The moment Tie Hongchen's words fell, her aura exploded outward like a rising tide. The heavens seemed to tremble as an invisible pressure descended. Even the Golden Phoenix Emissary, who had been so delighted by his own recent breakthrough, now found his heart sinking. His face darkened, his earlier confidence draining away as an icy realization struck—
He had been played.
From the very beginning, Tie Hongchen had never once considered him a worthy opponent. She had toyed with him, like a lion amusing itself with a trapped rabbit.
A cold dread gripped his heart. If Tie Hongchen's strength was already this terrifying, yet she openly admitted that she still lagged behind Tai Jian… then just how powerful was her husband?
The thought alone made his will to fight vanish. For the first time, he felt small—insignificant before the towering shadow cast by the two of them.
Tie Hongchen's voice, sharp and merciless, cut into his mind like a blade.
"My husband once said that even though you are strong, you will never reach the pinnacle of martial arts. That is why he never considered you an opponent. The Shadow Guild may praise you as the strongest—above a million but beneath only one—but your mind is weak. Without the guild, you are nothing."
The emissary trembled. Her words hit harder than any sword strike. His thoughts scattered, his willpower splintered. This was not just a duel of blades—it was a war of spirit, and he was already defeated.
But then, another voice resounded across the battlefield. Deep, resonant, and scornful, it shattered Tie Hongchen's charm technique like glass.
"Oh? If that is so, then without Tai Jian, are you not also nothing?"
Tie Hongchen's lips curved into a mocking smile. Her gaze shifted toward the new arrival.
"You finally appear. It seems this chess piece still has its use to you, Golden Emissary."
The emphasis on his title made her meaning clear to everyone present.
From the shadows stepped a man clad in dazzling golden armor. His presence was heavy, commanding, the very air rippling around him. In his hand gleamed a sword engraved with the emblem of a phoenix. The sight of the armor meant only one thing—this was the true Golden Phoenix Emissary.
The one Tie Hongchen had been battling froze, his eyes widening. The truth struck him with cruel clarity—he was not the emissary at all. He was merely a pawn, a disposable stand-in.
Dejection filled him at first. But then, perhaps from despair, perhaps from madness, he erupted into wild, unrestrained laughter. The sound echoed hollowly against the golden armor.
Tie Hongchen's eyes remained calm, yet inwardly, a memory stirred. The sight of the true emissary reminded her of words Tai Jian had once spoken.
---
"Tai Jian, if you were more heartless, you could have ended them already. Otherwise, you will always carry a weakness," she had said, her tone cold that night after leaving the Empress Dowager's palace.
Her husband's reply had been quiet, but steady.
"Sometimes, weakness is not necessarily a bad thing. Who in this world can claim to be free of worry? Who dares claim to be utterly heartless? If I placed a sword in your hand and told you to strike me—or your parents—would you not hesitate?"
She had faltered. And Tai Jian had smiled faintly.
"Emotional attachments are chains, yes, but they are also bonds. It is hard to reach our level. Those who have are never ordinary. Love drives us to foolish acts. We might sacrifice much and gain nothing, but even so, there is no need to punish a lover."
Tie Hongchen had asked then, "And what about power? Do you think love cannot lead someone to crave power?"
"Even if it does," Tai Jian had answered, "you will not kill them. Because once you do, the bond is severed forever. If I placed a sword in your hand and told you to strike your brother, would you do it?"
Her silence had lasted long before she whispered, "I… don't know."
"That hesitation," Tai Jian had said, "means your heart is still alive. Remember this world is a chessboard. Most of us are pawns—expendable, replaceable. Sad, but true. Only by advancing, only by enduring, can we hope to become players rather than pieces. Even then, strength alone is not enough. No matter how strong we become, there will always be someone stronger. All we can do is move forward."
She remembered the way he had gazed at her afterward, eyes heavy with meaning, as though trying to imprint her very existence into his soul.
When she had asked about the Shadow Guild, he had only smiled.
"They are pawns too. Pawns dressed as queens and knights. But not the real players."
"And the Golden Phoenix Emissary? Why spare him again and again?" she had pressed.
"Because I pity him," Tai Jian had replied. "He is not even worthy of being a pawn, yet he is used as a substitute. His mindset is weak. He will never be a knight. Better to use him as a whetstone, a seed for a larger game. As for the true emissary… he is terrifying, yes, but not beyond reach. With effort, he can be slain."
At that time, she had not understood. But now—seeing the armored man before her—she finally did.
---
"So," Tie Hongchen murmured, eyes narrowing, "another opponent defeated by my husband. Both the real and the false now stand before me. No—let me correct myself. The body and the clone."
Her hand rested lightly on her sword. For the first time, the blade slid a fraction from its sheath, its sharp edge glinting like moonlight. But she made no move to draw it fully.
"Now that I stand before you, will you not unsheathe your sword?" the true emissary asked coldly.
The clone trembled. Its silence was louder than words.
Tie Hongchen sneered.
"How does it feel? To have a clone with its own will? Surely you've longed to devour it. Why not let me rid you of this nuisance?"
The true emissary's golden eyes narrowed.
"No need. I can deal with it myself." He turned to his double, voice like thunder. "Come!"
At once, the clone's eyes turned golden. Step by step, it advanced. The ground cracked under its feet, its aura rising to match its master's.
Tie Hongchen leaned back, lips curling into a devilish grin. Her eyes glittered with interest. This was not merely a battle—it was a spectacle. And she was content to watch.
The two figures clashed.
Golden light burst forth, blinding and violent. The clone's fist shot forward like a meteor, while the true emissary swung his phoenix-engraved blade in a wide arc. Metal met flesh, sparks flew, shockwaves rippled across the ground.
Dust rose. Trees splintered. The very air screamed under the weight of their power.
But just as the clone closed in, its golden eyes flickered—and dimmed. For the briefest instant, its will wavered.
The true emissary's instincts screamed danger. He leaped back—but too late.
A palm strike, sudden and fierce, landed squarely on his shoulder. The impact sent him skidding back, his armor dented, blood spraying from his lips. The strike had missed his heart by a fraction.
Tie Hongchen laughed softly, her voice dripping with amusement.
"You are too overconfident. That is your fatal flaw."
The true emissary staggered, his face twisted in fury. The clone, its eyes once more golden, stepped forward again.
The battle between body and clone was not only one of strength but of willpower. And to Tie Hongchen, watching from the sidelines, it was utterly captivating. She remained seated, blade half-drawn, her gaze locked on the spectacle before her.
She would not interfere—not yet.
Because sometimes, watching a pawn struggle against itself was far more interesting than cutting it down.