The battlefield reeked of blood and smoke. Corpses were scattered across the plains, the earth dyed crimson as two forces clashed in an unrelenting storm of blades and flames. But away from the thunder of armies, a duel far more terrifying unfolded.
The golden phoenix emissary stood opposite his own reflection—his clone. Both were drenched in blood, their breaths ragged, their bodies on the brink of collapse. Their fight had reached the point where each strike was less about dominance and more about stubborn survival.
The emissary gritted his teeth. Why? Why can't I suppress it?
Not long ago, this clone had been nothing more than an extension of his will, a tool to be wielded and discarded at whim. He had even wiped fragments of its consciousness before, erasing sparks of rebellion with a flick of his divine sense. Yet now… now the clone resisted him with an iron will of its own. No matter how he pressed, no matter what secret arts he unleashed, it refused to yield.
Even worse, after its recent breakthrough, its consciousness had not only stabilized—it had grown sharper, more dangerous, more cunning. A faint dread gnawed at the emissary's heart. He realized that he, once the master, now stared at something beyond his control.
Their final clash left them staggering. Both coughed blood, their weapons trembling. They were shadows of their former might, two beasts locked in mutual destruction.
From the sidelines, Tie Hongchen watched calmly, her expression unreadable. A faint smile played on her lips as she fanned the flames of despair with words sharper than any blade.
"Golden emissary," she said softly, her tone laced with mockery, "you can't even defeat your own clone. Yet you think yourself fit to challenge me? If I say your state of mind is flawed, would you believe it now?"
The emissary's eyes burned with fury. "What did you do to it? A mere breakthrough isn't enough to sever its obedience. Unless… unless you tampered with it."
Tie Hongchen's laughter was like ice, echoing across the battlefield. "Tampered? No. I merely triggered a little trick my husband left behind. The problem with you is arrogance. You believe the world bends beneath your wings, yet you don't even notice the strings binding your limbs. You've been a fool all along."
"You…" the emissary growled, but his strength faltered.
"Just like now." Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "You think you're buying time, hoping your clone will merge back into you. But—"
She stopped suddenly, her gaze shifting beyond him. Her aura flared in warning. "Another emissary." A sharp snort left her lips. "Hmph. We will continue this discussion another time. For now, farewell."
Before the wounded emissary could react, her power surged. With terrifying ease, Tie Hongchen ensnared both him and his clone, binding their weakened bodies with a net of spiritual force. Neither had the strength to resist. In the blink of an eye, she vanished into the void, taking them with her.
Moments later, a figure clad in purple descended upon the empty battlefield. Her face was cold, her eyes sweeping across the lingering traces of battle. She had arrived too late.
Meanwhile, chaos still roared on the other side of the field.
The clash between Tai Jian's army and the Shadow Guild's forces painted the land in carnage. Screams mingled with steel, rivers of blood carved new paths into the soil. Tai Jian's soldiers fought with the discipline of veterans who had crossed countless mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. Each man was a blade sharpened by endless battles, their formation flawless under the command of a capable deputy.
Yet the Shadow Guild was no weakling. The troops Tai Jian's army faced were not the true elites—they were fodder, pawns sent to probe, to test. If the army faltered even here, how could they ever hope to face the Guild's real killers?
High above, Di Yi observed everything with a detached calm. His expression betrayed neither concern nor anger as he watched pawns clash and perish.
A voice cut into the air. The purple-dressed emissary knelt before him, her tone grave. "Master, Number Two has been defeated. That girl captured him."
Di Yi did not even blink. "Fall back."
The emissary's lips parted in hesitation. She had expected such indifference, yet the sting of it still burned. In Di Yi's eyes, they were not comrades, not family—merely tools. Useful tools were polished and sharpened. Broken ones were discarded without a second thought.
It was cruel. But cruelty was the law of the Shadow Guild.
"Master…" she murmured, her voice trembling.
"You think me unfair?" Di Yi's gaze turned to her, cold and cutting.
The emissary dropped her head instantly, her body stiff with fear. "I dare not."
"To me," Di Yi continued, his voice carrying the weight of iron, "all of you are pieces. Replaceable. Expendable. That is the truth of this world. Only strength makes one irreplaceable. If you cannot accept this, then you will never rise above mediocrity."
His words struck like thunder.
The emissary bit her lips until blood welled, her body trembling.
"You are dismissed," Di Yi waved. "The sooner you learn your place, the better for you."
She hesitated, then gathered her courage. "Master… may I not fight her?"
Di Yi's lips curved into something between cruelty and amusement. "No. I want to see if she has the cruelty to kill her own sister."
The purple emissary's heart froze. Her sister. Tie Hongchen.
She bowed low and retreated, her figure trembling as she walked away. Once outside, her eyes shone with unshed tears and fierce determination. She knew her fate was sealed. She could not kill her sister. She would rather die herself—but death was not an option. Bound by the Shadow Guild's seals, even suicide was denied to her.
If I cannot choose… then I will endure. But I will never raise my blade against her.
Somewhere far away, Tie Hongchen remained unaware that her own blood—her sister—was trapped in the same game.
Back on the battlefield, Tai Jian's forces retreated in perfect order under the guidance of the deputy commander. Their discipline was unmatched, their coordination flawless, a force rare in any age. Yet this was no ordinary age. This was an era where countless prodigies rose like stars in a stormy sky, an era where talent bloomed like wildfire.
And in such an era, even armies forged from mountains of corpses could find themselves obsolete.
The board was vast. The pieces were moving. And the true players had yet to reveal their hands.