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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"Please, Madam, there is no need for such rigid formalities tonight," Lie Fan insisted warmly, extending his hand to gesture for Sima Fu and the other brothers to rise as well. "We are not in the Great Hall, and I am not wearing my crown. We are in the home of my sister and my esteemed Minister. Tonight, we are simply family. Let us discard the protocols and enjoy the evening."
The tension in the room instantly evaporated, replaced by a profound, palpable relief and deep gratitude for the Emperor's magnanimous grace.
The rest of the evening was a masterpiece of domestic warmth. A magnificent banquet was laid out in the grand dining hall of the Sima estate. The food was rich, the wine flowed freely, and the conversation was entirely devoid of military logistics or the fate of doomed dynasties.
They talked of the upcoming harvest festivals, shared childhood stories of Lie Fan and Wannian that made the imperial children roar with laughter, and debated the finer points of calligraphy with Sima Fu and the younger brothers.
Ma Chao and Zhao Yun stood near the entryways, partaking in the fine food brought to them by the servants, exchanging quietly amused glances as they watched the most powerful man in the world playfully argue with his younger sister over who was their mother's favorite child.
When the hour grew late and the younger children began to rub their eyes with exhaustion, Lie Fan finally stood, signaling the end of the joyous visit. Warm hugs were exchanged, promises for future visits were made, and Lie Fan, his heart profoundly full, led his family back to the carriages. Under the light of a full, silver moon, the procession returned to the Harem Palace, concluding a day of perfect, untainted happiness.
Two days passed since the idyllic outing at the Sima estate. The brief, necessary window of leisure had closed. The machinery of the Hengyuan Empire demanded its master.
It was the morning of the long awaited Grand Imperial Court meeting.
The atmosphere surrounding the main political wing of the palace was electric, humming with a suppressed, terrifyingly powerful energy. This was not a standard administrative gathering, this was the first formal court session since the absolute annihilation of the Wei Dynasty.
The fate of the continent, the distribution of newly conquered lands, and the ultimate judgment of the era's greatest rivals would be decided within these walls.
The Grand Court Hall was an architectural marvel of intimidating scale and breathtaking artistry. Massive, blood red pillars carved with soaring golden dragons held up a ceiling that seemed as high as the heavens themselves.
The floors were polished black obsidian, reflecting the light of a thousand enormous bronze braziers that filled the vast space with the sharp, clean scent of expensive incense.
The entirety of the imperial bureaucracy had assembled. The sheer concentration of power in the room was staggering.
Standing in immaculate, perfectly aligned rows on the left side of the hall were the civil officials. Led by Chancellor Jia Xu, Grand Secretary Chen Qun, and the brilliant minds of Chen Gong, Liu Ye, Lu Su, Zhuge Liang, Lu Xun, the other advisors, and the State Teachers, this side of the hall represented the economic, legal, and administrative lifeblood of the empire.
They wore flowing, elaborate robes of deep blue and violet, their hands tucked respectfully into their wide sleeves.
On the right side of the vast central aisle stood the martial might of Hengyuan. The military officials were an awe inspiring wall of polished steel, scarred leather, and ferocious pride. Led by Grand Commandant Xun You, Minister of War Sima Yi, the Grand General Huangfu Song, the Vice Grand General Zhang Liao, and the generals Taishi Ci, Ma Chao, Zhao Yun, and more, this side of the hall represented the blood, iron, and unrelenting violence that had conquered the world.
Hundreds of men, the absolute elite of an empire that stretched from the eastern oceans to the western mountains, stood in complete, suffocating silence, their eyes fixed firmly on the elevated dais at the far end of the hall.
A sharp, booming strike of a ceremonial gong echoed through the cavernous space, causing the very air to vibrate.
"The Emperor approaches!" a senior Imperial Maid roared, her voice carrying flawlessly over the assembly.
From the heavy, golden lacquered doors behind the dais, Lie Fan emerged.
He was a terrifying, magnificent vision of divine authority. He had shed the black iron armor of the warlord for the absolute, transcendent majesty of the Mianfu, the supreme ceremonial robes of the Emperor.
The heavy silk was a profound, midnight black, embroidered with the twelve ancient, sacred symbols of imperial authority in vibrant threads of gold, crimson, and jade. Dragons coiled across his chest and shoulders, seeming to writhe in the flickering light of the braziers.
Upon his head rested the Mian'guan, the traditional Chinese imperial crown, a flat, rectangular board from which twelve strings of precious jade beads cascaded down over his eyes, symbolizing the Emperor's duty to see beyond the superficial and look only at the profound truths of the realm.
In his right hand, he gripped a long, intricately carved royal scepter of pure, flawless white jade, a physical manifestation of his absolute mandate.
Every step he took up the raised dais seemed to resonate with the heartbeat of the empire. The silence in the hall was absolute, the only sound was the heavy rustle of his silken robes and the soft, rhythmic clicking of the jade beads on his crown.
Lie Fan reached the summit of the dais. He turned slowly, his imposing figure framed by a massive, gilded screen depicting a black dragon ascending into the clouds. He looked out over the sea of brilliant minds and lethal warriors arrayed before him.
From his position at the head of the civil officials, Chancellor Jia Xu raised his hands, bringing them together in a sharp, crisp clap that signaled the assembly.
As one singular, massive entity, the hundreds of officials on both the left and right sides of the hall dropped to their knees. The sound of their heavy robes and armor hitting the obsidian floor was like a sudden thunderclap. They bowed so deeply their foreheads pressed against the cold, polished stone.
