The Imperial Phoenix Palace loomed like a slumbering beast in the heart of the capital, its obsidian pillars veined with molten-gold patterns that pulsed faintly, as though alive. The entire structure radiated an ancient, oppressive power—the inheritance of countless generations of Phoenix Emperors.
Liu Shen strode through the grand hallway, Yu Meixing and Lei Qing close behind. Each step he took echoed like a war drum, and the court attendants lining the walls averted their gazes, their breathing shallow.
At the far end, Empress Zhao Ying waited upon the Flame-Glass Throne. Draped in crimson phoenix silk, her eyes glowed with a faint ember light. The moment Liu Shen's gaze met hers, the air between them grew heavy, a silent clash of will and authority.
"You've crossed the Vermillion Gates uninvited," Zhao Ying said, her voice like the hiss of fire on oil. "You know the punishment for such insolence?"
Liu Shen smiled faintly. "You summoned me."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but it vanished almost instantly. She raised her hand, and the massive doors sealed behind them with a dull boom. The attendants withdrew, leaving only the four of them in the cavernous throne hall.
The Empress rose from her throne and descended the steps, each movement calculated—graceful, yet dangerous.
"You carry the aura of the Abyss," she murmured, circling him like a predator assessing prey. "The Nine Generals have risen once more… and the heavens tremble at the whisper of your name."
Her words drew a cold glint in Liu Shen's eyes. "Flattery? Or fear?"
"Neither," Zhao Ying said, stopping before him. "An alliance."
Yu Meixing's gaze sharpened. Lei Qing subtly shifted his stance, ready for violence at a breath's notice.
The Empress continued, "The Empire of the Phoenix burns under the shadow of the Heaven's Pact. My throne is watched, my movements monitored. They will not move openly yet… but when they do, I will be dethroned—or slain. You wish to strike at the heavens. I wish to survive them. Our goals align."
Liu Shen regarded her silently, his eyes boring into hers. "And in exchange for this 'alliance'?"
"The Phoenix Blood Oath," Zhao Ying said, raising her hand. A drop of blood, molten gold in color, floated from her fingertip and ignited into a blazing seal that hung in the air. "Once sworn, our fates intertwine. Betrayal will burn us both to ash."
Yu Meixing stepped forward. "A Blood Oath with a ruler bound to the Heaven's Pact? Dangerous."
Zhao Ying smirked. "More dangerous for me than him. I know what the heavens whisper about the Demon Sovereign's return. If I turn against him, the flames of the Oath will consume me before the heavens can."
Liu Shen's lips curved in a slow, calculating smile. "Then let us bind the flames."
Without hesitation, he pricked his finger. Black-gold blood welled forth, radiating a demonic chill that clashed violently with the Empress's golden flame. When the two drops met in the air, the hall shook. The golden fire and abyssal darkness merged, twisting into a swirling sigil that burned above them, before searing itself into the skin over their hearts.
A voice—not of man or woman, but of the ancient oath itself—whispered in their minds:
Bound by blood, bound by fate. Betray, and be devoured.
When the light faded, the Empress exhaled slowly. "The Phoenix Empire will open its hidden wings for you, Liu Shen. But know this—within three days, the Heaven's Envoys will arrive for the Phoenix Coronation. If they suspect your presence…"
"They won't," Liu Shen interrupted, his tone edged with quiet confidence. "By then, the palace will already belong to me in all but name."
Her eyes narrowed. "And how will you do that?"
He leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper but heavy with certainty. "By burning what you cannot—without even lighting a flame."
The Empress's heart skipped a beat, and for the first time, she realized why the heavens truly feared him.