The Nobles Stir
The west did not kneel. While the south smoldered in ash, the noble houses fortified their manors, hoarding food and weapons, each proclaiming themselves heirs to the empire. Some declared themselves kings of their valleys, others emperors of "new dawns." Banners stitched in midnight silk or golden thread fluttered over towers.
But beneath the noise of proclamations, fear gnawed at their foundations. They knew what had burned in the south. They whispered of the man who had turned a throne of relics into dust. Still, pride makes fools of men — and pride is what the west wore as its armor.
The Watchtower Decides
In the fractured tower, Hei Long's women gathered again.
Qingxue stood at the window, gazing toward the western hills. "Steel fortresses. Fortified manors. They think themselves mountains." She drew her blade, the edge glinting like ice. "Then let me be the avalanche."
