
Perfectly so.
Both girls were barely eighteen, yet they now wielded power that elder disciples would dream of… or kill for.
Jin Zhuo, by contrast, barely reacted.
He had experienced it himself.
Having been empowered by the same pill, he understood better than anyone what it meant—not just raw strength, but an elevation of potential. Something deeper had been rewritten.
Tian Xi and Yao Yao, however, stood frozen.
They could feel it coursing through them—Throne-level power, vast and overwhelming, yet utterly obedient. Their profound energy flowed smoothly, without backlash, without instability. It wasn't a single-use burst like the Wu Clan's twisted methods.
This was real.
Refined.
Enduring.
A boost not only to their current strength—but to their future.
As cultivators, they instinctively understood what that meant.
And as they stood there, bathed in power meant for legends—
They realized they had just crossed a threshold from which there was no return.
"Xi'er…" Yao Yao whispered, almost afraid to speak louder. "Do you feel that?"
Tian Xi swallowed. Her profound veins pulsed steadily, overflowing with power that answered her thoughts without resistance. She clenched her fingers slowly, watching the air ripple.
"…I feel everything," she said quietly. "It's not unstable. It's not burning out." Her voice trembled despite herself. "This is real."
Yao Yao let out a shaky laugh, half disbelief, half exhilaration. "We were Heaven Profound Masters this morning. Heaven Profound." She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the immense reserve of energy circulating calmly within. "This kind of power… elders would risk their lives for it."
Tian Xi nodded slowly, eyes unfocused as she tried to reconcile sensation with reality. "My control didn't drop. My foundation didn't crack. It's like… my body was rewritten to accept it." She hesitated. "What kind of pill does that?"
For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed distant—noise muted beneath the rush of realization. They had trained their entire lives, clawing their way upward step by step.
And now—
They had crossed an entire realm in one instant.
They were still processing it when a sharp voice cut through the haze.
"You two!" Zhong Chuke shouted. "Focus!"
Both girls jolted.
"Yes!" they answered in unison, straightening immediately.
They stepped forward, facing the thousands of Qiang State soldiers ahead. Even as they assumed their stances, disbelief still lingered in their hearts.
Their bodies felt heavier.Their presence… larger.
No matter how many times they told themselves—
They were Throne-level cultivators now.
And the weight of that truth had only just begun to settle.
King Alugang could scarcely believe his eyes.
Two girls—barely grown—had leapt straight into the Throne Realm.
Just like that.
His gaze trembled as it swept the battlefield. If these two were merely additions, then how many Thrones would the Jin Family possess in the near future? One today… two tomorrow… more after that?
This was no longer a matter of victory.
This was extinction.
Before him stood Zhong Chuke.Jin Zhuo.Princess Cang Yue.Tian Xi.Yao Yao.
And worst of all—
Her.
The recently revealed younger sister of the Fairy of the Northern Mountains.
Xue Ling.
His heart pounded violently. If he fell here, the Qiang State would fall with him. He had brought every soldier he had, believing this would be an easy conquest.
Instead, he now faced six Emperor Profound Realm experts—all standing calmly, all ready.
Desperation clawed at his throat.
"I must weaken them!" Alugang roared.
He raised the artifact in his hands, profound light surging as its runes ignited—
Too late.
Xue Ling was already there.
She drew Yubashiri in one smooth motion.
A single flash of steel.
The artifact was severed cleanly in half before its power could even activate, the broken halves tumbling uselessly to the ground.
Alugang's eyes widened.
Then—
A fist slammed into his face.
The impact shattered the air itself.
His body was hurled backward like a ragdoll, blood spraying as he crashed through stone and earth. The battlefield fell deathly silent.
Xue Ling stood where he had been, fist clenched, blade lowered.
Her expression was terrifying.
Cold.
Feral.
Unrestrained.
Even Cang Yue had never seen her like this.
Not wrath.
Not rage.
But the kind of fury that promised no mercy.
King Alugang staggered to his feet, blood streaming from his nose. His vision swam, pride shattered—but desperation burned hotter than fear.
"Attack—!!"
The remaining soldiers roared and surged forward as one.
