The old eunuch shrieked, his voice filled with a hint of sorrow.
His white robes were splattered with black blood, and his breathing was heavy.
Although an Innate master was strong, facing so many enemies, his Internal Energy would eventually be exhausted.
Zhao Yuanbao sat stunned on the Dragon Throne, witnessing the bloody battle before him.
He ascended the throne at twenty, ruling for only three years, and never imagined that the Great Wu Dynasty's three-hundred-year foundation would be destroyed in his hands.
The sounds of fighting outside the hall grew closer; it was the Imperial City's last defenders fighting to the death.
"I... I won't leave."
Zhao Yuanbao suddenly stood up, drew the sword from his waist, and said with a firm tone:
"I am the Son of Heaven of Great Wu; how can I flee in panic like a stray dog?"
Upon hearing this, a trace of sorrow flashed in the old eunuch's eyes.
At that instant, three death warriors lunged simultaneously, their sharp nails aiming straight for his throat.
The old eunuch hastily met the attack, shattering the heads of two death warriors with a palm strike, but the third one left a small wound on his shoulder.
The death warriors seemed to sense the old eunuch was injured, and their attacks became even more frenzied.
They advanced over the bodies of their comrades, their eyes filled only with killing intent.
After repelling an unknown number of enemy waves, the old eunuch's Internal Energy finally ran out.
He said in a trembling voice:
"Your Majesty... this old servant... can't hold on any longer..."
Staggering back a few steps, he leaned against the Dragon Throne, shielding Zhao Yuanbao behind him.
Zhao Yuanbao's hand, gripping the sword, trembled slightly.
He had never truly been on a battlefield, and at this moment, facing these monsters who feared no death, fear surged like a tide.
But he knew he had no way out.
"Kill!"
He mustered his courage, and relying on his second-rate Martial Artist physique, he pierced a lunging death warrior with his sword.
However, even with his chest pierced, the death warrior refused to stop, instead lunging along the blade, his hands tightly gripping Zhao Yuanbao's neck.
"Ugh..."
Zhao Yuanbao felt suffocated, his vision blurring.
At the critical moment, the death warrior was struck dead by the old eunuch's palm.
This palm strike nearly exhausted his last bit of strength; he swayed a few times before barely steadying himself.
He looked back at Zhao Yuanbao, his cloudy eyes filled with determination:
"Your Majesty... this old servant will go on ahead."
Before he finished speaking, the old eunuch's entire body suddenly erupted in dazzling golden light—
He charged towards the palace gate like a burning sun.
"Boom—"
A deafening explosion rang out, shattering thousands of death warriors and instantly clearing a vacuum in front of the palace gate.
This was the final, desperate strike of an Innate master.
"Uncle Fu!"
Zhao Yuanbao fell to his knees, tears blurring his eyes.
But the death warriors quickly surged forward again, like an unending black tide.
Zhao Yuanbao tremblingly raised his long sword, preparing for his final resistance.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
But this last struggle was meaningless; he was quickly hacked to death by the death warriors who rushed in... At this moment—
Ten li outside Chang'an City, Yun Fei quietly watched the thick smoke continuously rising from the direction of the Imperial Palace.
The sun was setting in the west.
The smoke and dust in the Imperial Palace gradually dispersed.
Even within Chang'an City, silence slowly returned.
Yun Fei sensed that the range of his summoned death warriors had shrunk by a circle.
He understood in his heart that the casualties in this battle were not small.
At least two hundred thousand troops were lost, a small number of whom died in the city defense, but the most severe casualties occurred at the moment of breaching the Imperial Palace.
At that time, every time a batch of death warriors rushed in, he could feel the summoning range shrink accordingly.
Now it had finally stopped shrinking.
After greeting Liu Ming, they decided to enter the city.
The city was already devastated.
Most of the common people hid in their homes, not daring to go out.
The remnants of the defeated army were almost all killed; no resistance could be seen.
Entering the Imperial Palace, a bloody smell permeated everywhere. The entire palace seemed to be soaked in fresh blood, appearing entirely crimson.
Stepping in, his feet were almost submerged in blood.
This was truly a river of blood.
The bloody sunset enveloped Chang'an City, reflecting the glazed tiles of the Imperial Palace as if they were steeped in a sea of blood.
In the southwest corner of the Imperial City, the last wisp of resistance slowly dissipated, announcing the official end of the Great Wu Dynasty's three-hundred-year rule.
Yun Fei walked into the Taiji Hall, treading on thick blood, his boot soles making an unpleasant squelching sound.
He surveyed the mountains of corpses piled inside the hall—Imperial Guards, eunuchs, palace maids... and the young emperor who had been hacked into a bloody mess.
Zhao Yuanbao's head rolled beside the Dragon Throne, his eyes wide open, frozen in his last moment of fear and unwillingness.
"My Lord, the Imperial Palace has been completely cleared."
Liu Ming walked quickly, the hem of his purple robe already stained dark purple with blood.
"According to your orders, not a single member of the Zhao imperial family and the five great clans remains."
"The other clan members have also been identified from the family registers and are being eliminated one by one."
Yun Fei nodded slightly, slowly walking towards the Dragon Throne that symbolized supreme power.
His fingertips lightly caressed the Dragon patterns on the armrest, feeling the still-wet bloodstains.
"Liu Ming."
He suddenly spoke, his tone terrifyingly calm.
"Tell me, why are so many people willing to die for a chair?"
A hint of surprise flashed in Liu Ming's eyes, then he respectfully replied:
"Because it's not just a chair, My Lord. It represents the Mandate of Heaven and also the world."
"The world..."
Yun Fei repeated softly.
In just ten days, he had seized a Dynasty.
Even now, he felt a bit in a daze.
However, he quickly collected his thoughts, turned around, and slowly sat down under everyone's gaze.
In fact, the only living outsider in the hall was Liu Ming; the rest were all death warriors.
The Dragon Throne was not comfortable; it was even harder than stone.
"Pass down the order: the enthronement ceremony will be held in three days."
Yun Fei's voice echoed in the empty hall.
"The name of the Dynasty... shall be 'Great Fei'."
He was too lazy to bother with a name; he had casually blurted out "Da Fei Dynasty" during the rebellion, and now he simply continued to use it.
For simplicity and convenience.
"Your subject obeys."
Liu Ming knelt and kowtowed, his forehead touching the cold floor tiles.
No one saw the fervent light that flashed in his eyes... On the day of the enthronement ceremony, a fine rain drizzled over Chang'an City.
The rain washed away the still-wet bloodstains in the streets and alleys, forming faint red streams that flowed into the gutters.
The common people were forced to stand on both sides of the street, their expressions numb as they watched the new emperor's procession slowly move from Vermilion Bird Street towards the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
There were no cheers, only dead silence.
Yun Fei, dressed in a black Dragon robe and wearing a twelve-stringed imperial crown,
slowly walked the path leading to the Peak of imperial power.
Amidst the shouts of "Long live!" from tens of thousands of death warriors, he completed the enthronement ceremony.
He appointed Liu Ming as Prime Minister; there was no one else left to appoint to other positions.
On the surface, a new Dynasty was being established on the ruins.
But in reality, this was merely a more corrupt regime than the Great Wu Dynasty, because it lacked any true governing power.
Only death warriors, no talented individuals.
Because all usable talents had been killed in this war.