The sky above the tower was no longer blue.
It churned like an inkstone, streaks of gold and scarlet tearing through the dark clouds, as though the heavens themselves had been wounded. The air trembled, heavy with a spiritual pressure so great that even the battle-hardened soldiers felt their knees weaken.
From the imperial tower, Li Yuan stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He had seen war before, but never this—never the gods themselves moving openly.
A ripple in the sky split into three columns of light, each descending with the precision of a spear. And in each column, a figure emerged.
They were not entirely human, nor entirely celestial. One bore armor woven of clouds, a sword of white jade in hand; another carried a guqin carved from bone, its strings thrumming without touch; the third's eyes burned like molten gold, their gaze sweeping the capital as if measuring its worth.
The court ministers knelt, some weeping, others trembling. Yet the generals standing on the steps—Xie Liang among them—did not bow.
"They've come for the empire," Xie murmured, voice low but steady. "And they'll strip it bare if they can."
Li Yuan turned slightly. "You've fought gods before?"
A ghost of a smile touched Xie's lips, though his eyes remained hard. "Once. Long ago, in the southern ranges. It cost me three thousand men and half my lifespan."
But before Li Yuan could ask more, an imperial guard stumbled in, his armor bloodied.
"Your Majesty—Lord Zhang has opened the western gates. Enemy banners flood the outer districts!"
The hall erupted into shouts. Ministers demanded immediate retreat, others called for negotiation, but Li Yuan's gaze narrowed.
So Zhang's betrayal was no longer whispers—it was reality.
And the timing was perfect. The gods in the sky were not passive spectators. As the western gate fell, the god with molten eyes stepped forward, raising his palm. A wave of divine energy surged outward, and in its wake, mortal soldiers simply dropped their weapons, their wills broken without a blade drawn.
"They're using Zhang's treachery to fracture our lines," Rui's voice came sharp from behind, his hair loose from the wind, his robes marked with soot.
Li Yuan met his gaze. "Then we fight with what's left. Together."
For a moment, Rui's lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. The city roared with chaos below them, and there was no room for hesitation.
Still, as they descended the tower side by side, the heat of Li Yuan's arm brushing his lingered longer than the thunder in the clouds.