"We welcome His Imperial Majesty!" the massive chorus roared, a sound of absolute, fanatical devotion that shook the dust from the high rafters. "Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years to the Emperor of Hengyuan!"
Through the veil of jade beads, a slow, immensely satisfied smile spread across Lie Fan's face. He looked at the men who had bled for him, the men who had plotted for him, and the men who had governed for him. He had taken a fractured, dying land and forged it into an unstoppable monolith of power.
Lie Fan raised his left hand in a slow, magnanimous gesture.
"Rise, my loyal subjects," Lie Fan commanded, his deep, resonant voice effortlessly filling the massive Grand Court Hall, carrying the warmth of a father and the iron of a conqueror. "Stand, and be at ease. Today is a day of triumph for us all."
The officials rose in perfect unison, their eyes shining with reverence, though they kept their gazes respectfully lowered.
Lie Fan turned, his ceremonial robes sweeping majestically around his boots, and took his seat upon the massive, intricately carved golden Dragon Throne. The sheer weight and history of the seat seemed to perfectly mold to his imposing frame.
He looked out over the hushed, expectant hall. He gripped the white jade royal scepter in his right hand. With a slow, deliberate motion, Lie Fan brought the heavy base of the scepter down against the solid wooden armrest of the throne.
CLACK.
The sharp, resounding tap echoed through the cavernous hall like a gunshot. It was the absolute, undeniable sound of a new era beginning.
"The Grand Imperial Court is now in session," Emperor Lie Fan declared, his eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying brilliance. "Let the ledgers of merit be opened, and let the final judgments of the old world be spoken."
With the Emperor's declaration still echoing in the high, painted rafters of the Grand Court Hall, Chancellor Jia Xu stepped smoothly forward from the vanguard of the civil officials.
His movements were precise, devoid of any wasted energy, perfectly reflecting the mind that had orchestrated the internal stability of the entire empire. He walked to the center of the vast aisle, standing equidistant between the military and civil factions, and bowed deeply toward the Dragon Throne.
"By the mandate of His Imperial Majesty, the court is open," Jia Xu announced, his voice carrying a dry, resonant authority that commanded absolute attention. "We shall commence with the direct petitions and memorials to the throne. Let those with matters of urgent imperial concern step forward and be heard."
This portion of the court was traditionally a chaotic barrage of regional grievances and ambitious proposals. However, today, the sheer, crushing weight of the recent victory had significantly thinned the ranks of petitioners. Few officials wished to interrupt the celebration of total conquest with mundane administrative complaints.
Only a handful of brave, or perhaps overly ambitious, officials stepped into the center aisle.
The Prefect of Xu Province stepped forward first, nervously offering a detailed proposal to reroute several major trade canals to bypass a historically flood prone valley, arguing it would increase grain transit efficiency by twenty percent.
Lie Fan leaned forward, listening intently. He did not dismiss the man. He considered the geography, the immediate cost in labor, and the long term economic yield.
"The logic is sound, Prefect," Lie Fan finally judged, his voice echoing loudly. "Increasing the flow of grain to the capital is vital for our upcoming population booms. However, your timeline is too aggressive. You propose conscripting ten thousand laborers immediately before the winter harvest. That will cripple the local yields. The petition is approved in concept, but revised in execution. You will commence the digging after the winter stores are secured. Minister Mi Zhu will oversee the adjusted funding."
The Prefect bowed furiously, immensely relieved not to be outright dismissed. "Your Majesty is infinitely wise!"
A junior censor then stepped forward, proposing a rather draconian increase in the salt tax across the newly integrated central plains to immediately recoup the financial losses of the campaign against Wei.
Lie Fan's eyes narrowed instantly, the jade beads of his crown clicking as he shook his head. "Denied," the Emperor snapped, his tone brooking absolutely no argument.
"The people of Wei have suffered under Cao Cao's relentless wartime taxation for a decade. If my first act as their new Emperor is to bleed them dry for salt, they will curse the Black Dragon, not bless him. We will absorb the cost of the war from the imperial treasury, not from the backs of exhausted farmers. Do not bring such short sighted cruelty before this throne again."
The censor paled rapidly, retreating back into the ranks with his head bowed in shame.
The petition period did not last long. Within an hour, the few genuinely pressing matters were either approved, decisively rejected, or sent back to the ministries for heavy revision. Lie Fan's judgments were swift, pragmatic, and entirely focused on the long term stability of the realm.
Seeing no further ministers step forward, Jia Xu clapped his hands once. "The petitions are concluded. We move to the matters of state and martial honor."
Lie Fan sat back against the golden dragons of his throne, his expression sobering. He gripped his jade scepter tightly.
"The banners of Hengyuan fly over Chang'An today," Lie Fan began, his voice dropping to a low, solemn register that instantly hushed the entire hall. "But those banners were not raised by the wind. They were raised by the blood, the bone, and the unbreakable spirit of the men who marched into the west and did not return."
He looked toward the right side of the hall, toward the heavily scarred, proud faces of his military commanders.
"We celebrate the victory, but we must never, ever forget the cost," Lie Fan declared. "Therefore, I propose the construction of a grand monument. Not a statue of myself, and not a palace for my wives. I want a colossal, black obsidian stele erected on the highest hill outside the western gates of Xiapi."
"It shall be called the 'Altar of the Iron Blood.' Upon it, we will carve the name of every single soldier who fell during the campaign against Wei and in previous campaigns, and leave space for those who may fall in the campaigns to come."
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 36 (203 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 1,010 (+20)
VIT: 659 (+20)
AGI: 653 (+10)
INT: 691
CHR: 98
WIS: 569
WILL: 436
ATR Points: 0