The Emperor had assumed that even if some nameless danger were to arise, it would at most take the form of assassins.

He had not imagined that the Tianming Army would choose the very moment of the Empress’s labor to launch a rebellion — and with plans laid so meticulously, the division of duties so clearly defined.

Shortly after the Tianming Army appeared within the Shiyuan Palace grounds, urgent military dispatches arrived from outside — the Tianming Army’s various battalions had begun to mutiny one after another, taking the offensive against other imperial troops. But they struck only at the court’s own forces, launching no attack against the Liangzhou Army or the Yuezhou Army.

Once the fighting broke out, the Liangzhou Army did act — mobilizing troops to engage the Tianming Army. But the Yuezhou Army made not a single move.

The Emperor received the report and felt his heart sink.

The commanders of the Yuezhou Army had only recently been eliminated by Prince Wu. Their soldiers surely still carried resentment in their hearts. Though the men sent in as replacements were all loyal to the court, in such a short time it would be impossible to command their obedience. In all likelihood, those officers sent to take charge of the Yuezhou Army had already been killed.

By now it was also possible to piece together what had happened: the Tianming Army had conspired in secret, choosing this moment — after Prince Wu had departed with the Left Martial Guard and the court’s finest soldiers — to seize the Shiyuan Palace and avenge their lord, Yang Xuanji, the Tianming King.

Of course, the Emperor understood clearly that the so-called vengeance was merely a pretext.

The Yuezhou Army had not moved — they were watching the tigers fight from the hillside.

The Liangzhou Army had moved — but they would likely accomplish little in the short term.

“Where is Zhang He?!”

The Emperor demanded.

The head steward, Zhen Xiaodao, answered, “General Zhang is conducting rounds with his troops. He is likely engaged with the rebel forces by now.”

The Emperor turned to the commander of the Inner Palace Guard, Hui Chunqiu: “Assemble every Inner Palace Guard and bring them here at once — the Empress must be protected at all costs. Send word to the other Imperial Guard generals as well: concentrate all available troops around the sleeping chambers. No errors.”

Hui Chunqiu acknowledged the order and went personally to relay it.

At that same moment, on the Liangzhou Army’s side, General Jiang Qihai personally led his troops in a charge through the streets — the moment they spotted any Tianming Army unit, they threw themselves at it.

“This is no way to fight,” Jiang Qihai said.

He looked to one of his officers, a man named Dou Yong. “You take the cavalry and purge the rebels throughout the city. I’ll take men to the Shiyuan Palace and protect the Emperor.”

Dou Yong warned him, “Right now, the Emperor won’t trust anyone. If you bring troops to the Shiyuan Palace, you’ll likely be mistaken for rebels — you won’t even be able to explain yourself.”

He pressed urgently, “If we eliminate the rebels outside the palace, the Emperor will have nothing to fault us for later. That’s the safer course. After all, it’s not as if we’re doing nothing.”

Jiang Qihai said, “I’ve earned Prince Wu’s deepest trust. If I fail to give everything I have right now, and Prince Wu returns to learn what happened — you and I will both be pushed out. No matter how great the world becomes, there’ll be no place in it for us.”

Dou Yong was taken aback.

He thought on it — and yes, that was indeed the truth of the matter.

So Dou Yong had no choice but to agree. He took his forces to engage the Tianming Army throughout the city, while Jiang Qihai took men to the palace to rescue the Emperor.

Inside the Shiyuan Palace, Huchi’er was at the vanguard — and had already cut his way to the outer perimeter of the Empress’s sleeping chambers.

Though the Imperial Guard kept streaming in as reinforcements, none could stop this savage figure.

The palace passages ran in every direction, and the rebel forces that had poured inside were simply too many. The Imperial Guard retreated step by step, passage by passage, until now all their remaining strength was concentrated outside the sleeping chambers.

At that moment, Imperial Guard General Commander Zhang He broke back in from outside the palace. Along his route he had been set upon by three separate groups of rebels. By the time he fought his way to the Shiyuan Palace, of the twelve hundred Imperial Guards he had started with, fewer than two hundred remained.

Seeing the tremendous ferocity of one particular fighter among the enemy ranks, Zhang He gave no thought to his exhaustion — he snatched up his iron spear and confronted the man directly.

Huchi’er was no longer wearing that heavy suit of golden armor — there was nothing in the Tianming Army that would fit him in any case. So now he wore no protective gear at all.

But when he had fought his way to the outer perimeter of the Empress’s chambers, he had torn two massive wooden doors from their frames and was wielding them as weapons — so that within a full zhang radius, no one could get near him.

