The Geiger counter in Jiang Chen's hand clicked rhythmically, a slow, steady pulse that matched the beating of his heart. He stood on the edge of the glass crater, five miles north of the city. The snow here had vanished. In its place was a perfect, vitrified bowl of obsidian-like glass, stretching half a mile wide.
The Earth Shaker Golem sat in the center of the crater, cooling. Its celestial steel armor was no longer black; it was bleached a ghostly white by the neutron flux. Drones hovered around it, spraying decontamination foam that hissed as it touched the radioactive hull.
"The radiation levels are dropping," Chen Wei reported, his voice muffled by a heavy lead-lined suit. "But the local Qi... it has changed. The surviving spirit beasts in the area aren't dying. They are mutating. We found a rabbit with three eyes and a coat that absorbs light."
"Nature adapts," Jiang Chen said, turning away from the devastation. "We will study it later. Right now, we have guests."
He looked toward the southern horizon. A beam of golden light was piercing the grey smog of Beiluo's industrial sector. It wasn't a weapon; it was a road. A shimmering, holographic path paved with golden runes extended from the sky, landing directly at the city gates.
Descending this path was a carriage drawn by six Qilin—mythical beasts with scales of jade and hooves of fire. The carriage itself was draped in the Imperial Yellow silk, emblazoned with the five-clawed dragon.
"The Golden Edict," Chen Wei whispered, instinctively lowering his head. "The Emperor himself has sent a messenger."
Jiang Chen didn't lower his head. He adjusted the collar of his coat.
"I am a Prince of the blood," Jiang Chen said coldly. "Even if I am exiled, they cannot enter my city without my permission. Lower the gate. Let them see what we have built."
The Imperial Messenger was a eunuch named Eunuch Li, a cultivator of the Core Formation stage. He stepped out of the Qilin carriage, holding a scroll made of dragon skin. He expected to see a warlord cowering in the mud.
Instead, he found himself standing on asphalt, surrounded by towering steel factories that churned out white smoke. The air smelled of diesel and ozone. The guards at the gate didn't hold spears; they held matte-black rifles and wore full-face ballistic helmets.
Eunuch Li wrinkled his nose. "What is this stench? It smells of dead earth."
He unfurled the scroll, infusing it with his Qi. His voice was amplified, booming across the city.
"By the Will of the Heavens, the Celestial Emperor commands! The 9th Prince, Jiang Chen, is summoned to the Eternal Capital. You are to account for the disturbance of the Natural Order and the unauthorized use of 'Sun Fire'. Your presence is mandatory. Your safety is guaranteed by the Imperial Ancestor."
The eunuch looked down at Jiang Chen, who stood casually by a jeep.
"Ninth Prince," the eunuch sneered slightly. "You have caused quite a stir. The Emperor is... curious. He wishes to see if his wayward son has truly fallen to the demonic path."
Jiang Chen took the scroll. He didn't kneel to receive it. He handed it to Old Wu.
"Tell my Father I accept," Jiang Chen said. "But the road to the Capital is dangerous these days. Bandits. Beasts. Fallout."
He signaled to the heavy garage doors behind him.
"I will be bringing my own security detail."
"That is unnecessary," Eunuch Li scoffed. "The Imperial Guards will protect you. Unless you trust your rusty toys more than the Emperor's elite?"
"I do," Jiang Chen said.
The garage doors opened.
RUMBLE.
A deep, guttural roar shook the ground, vibrating the Qilin's hooves. The mythical beasts panicked, rearing back.
Out of the darkness rolled a beast of steel. It had no legs. It moved on continuous metal tracks that crushed the pavement. Its sloping armor was thick enough to stop a flying sword. Its turret rotated with a mechanical whine, leveling a 100mm rifled cannon directly at the eunuch.
The Type-59 Main Battle Tank.
Behind it, nine more followed. A column of forty tons of rolling superiority.
"What... what is that?" Eunuch Li took a step back, his arrogance evaporating as he felt the sheer mass of the machine. It had no soul, but it felt heavier than a mountain.
"That is a Diplomatic Vehicle," Jiang Chen said, climbing onto the lead tank. He patted the barrel of the cannon. "We call it the 'Peacemaker'. Lead the way, Eunuch. Don't let your Qilin get tired. We move fast."
The journey to the Capital usually took weeks by horse. The Qilin carriage could do it in three days.
Jiang Chen's armored column did it in two.
They tore up the Imperial Highways. The tank treads chewed the ancient stone roads, leaving a trail of broken rock and diesel fumes. When they passed through villages, peasants ran out, thinking a dragon was passing, only to see the line of metal monsters rumbling past at 40 kilometers per hour.
When they reached the Eternal Capital, the gates were closed.
The Capital was a city of five million, surrounded by walls three hundred feet high, inscribed with the Grand Defense Array. It was the heart of the cultivation world.
The City Guard Commander looked down from the walls at the column of tanks parked outside.
"Halt!" the Commander shouted, his voice fortified by Qi. "No weapons of war are allowed within the Eternal City! Dismount and enter on foot!"
