The decree to bring the Withering Lily, Wang Xia, to the Black Dragon Citadel was met with silent obedience from the terrified Wang Family. But in the wider Luo Region, it was the final straw. The announcement, issued under the Phoenix Queen's seal, was not seen as an act of mercy. It was seen as the caprice of a tyrant's plaything, a blatant seizure of a vulnerable daughter from a minor clan for purposes no one dared imagine.
The fear the Ancestor had cultivated had curdled into a desperate, reckless fury. The constant, inexplicable breakthroughs of his power, the humiliating subjugation under a concubine's rule, the draining tributes, and now this—it was too much. A coalition of first-grade forces—the Scarlet Thunder Fortress, the Howling Mountain Sect, and the remnants of the emboldened Hidden Su Clan—forged a desperate alliance. Their target was not the impregnable Black Dragon Citadel, but its newest acquisition: the Profound Yin Sect, the former home of Chu Ling and a symbol of the Lu Clan's expanding reach.
They struck at dawn, their forces swelled by mysterious outside experts whose techniques were alien to the Luo Region. The sky above the Profound Yin Sect's misty peaks turned bloody with the light of unleashed arts. Spiritual explosions rocked the tranquil mountains as defensive formations shattered under the concentrated assault.
In the Citadel, the Ancestor felt the disturbance through his connection to the land. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face. He had been expecting this. The rebellion was not an inconvenience; it was the next phase of the fertilizer's application.
He found Su Wan in her chambers, gazing out a window towards the distant tumult, her face pale. The news had reached her.
"It seems your rule is not universally popular, my Queen," he said, his voice light, almost amused.
She turned, her eyes wide with a conflict he loved to see—the programmed obedience warring with her lingering humanity. "The Profound Yin Sect… they will be slaughtered."
"A ruler does not weep for a single tree when the forest is on fire," he replied, stepping closer. "A ruler puts out the fire. Personally."
He gestured. Two stewardesses approached, carrying not silks, but armor. It was a masterpiece of smithing and qi-forging: the Phoenix Battle Garb. The cuirass was shaped like outspread phoenix wings, crafted from overlapping plates of crimson spirit-metal that shimmered with contained fire. The gauntlets were tipped with claws of obsidian, and the helmet was a fearsome, elegant visor shaped like a phoenix's beak and crest.
"You are the Overlord," the Ancestor stated, his tone leaving no room for refusal. "The symbol of my will. That symbol must now be defended. Not by me. By you. Let them see that the woman they dismiss as a ornament holds the power to break them."
The manipulation was perfect. He was giving her a cause, a purpose beyond her gilded cage. He was appealing to the very defiance he had buried, channeling it for his own ends.
As the armor was fastened onto her, a change came over Su Wan. The weight of the metal, the purpose of it, stirred something ancient within her—the war-shriek of the Yin Phoenix, the part of her bloodline that was not about nurturing, but about protecting its domain with divine fury. The hollow light in her eyes was replaced by a blazing silver fire.
The Ancestor handed her a spear, its shaft of white ash, its tip a single, burning feather of solidified Phoenix energy. "Go," he commanded. "Lead your Blackscale Guards. Show the Luo Region the price of defiance."
The main gates of the Black Dragon Citadel swung open. Su Wan, the Phoenix Queen, rode out on a spirit-steed wreathed in shadow. She was a vision of terrifying beauty and absolute power, her regal aura replaced by a palpable killing intent. Behind her, five hundred Blackscale Guards moved in perfect, silent unison, a wave of obsidian death.
The sight that greeted the provinces was one that would be etched into legend and nightmare. The Overlord of the Luo Domain, in magnificent phoenix armor, leading her dread guards into the heart of the battle at the Profound Yin Sect.
She did not shout commands. She was the command. Her spear became a tongue of silver fire. With a sweep, she unleashed a wave of Yin energy so cold it flash-froze a charging squad of Scarlet Thunder cavalry, their bodies shattering on the wind. A Howling Mountain elder launched a boulder the size of a house at her; she pointed her spear, and a phantom Phoenix shrieked forth, obliterating it into dust.
She was a whirlwind of divine vengeance. The Blackscale Guards, empowered by her presence and the Ancestor's will flowing through their own formations, cut through the rebel forces like a scythe through wheat. The mysterious outside experts tried to counter her, weaving complex arrays, but the Phoenix energy, a power of the highest order, simply unraveled their lesser magics.
The battle was less a fight and more a slaughter. The rebels' morale broke completely at the sight of the woman they had scorned becoming an avatar of destruction. They fled, but there was no escape from the relentless Blackscale Guards.
High above, invisible on a cloud of condensed void, the Ancestor watched. He lounged on a throne of air, sipping celestial wine, a conductor savoring a symphony of his own composition.
[Combat Data: Breeder #001 combat efficiency: 98%. Phoenix Bloodline synchronization: Increased by 12%.]
[Enemy morale: Broken. Rebel forces: 87% annihilated.] [Objective: Demonstrate absolute dominance through secondary asset: Successful.]
[Secondary Objective: Identify 'outside experts'. Energy signature analysis: Matches 'Northern Frozen Soul Valley'. Connection to Target Ye Fan's future allies confirmed. Data recorded.]
He giggled, a soft, happy sound. It was all going perfectly. The rebellion had been a necessary purge of discontent, a show of force that cemented Su Wan's terrifying image, and a perfect intelligence-gathering operation on Ye Fan's potential future network. He had not lifted a finger.
Below, Su Wan stood amidst the ruins of the battlefield, her Phoenix armor stained with ash and frost, her spear still glowing. The silver fire in her eyes dimmed, leaving behind not hollowness, but a grim, weary satisfaction. She had protected something. She had been strong.
She believed she had acted of her own will, for her people.
She never saw the invisible strings that had moved her, the puppeteer in the sky who had orchestrated the entire conflict for his amusement and profit. As she ordered the cleanup and the securing of the Profound Yin Sect, she felt, for the first time since her capture, a flicker of genuine purpose.
The Ancestor watched her, his smile deepening. The best lies were the ones his possessions told themselves. The battlefield was cleared. The rebellion was crushed. The Phoenix had spread her wings. And the gardener had effortlessly weeded another patch of his field, all while making his most beautiful flower believe she was the one reaching for the sun.