Under the silver gaze of the moon, the Emperor walked through the grand courtyard, his silhouette cut sharp against the lantern-lit pillars. His midnight robes flowed like shadows laced with starlight, each step measured, yet imbued with quiet power.
The night wind stirred gently, but did not touch him, as if even the breeze knew to bow. Attendants and guards knelt in stillness, heads lowered, for his presence carried no need for thunder; it was the calm weight of destiny itself.
In the hush of the palace night, he moved like a sovereign carved from the dark, composed, eternal, and utterly unshaken.
The Emperor whose name was Jin Ryuhwan, was on his way into the imperial harem to relieve some stress.
He had been thrust into a mess of epic proportions caused by his late firstborn son, unable to make sense of the situation.
The late crown prince Jin Liangyu, a spoiled brat never taught discipline by anyone since birth, grew up to be a wastrel, always causing trouble wherever he went.
By the age of 10, he was antagonizing the Young Masters and Ladies of prominent families in the Jinlong Dynasty, nearly causing a rebellion after he crippled the heir of the largest martial arts sect in the Dynasty the Dragon's Roar Sect.
At the age of 15, he became the Empire's biggest womanizer, known for his flirtatious and lustful nature, constantly visiting brothels and causing scandals with the daughters of low to mid-level officials.
Although his news of Jin Liangyu's frequent scandals, circulated almost as often betrayals in the world of martial arts, causing Jin Ryuhwan loss of face, the Emperor was unwilling to do anything about it not only was Jin Liangyu his precious son and the heir of the Jinlong Dynasty, he was also a once-in-a-century martial arts prodigy, progressing leaps and bounds every second, ultimately unrivalled in his cohort.
At the tender age of 6, he had unlocked life qi, entering the innate realm, the exclusive martial art of the Jinlong royal family. By 10, he had condensed internal energy and achieved the realm of a master. by 15, he had progressed further, merging his life qi and internal energy, thus attaining the lofty title of Grandmaster.
At 19 years old, the peak of his youth unrivalled in his realm, only matched by the emperor himself, and the sect leaders of the 10 Great sects Alliance, who are of the realm of Great Grandmaster realm, believed to be the peak of martial arts.
He was unstoppable with none strong enough to match him. He should've lived to see the end of the path of martial arts, maybe even unlocking an entirely new realm never before achieved.
That was until he messed with something he shouldn't have.... a cultivator.
Although rarely appearing in the world of mortals, causing their once fearsome reputation to fade into the annals of history, with only the sect masters of the Empire and the Emperor himself having faint knowledge of cultivators in the Empire.
Cultivators did exist, and with the aptitude to transcend mortality and become immortal, they were lofty individuals who should never be provoked at any cost.
However, this foolish son of his had gone and forced himself on the bastard daughter of a cultivator.
After the legendary cultivator caught wind of what had happened, he retaliated in anger in an instant, although in truth, he could barely care about his bastard daughter, the humiliation and loss of face this caused forced his hand.
After confronting Crown Prince Jin Liangyu in an alleyway in one fierce move, before Jin Liangyu could even register what was happening, let alone try to defend himself, he dropped to the ground, perfectly unharmed on the outside but completely unresponsive.
The boundless genius, the perpetual Fist Demon, the Young Dragon of the Jinlong Imperial family. had fallen in one hand seal, not even making physical contact.
It had taken the court's greatest physicians 3 days to realize that he had already died, his soul eviscerated, ripped apart, not even allowing a chance of reincarnation. It was a truly terrifying scene to witness.
After days of agonizing reflection he still couldn't come to a conclusion on one hand, as a father, he was furious, daring to not only harm, but take the life of his child. However, on the other hand, as an Emperor responsible for the peace and prosperity of his Empire, he was up against a cultivator one with the ability to destroy souls, nonetheless.
"Sigh." Such bad luck, who would've known that a seemingly normal commoner was actually the daughter of a mystical cultivator.
I'll cast my thoughts into oblivion for now and make my decision tomorrow. He had wanted to let off some steam, after all, any man faced with such a situation would sooner be haunted by inner demons should one not take any breaks.
He walked with an air of grace and nobility towards the chambers of Consort Mei Lian, originally a commoner's daughter sold to the imperial palace as a maid during a famine, who would have thought a humble wild chrysanthemum such as herself would one day bloom into a radiant peony only rivalling the current empress in terms of looks.
Oh my Empress Zhao Xiyue, if only she were similar to Mie Lian in disposition, a stunning beauty as gentle as jade, and as soft as water. However, unfortunately, "like the rising sun, she does not wait for the moon's permission to shine"
It's to be expected, after all, she is the Young Mistress of the Skyblade Sect. With our union, at least my influence over the realm has soured through the heavens, and with further support from them, i can reclaim the lost lands of my Empire from the claws of the brutish barbarians in the north.....
As he walked, he neared the relatively unadorned chambers of Consort Mie Lian, devoid of the eye-catching golden ornaments, gilded pillars, and jade encrusted door handles of her Empress Zhao Xiyue.
The difference in their living spaces were night and day. The Empress's chambers were grand and opulent, filled with rich tapestries, golden furniture, and fragrant perfumes.
Every corner radiated power, her dominance reflected in the luxurious adornments, from gilded mirrors to precious vases. It was a space that commanded attention, built to impress and dominate.
In stark contrast, the consort's quarters were simple and serene. Soft colors, modest furnishings, and the scent of fresh flowers created a calm, peaceful atmosphere. There were no lavish displays, just a quiet, comfortable space that reflected her contentment with simplicity and inner peace.
The Emperor entered the consort's room, the faint scent of jasmine and flowers in the air, only to be hit by an overwhelming stench sharp, metallic, and unmistakably that of blood.
His heart skipped a beat as his eyes scanned the dimly lit room, the once serene space now darkened with violence. There, in the center, a figure stood cloaked in shadow a deadly assassin, the glint of a blade catching the flickering light.
Before he could speak, the Emperor's voice was swallowed by the silence, his words caught in his throat. He tried to ask questions, his mind racing to understand the scene before him, but his breath barely left his lips before the assassin struck.
The blade, swift and merciless, found its mark. A flash of steel, and in an instant, the Emperor's head tumbled from his shoulders, his body crumpling to the floor in a silent, final fall. The room returned to stillness, the only sound the soft rustling of blood as it pooled beneath the Emperor's fallen form
"You shouldn't have been foolish enough to cross my master," the assassin hissed, his voice cold as steel. as quickly as he came, he had disappeared into the shadow of night, gone without a trace.
A few minutes later, a servant had entered the room, shaken to the core, unwilling to believe the sight, she had fallen to the ground in fright. "The Emperor and Imperial Consort have been killed!!!!!"
The news spread like wildfire. The imperial court was confused as political factions moved in the shadows. The common people panicked that such a mighty figure had been killed in his own home.
Amid the turmoil, a soul from another world awakens in the body of the emperor's second son, a young prince known more for his weakness than his wisdom. But when he opens his eyes, something has changed.
This is not the same man who once cowered in the shadows of the palace halls. The scent of blood still clung to the Royal Consort's chambers.
Moonlight spilled through shattered windows, casting a silver light across the cold marble floor, and the lifeless bodies of the Emperor and the Consort that lay upon it.
Servants wept behind locked doors, eunuchs whispered behind trembling hands, and ministers scrambled like rats in the dark.
But in the chambers of the young prince, a young man stirred, his breath sharp, unfamiliar. Eyes once dull now gleamed with clarity. "Where… am I?" he muttered, clutching his chest.
The memories came in a flood, both his own and another's. The cowardly prince was gone. A new emperor had risen.