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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The debate rapidly devolved from structured arguments into a chaotic, terrifying shouting match. The Grand Court Hall, designed with brilliant acoustics to amplify the Emperor's voice, now worked against him, turning the hundreds of arguing voices into a deafening, echoing roar of pure noise.
Civil officials were practically nose to nose, quoting conflicting verses from Confucius and Han Feizi, their faces contorted in anger.
On the right side of the hall, the military generals scoffed loudly at the scholars' squeamishness, some even resting their hands on the pommels of their ceremonial swords, loudly declaring that they would march to the Wang estate right now and end the debate with their own steel if the Emperor gave the word.
"Blood must answer for blood!"
"Show the grace of Heaven!"
"They will stab us in the back!"
The noise swelled into an uncontrollable, chaotic tempest. The immaculate, perfectly ordered machinery of the Hengyuan government had broken down completely, reduced to a rabble of terrified, passionate men screaming their ideologies into the incense filled air.
High upon the raised dais, Lie Fan watched the chaos unfold.
At first, he maintained a mask of patient observation. He had asked for their opinions, and he had expected passion. But as the seconds ticked by, and the structured debate deteriorated into a shameful, undignified brawl of shouting voices, a dark, dangerous thunderhead gathered over the Emperor's features.
His eyes, usually calm and calculating, narrowed into slits of absolute, terrifying fury. The men before him were acting like common merchants haggling over the price of fish in a muddy market square, not the supreme administrators of the greatest empire on earth.
Lie Fan's hand tightened around the smooth, cool shaft of his white jade royal scepter. His knuckles turned bone white.
He did not shout. He did not need to.
With a sudden, violent motion, Lie Fan brought the heavy, solid base of the royal scepter crashing down against the solid gold armrest of the Dragon Throne.
CLACK!
The sound was sharp, incredibly loud, and carried the physical weight of absolute imperial rage. But the arguing officials, lost in their own screaming match, barely noticed.
Lie Fan's jaw clenched. He raised the scepter higher and brought it down again, harder this time, putting the immense, terrifying strength of his martial prowess behind the blow.
CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
The repeated, deafening impacts echoed through the cavernous hall like the agonizing crack of breaking bones. The sheer, violent volume of the sound finally pierced the chaotic veil of the debate.
One by one, the shouting officials froze. They turned their heads toward the dais, their passionate fury instantly evaporating, replaced by a sudden, paralyzing terror as they looked upon the darkened, wrathful face of their Emperor.
Silence crashed down over the Grand Court Hall like a physical weight. The men who had been screaming at each other seconds ago now stood frozen in the center aisle, their breath catching in their throats, realizing the profound, potentially lethal mistake they had just made in losing their decorum before the Dragon Throne.
Lie Fan sat perfectly still for a long moment, letting the terrifying, suffocating silence stretch until the officials were practically vibrating with fear.
"Are you the exalted ministers of the Hengyuan Dynasty," Lie Fan finally spoke, his voice dangerously soft, yet carrying a lethal, cutting edge that reached every corner of the vast room, "or are you a pack of wild, starving dogs fighting over a scrap of meat in an alleyway?"
The officials in the center aisle immediately collapsed to their knees, pressing their faces hard against the cold obsidian floor, trembling violently. "Your Majesty, forgive us! We deserve death for our impudence! Forgive us!"
Lie Fan leaned forward, the jade beads of his crown swaying. "I asked for the profound wisdom of my court. I asked for historical precedent and legal counsel on a matter that will shape the legacy of this empire for a millennium. And in response, you give me a chaotic, deafening roar of unstructured panic. I could not hear a single, coherent thought among the lot of you!"
He waved his scepter dismissively at the groveling men in the aisle. "Get back to your ranks. All of you. Before I have the Imperial Guards drag you into the courtyard and teach you the meaning of silence with a bamboo rod."
The terrified officials scrambled backward on their hands and knees, desperately melting back into the rigid lines of their respective factions, keeping their heads bowed in profound shame.