An entire army…Against six Thrones.
It was never a battle.
It was a rout.
Zhong Chuke moved first—his figure blurring as he tore through the front lines, profound energy erupting with every strike. Jin Zhuo followed at his side, ruthless and efficient, the two of them carving straight through formations that collapsed faster than commands could be shouted.
To the flank, Tian Xi and Yao Yao moved together, perfectly in sync.
One step.
One strike.
Dozens fell.
Their Throne-level power flowed smoothly, devastatingly precise, cutting down enemies who never even realized they had crossed into killing range.
Then—
Cang Yue stepped forward.
She drew her three swords.
The air changed.
It was Wrath all over again—just like the day she had stood alone to defend the sanctuary, cutting down shadow monsters without mercy. Only this time, her enemies were men.
Her blades swept outward in a single wave.
More than a dozen soldiers were cut down instantly, bodies collapsing before the echoes of her strike faded.
And at the center of it all—
Xue Ling charged.
She went straight for King Alugang.
Their weapons collided with a thunderous shockwave that ripped through the ground, sending cracks racing outward. Alugang barely managed to block before the next blow came crashing down.
And the next.
And the next.
Xue Ling's attacks were not elegant.
They were brutal.
Each swing of Yubashiri landed like a sledgehammer, overwhelming, relentless. The indestructible katana remained flawless, its edge biting deep as she pressed forward without pause.
No breathing room.
No retreat.
No mercy.
King Alugang was forced backward step by step, arms screaming in protest as he struggled just to stay alive.
Xue Ling gave him nothing.
Only pressure.
Only fury.
And as the battlefield burned around them, one truth became undeniable—
This was no longer a war.
It was an execution in progress.
"Ittoryu—Daishinkan!(One Sword Style: Great Dragon Shock!)"
Cang Yue's blade descended.
A vast shockwave erupted outward, tearing through the battlefield like an invisible dragon. Soldiers were hurled away in all directions, formations collapsing instantly as the ground cracked beneath the pressure.
Now that her cultivation stood firmly within the Emperor Profound Realm, she could finally control the output of the technique. The terrifying Haoshoku effect that once accompanied it was deliberately excluded.
This was the version Yuyun had taught her.
A downgraded Daishinkan—safe, stable, and precise. Powerful enough to dominate the battlefield without tearing at her mind or spirit.
The soldiers stared in shock.
But Cang Yue did not slow.
She moved forward—relentless, fearless, without a shred of hesitation.
Her intent was clear.
She struck without the intent to kill.
Guided by Observation Haki, she weaved through the chaos, slipping past arrows before they were loosed, evading wild strikes before they completed their arcs. Every step was measured. Every movement efficient.
Not a single attack touched her.
Because she could not afford it.
Shin Yue's warning echoed in her mind.
If even a single drop of your blood falls… I will emerge.And I will destroy them all.
Cang Yue clenched her jaw and tightened her focus.
She would not let that happen.
Not here.Not now.
So she fought flawlessly—turning aside blades, disarming soldiers, breaking weapons and wills alike—leaving bodies scattered but alive.
The battlefield trembled beneath her advance.
And the soldiers began to realize—
This woman wasn't holding back because she was weak.
She was holding back because something far worse was being restrained.
However, in the midst of her relentless advance, something felt… wrong.
Cang Yue's movements did not falter, her blade still flowing with flawless precision—but her mind caught on a sudden absence.
Something's missing.
Her heart skipped.
The detonator.
The one Yun Che had entrusted to her.
The control device for the explosive marbles buried deep within the mountains—the single button capable of triggering a massive avalanche, of unleashing an ocean of snow that would bury the battlefield whole.
It wasn't at her waist.
It wasn't in her sleeve.
It was gone.
A chill far colder than winter crept up her spine.
Her eyes swept the battlefield even as she continued to dodge and strike, Observation Haki stretching outward—not to track enemies, but to search.
When…?
Where did I lose it?
Or worse… who took it?
If that detonator fell into the wrong hands—
Cang Yue's grip tightened on her sword.
This battle had just gained a new, terrifying variable.