Inside the lead tank, Jiang Chen pressed the radio switch.
"This is Prince Jiang Chen. I was invited. And I don't walk."
"The law is absolute!" the Commander retorted. "Leave the iron tortoises outside!"
Jiang Chen looked at the massive wooden gates. They were reinforced with spirit iron, capable of withstanding a battering ram.
"Han," Jiang Chen said to his driver. "Unlock the Breach Protocol."
"Sir? We are going to shoot the Capital gate?"
"No," Jiang Chen smiled. "We are going to knock."
"All units," Jiang Chen ordered. "Full throttle. Wedge formation."
The ten tanks revved their engines. Black smoke poured into the sky.
CLANK-CLANK-CLANK.
They accelerated. The ground shook.
The guards on the wall watched in horror. "They aren't stopping! Activate the Barrier!"
A blue shimmer appeared over the gate.
The lead tank hit the gate at full speed.
CRASH.
The Type-59 weighed 36 tons. The momentum was unstoppable. The wooden gate splintered. The spirit barrier flashed and popped under the sheer kinetic impact.
The tanks smashed through the wood and iron, rolling into the main thoroughfare of the Capital.
The citizens of the Capital—nobles, cultivators, and merchants—froze. They saw the gate explode inward. Through the dust, the green monsters emerged, their turrets swiveling left and right.
Jiang Chen popped the hatch of the lead tank. He stood tall, wearing his grey coat and sunglasses, looking like a warlord from the future invading the past.
"Keep driving," Jiang Chen ordered. "To the Palace."
The Imperial Throne Room was silent. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and the pressure of a hundred powerful cultivators.
Ministers lined the sides. Generals in golden armor stood guard. And on the Dragon Throne sat Emperor Xia.
He did not look old. He looked timeless. His cultivation was a mystery, rumored to be at the Spirit Severing Stage—one step away from true immortality.
The doors to the throne room groaned open.
Jiang Chen walked in alone. He left the tanks in the courtyard, their cannons aimed at the palace windows.
He walked down the long carpet. He felt the pressure. The Emperor was releasing a subtle aura, a test. It felt like walking through deep water.
Jiang Chen didn't use Qi to resist. He used the Micro-Servos in his boots and the Spinal Brace under his coat to keep him upright. He walked with a mechanical, rhythmic gait.
He stopped at the foot of the throne.
He didn't kneel.
"Father," Jiang Chen said, nodding his head slightly.
"Ninth Son," the Emperor spoke. The voice didn't come from his mouth; it came from the air itself. "You have grown... loud."
"I found that silence was indistinguishable from death," Jiang Chen replied.
"You destroyed the Black Iron Pass," the Emperor stated. "You humiliated the Holy Land. You erased a Ghost King with a light that rivals the sun. The Ministers say you are a demon."
The Emperor leaned forward.
"Are you a demon, Jiang Chen?"
"I am an engineer, Your Majesty."
"Engineer," the Emperor tasted the word. "Is that what you call the art of killing without honor?"
"Honor is a set of rules written by the strong to control the weak," Jiang Chen said, his voice echoing in the hall. "I rewrote the rules."
He reached into his pocket. The Imperial Guards tensed, hands on their swords.
Jiang Chen pulled out a small lead box. He opened it.
Inside sat a jagged shard of Vitrified Glass from the crater. It pulsed with a faint, sickly green light—residual radiation.
"This is the soil of the North," Jiang Chen said, placing the box on the step of the throne. "I burned the Ghost King. I saved your Empire from a plague that would have consumed it. I did it not with prayers, and not with swords."
He looked the Emperor in the eye.
"I did it with the fundamental power of the universe. And I offer it to the Empire."
The court murmured. An offering?
"You wish to submit?" a Minister asked, hopeful.
"No," Jiang Chen smiled. "I wish to trade."
"Trade?" The Emperor raised an eyebrow.
"I will secure the Northern Border. I will provide the Empire with weapons that make your archers look like children. I will pave your roads and light your cities."
"In exchange for what?"
"Autonomy," Jiang Chen said. "Beiluo City becomes a Special Administrative Zone. No taxes. No Imperial laws. And total sovereignty over the Northern Wastes."
The court erupted. "Treason! Madness!"
The Emperor raised a hand. Silence fell instantly.
He looked at the piece of radioactive glass. He felt the energy inside it. It was chaotic, destructive, and immensely powerful.
"And if I refuse?" the Emperor asked softly.
Jiang Chen tapped his earpiece.
"Then I hope the Palace has good insurance. My tanks are parked in the courtyard. And the V-2 Rocket in Beiluo is currently targeting these coordinates."
It was a bluff. The V-2 wasn't ready for another shot yet. But the Emperor didn't know that.
The Emperor stared at his son. For the first time in centuries, he felt a genuine threat. Not from a rival cultivator, but from his own flesh and blood who had rejected the Dao for steel.
"You have your Autonomy," the Emperor decided. "But know this, Jiang Chen. The Holy Lands will not be as pragmatic as I am. You have shown the world a new god. And the old gods are jealous."