Lie Fan let out a long, heavy breath, visibly reigning in his frustration. The chaotic outburst had proven one thing: the fate of the Cao clan was too massive, too emotionally and politically volatile a subject to be debated by the general assembly. It required the cold, surgical precision of the absolute highest echelons of his government.
He turned his gaze slightly to the left, locking eyes with the man who stood at the absolute forefront of the civil administration.
"Chancellor," Lie Fan commanded, his voice returning to a steady, commanding resonance.
Jia Xu stepped forward instantly. His dark, impenetrable eyes betrayed no emotion, but his posture was a flawless display of respectful submission. He bowed deeply toward the throne. "Your Imperial Majesty."
"This rabble has lost the right to speak freely on this matter," Lie Fan declared, pointing his scepter toward the vast sea of officials. "Bring order to this hall. You will take over the moderation of this debate. I want structured, brilliant, and logical counsel, not emotional shouting."
Lie Fan settled back against the golden dragons, his eyes sweeping over his inner circle. "You will choose who speaks. And you will ensure that the voices I hear belong to the men whose intellect I actually trust to weigh the life of an empire against the life of a bloodline."
Jia Xu raised his head, a thin, deeply calculating smile touching his lips. He understood the assignment perfectly. The Emperor did not want a democratic consensus; he wanted his most brilliant, ruthless architects to build a bulletproof argument for whatever dark decision he was about to make.
"I hear and obey, Your Imperial Majesty," Jia Xu replied, his voice carrying a dry, terrifying authority that instantly quelled any remaining whispers in the hall.
The Chancellor turned slowly, facing the assembled bureaucracy. His dark eyes swept over the ranks, passing over the terrified minor officials and locking solely onto the men who formed the true, beating heart of the Hengyuan brain trust.
The chaotic noise that had threatened to tear the dignity of the imperial court to shreds vanished entirely, replaced by an atmosphere so brittle and tense it felt as though the air itself had turned to glass. Chancellor Jia Xu, a man whose very shadow seemed to whisper of poison and pragmatism, stepped into the absolute center of the aisle.
He did not shout. He did not wave his arms. He merely stood there, his hands folded neatly within the voluminous sleeves of his dark, unadorned robes. His gaze, cold and impenetrable as a frozen lake, swept slowly across the terrified ranks of the bureaucracy. Where his eyes lingered, men held their breath.
"Your Imperial Majesty has demanded counsel," Jia Xu began, his voice a dry, rasping whisper that somehow carried flawlessly to the furthest corners of the Grand Court Hall. "Not the bickering of panicked scholars, but the cold, surgical logic required to sustain an empire. His Imperial Majesty has graced me with the moderation of this debate. Therefore, I shall set the standard."
Jia Xu turned slightly, bowing his head toward Lie Fan, who sat upon the golden throne like a dormant volcano, watching his Chancellor with dark, calculating eyes.
"With Your Imperial Majesty's permission," Jia Xu said, his tone perfectly even, "I will be the first to offer my counsel on the fate of the Cao Clan. And my counsel, born of decades watching dynasties rise and crumble into dust, is absolute."
Jia Xu turned back to face the assembly. He did not blink.
"I formally propose the invocation of the Nine Familial Exterminations," Jia Xu declared.
A collective, silent shudder ran through the hall, but no one dared to interrupt him.
"We are not dealing with a minor, disgruntled warlord," Jia Xu continued, his voice taking on the rhythmic, hypnotic cadence of a master orator. "The Cao Clan has proven itself to be historically, terrifyingly resilient. Cao Mengde built a leviathan from the ashes of the Han. His sons, Cao Pi, Cao Zhang, Cao Zhi... they are not mere pampered princes. They possess the venom, the martial strength, and the towering intellect of their father. To cage them is to merely delay the inevitable."
