Chapter 34: This Is a War Between Nations

Ji Huai scanned the gathered ministers, yet not a single one dared to stand out as a target for his wrath. The imperial chronicler, tasked with recording history, gripped his brush, unsure if he should continue writing.

"Father, you are old. It is time to abdicate and yield to a worthier successor." Though Ji Huai’s tone was calm, it did not mask his ravenous hunger for the throne.

"How dare you! Is there not a single soul in this entire court who remains loyal to me?" The Emperor of Wei, Ji Jingshuo, felt a heart-wrenching agony.

"Very well. The coronation and the rites to heaven shall be held today."

Overcome with grief and burdened by his frail, aged body, the Emperor collapsed upon the dragon throne—a convenient opening for Ji Huai to claim the seat and begin issuing commands. Facing soldiers who had marched into the hall with drawn blades, the ministers could only submit.

"His Majesty is the true mandate of Heaven," a sycophantic Censor-in-Chief declared. "The State of Wei requires an enlightened ruler like His Majesty to support the falling pillars and turn the tide of disaster."

Seeing someone champion the Prince of Yan, the other ministers followed suit. One elderly official even wept and kowtowed, offering a desperate remonstrance: "If the Prince of Yan does not ascend the throne today, I shall dash my brains out against these stone pillars to prove my devotion!"

Observing such shamelessness, the other ministers grew bolder. After a show of "three refusals and three yieldings," it was settled: the Prince of Yan was not a usurper, but a savior of the nation.

When news reached the Prince of Tang, Ji Heng, that every city the Prince of Yan passed had surrendered, he could no longer sit still. He gathered the cultivators of his fiefdom and set off immediately for the Wei capital. He rushed as fast as he could, yet he was still a step too late.

Upon arriving at the gates of the capital and seeing the dense encampment of the Prince of Yan’s army, Ji Heng sighed, "A step too late."

"I am the Prince of Tang, Ji Heng. I have come to congratulate my second brother on his accession and offer my support. Soldiers on the ramparts, I ask that you inform my brother of my arrival."

The guards at the gate did not relax their vigilance even upon learning his identity. They greeted him with cold formality, ushering him into the city and dispatching a cultivator to notify the Prince of Yan.

Ji Huai was delighted to hear of his younger brother’s arrival. If he could secure his brother's recognition, the likelihood of gathering the dragon energy during the heavenly sacrifice would be significantly higher. At this moment, seventy percent of the cultivators in the State of Wei were gathered in the capital, waiting for the new emperor to manifest the dragon energy and stabilize the dragon veins, as cultivating upon such veins would yield twice the result with half the effort.

However, Heaven does not always follow human wishes. How could the two neighboring states of Wei remain idle? This was the perfect moment to carve up the nation, and neither country intended to miss the feast.

From the northwest, three flying warships descended toward the capital. Standing on the deck of the largest vessel was Cao Ying, the Emperor of Great Han. From the north, a giant Golden-Winged Roc soared at high speed, carrying a heroic man in black python robes—the Crown Prince of the Song Dynasty, Zhao Jie.

Ji Huai, who had been organizing the ritual, had already ascended the altar to light the fire for the bronze tripod. A piercing cry from the sky shattered the solemnity of the ceremony.

"Why is the Prince of Yan in such a hurry? Why not invite our Great Song to observe the rites? Could it be that you look down upon us?" Crown Prince Zhao Jie stood atop the head of the Golden-Winged Roc, looking down at Ji Huai, who was clad in imperial yellow.

The officials of Wei were incensed. One impulsive minister shouted toward the heavens, "How dare a mere child show such contempt for the new Emperor of Wei! Do you truly believe there are no men left in our kingdom?"

At this outburst, some native Wei cultivators felt a surge of resentment. The resources were already scarce, and with the Song Dynasty muscling in, there would be even less to go around. Where there is conflict of interest, the only arbiter is the strength of one’s fist.

A seventh-realm cultivator unleashed his terrifying aura, sweeping across the space surrounding the Golden-Winged Roc. But before the pressure could descend, Crown Prince Zhao Jie produced a blood-stained bamboo slip and unfurled it. With a thunderous roar of "KILL!" the character inscribed upon the slip flew toward the seventh-realm cultivator, expanding continuously like a venomous serpent that would never abandon its prey.

The Wei cultivator was gripped by terror; he could feel the endless killing intent radiating from the character. If it touched him, he would be dead or crippled. The other Wei cultivators, relieved they had not acted, recognized the weapon in the Crown Prince's hand: it was a Sage’s Bamboo Slip, where every character possessed cataclysmic power.

The seventh-realm cultivator was simply unlucky; the Crown Prince had been looking for a way to demonstrate his power, and he had volunteered himself. The gesture put the Prince in a fine mood.

"Enough." A majestic voice echoed from the void, and an old figure slowly materialized. It was Zhang Cang, the Right Chancellor of Wei. He struck a small bronze bell in his hand, and the resulting sound waves rippled through the air until they collided with the "Kill" character. After a brief clash, the character retreated back onto the Sage’s Slip.

"Since you have come to observe the rites, watch quietly and refrain from petty schemes."

Zhao Jie, standing atop the Roc, wore a grim expression, his eyes fixed on the bronze bell hovering in the Right Chancellor’s hand. Before the tension could simmer for long, another massive fleet of flying warships appeared, bearing the banners of Han.

The ministers and cultivators of Wei turned pale. The arrival of the Song had been trouble enough; now, the Great Han had come as well.

The Left Chancellor, Zhao Yuan, who had been meditating with his eyes closed, opened them to observe the rapidly spiraling situation. He sighed deeply and flashed to the side of the Right Chancellor. Seeing Zhao Yuan, the Right Chancellor asked in a fury, "Zhao Yuan, where is the Imperial Jade Seal? Bring it out for the Prince of Yan at once!"

Zhao Yuan replied with a look of helpless regret, "The Imperial Jade Seal is gone."

"What? What do you mean, 'gone'?" The Right Chancellor’s hands trembled, though he quickly hid them in his sleeves. "What are we to do? Is the State of Wei truly finished?"

As the Han warships docked above the altar, a hearty laugh boomed from the deck. "It is quite lively in Wei today! By the way, where is the Emperor Ji Jingshuo? Is he not here? Is he still alive?"

The cruelty of the words stung, yet no one in Wei dared to tell the Emperor of Han to be silent. Ji Huai, though not yet formally crowned, had already assumed the bearing of a sovereign.

"Emperor of Han, why have you come? If you are here as a guest, I welcome you. But if you intend to disrupt this ceremony, my kingdom will fight you to the death."

"That is correct! I, the Prince of Tang, Ji Heng, am ready to obey my second brother’s command!"

Hearing the Prince of Tang’s support, some ministers wept with relief.

"This is a war for the nation; there is no room for retreat," Ji Huai declared. Bolstered by the support, he suppressed his emotions, maintaining a face that gave nothing away.