Jia Xu paced slowly, his dark robes sweeping across the obsidian floor. "Consider the long river of time, my lords. Today, our Emperor sits upon the throne, a living god of war. Tomorrow, the brilliant Crown Prince Muchen will succeed him. During their reigns, the Cao Clan would undoubtedly remain terrified and compliant in their gilded cage. But what of fifty years from now? What of a hundred? What of three hundred years in the future?"
He stopped, pointing a long, bony finger toward the high ceiling. "When His Imperial Majesty and the Crown Prince have ascended to the Heavens... when the generations of Hengyuan grow comfortable and complacent againts the Cao Clan... when the court begins to underestimate the danger of the Cao bloodline... that is when they will strike."
"A descendant of Cao Pi, raised in secret resentment, will find a crack in our armor. They will rally the disgruntled, they will whisper of ancient injustices, and they will return this humiliation tenfold. To leave the root in the earth is a betrayal of our descendants. The Cao Clan must be eradicated, down to the final drop of blood."
As Jia Xu's chilling, brutally pragmatic words hung in the incense filled air, a profound wave of silent agreement rippled through the hall.
On the military side, hardened veterans nodded their heads slowly, their faces grim but resolute. On the civil side, the more ruthless and calculating administrators, those who valued absolute state security over philosophical mercy, murmured their quiet, steadfast support for the Chancellor's uncompromising stance.
Having laid down the darkest, most definitive marker of the debate, Jia Xu assumed his role as moderator. He would not allow the rabble to speak. He sought out the voices that actually mattered.
"We shall hear from the civil administration first," Jia Xu announced, his eyes darting toward the middle ranks of the bureaucracy, intentionally selecting men who represented the functional, everyday machinery of the state. "Minister Feng. Censor Yao. Prefect Shen. Step forward and speak your minds before the throne."
Three officials, none of them historically famous but all highly respected within their respective ministries, hurried into the center aisle and bowed deeply.
"Chancellor, Your Majesty," Minister Feng began, his voice trembling slightly but gaining strength. "I must agree with Master Jia Xu. The logistical burden of guarding an entire royal clan in perpetuity is a nightmare. It requires our most elite soldiers to act as jailers for a century. Execute them, and free our resources to rebuild the central plains."
Censor Yao, a man known for his strict adherence to surveillance, shook his head. "I disagree. To slaughter them all invites the wrath of the heavens. I propose we let the Cao Clan's blood end naturally. We keep them under an absolute, suffocating watch. We monitor every meal, every conversation, every movement. From the eldest son down to the very smallest baby in the cradle, they will be tracked. If they try to slip away, or send their blood out of the mansion, we will know instantly, and then the executioner's blade falls legally."
Prefect Shen nodded vigorously. "Yes! A natural withering. We forbid marriage. We forbid continuation. In fifty years, the problem solves itself without staining the Emperor's hands with the blood of infants."
Jia Xu listened to the bureaucrats, his face an unreadable mask. "Your counsel is noted," he said dismissively, waving them back to their ranks. He then turned his attention to the right side of the hall, toward the towering wall of polished steel and martial pride.
"The empire was won on horseback," Jia Xu declared. "We shall now hear from the swords of Hengyuan. Vice Grand General Zhang Liao. General Taishi Ci. General Zhao Yun. Step forward."
The heavy, rhythmic clanking of armor echoed through the Grand Court Hall as the three warriors stepped into the center aisle. They were part of the men who had personally shattered the gates of Chang'An. Their words carried the heavy, undeniable weight of iron and blood.
Zhang Liao spoke first. He stood tall, his scarred face a testament to decades of warfare. "Your Majesty," Zhang Liao said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble. "I I have fought against Cao Cao long. He is a man who inspires fanatical devotion."
"His sons share that aura. In the military, we have a saying: 'You do not leave a wounded wolf near your sheep.' As long as Cao Pi breathes, there will be men who dream of raising his banner. A caged wolf is still a wolf. I stand with the Chancellor. End the bloodline, and ensure our soldiers never have to fight this war a second time."
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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