The door panels of the palace were thick and heavy, studded on the outside with enormous copper rivets. Even arrows could not penetrate them. With those two door panels as weapons, he moved through the defenders as though they were not there.

Zhang He burst out from among the Imperial Guards and lunged through the air, driving a spear thrust at Huchi’er.

Huchi’er saw that this man’s movements were swift and his technique fierce, and for once did not lower his guard — though in his eyes, all opponents were more or less equal.

He raised one door panel to block — but that spear was viciously powerful, and after piercing through the door panel it showed not the slightest sign of slowing, still aimed straight at Huchi’er’s throat.

Huchi’er flung the door panel to the side in a sweeping motion.

Zhang He’s spear was caught inside the panel — when the panel was flung, Zhang He was carried with it.

He wrenched his spear free with all his strength. Before he could mount a second attack, the door panel in Huchi’er’s other hand was already swinging toward him.

The panel was too large and its speed too strange — Zhang He knew he could not dodge. Rather than try, he leapt into the air, turned his body sideways, and used both feet to kick off the door panel.

Using that momentum, he completed a somersault in mid-air, and from that height drove his spear at Huchi’er’s eye.

Something lit up in Huchi’er’s eyes. It had been a long time since he had encountered an opponent worth anything at all. The killing intent in his heart rose sharply.

Seeing the spear coming, Huchi’er spread his arms wide and then slammed them violently together — the two door panels in his hands clashing shut like a pair of enormous cymbals.

Zhang He gritted his teeth and did not change his approach — he pressed straight through.

A thunderous bang — the two door panels caught Zhang He and slammed him between them like the halves of a clam shell.

But that spear thrust broke through just before the panels shut, and in the firelight, a flash of silver streaked forward.

Huchi’er’s expression changed drastically — he threw himself backward in an instant.

The iron spear arrived as he arched back. The tip carved a bloody line across Huchi’er’s forehead.

If Huchi’er’s reaction had been half a count slower — in this desperate, all-or-nothing exchange — he could very well have killed Zhang He, and Zhang He could very well have driven that spear straight through his skull.

He had barely avoided the blow, and now Huchi’er erupted in fury — a howl tore out of him as he swelled up like a bear.

He released the two door panels. Zhang He dropped from the air and landed heavily, immediately coughing blood.

Huchi’er drove both door panels downward in a vertical slam. In the split second before impact, Zhang He threw himself into a desperate roll.

The panels crashed into the ground with devastating force — the wood shattered on impact, leaving only half of one panel in his hands.

Zhang He seized the moment to get up. Amid the flying splinters, he drove his spear forward — and it struck home, punching straight through Huchi’er’s shoulder.

The iron spear was sharp enough to pierce clean through.

The pain only made Huchi’er more furious. He grabbed the spear shaft and yanked it out — then swung it with such force that spear and man together went spinning through the air.

Zhang He’s body slammed into the wall with a crash, and another mouthful of blood spewed out.

When he hit the ground his head was spinning, his vision already going dark.

Huchi’er had no intention of giving him any chance to rise again — he stepped forward and brought his foot stamping down toward Zhang He’s throat.

That foot looked larger than the blue stone bricks used to build city walls. If it came down on Zhang He’s throat, his neck would likely be mashed flat.

But Zhang He had no strength left to dodge. His spear technique was formidable enough, his moves fierce enough — faced with any other opponent, he would have killed them long ago.

But this enemy had unnatural resistance to injury and boundless raw power. Even with the same wounds on him, the enemy could still fight — while Zhang He no longer could.

In that razor-thin instant, a dark shadow swept in — a left hand grabbed Zhang He’s ankle and yanked him backward, while a right hand sent a long sword erupting into a blaze of cold radiance.

Like more than a dozen beautiful flowers of lightning blooming before Huchi’er’s eyes — in the night air, they were breathtaking.

The commander of the Inner Palace Guard, Hui Chunqiu, had arrived.

After pulling Zhang He to safety, the long sword in his hand became flowing light.

Each sword stroke faster than the last.

Huchi’er’s movements seemed clumsy and sluggish by comparison — Hui Chunqiu’s swordsmanship was, after all, known for being light, agile, and free-flowing.

But Huchi’er simply raised both arms to shield his vital points. Those dozen-odd sword strikes left his forearms covered in cuts — yet not one had struck a killing blow.

Both of Huchi’er’s arms were slick with blood, and his eyes had gone completely red. He had been pushed well beyond the limits of his patience.

After more than a dozen strikes without killing his opponent, Hui Chunqiu felt a twinge of genuine fear rising in his chest.

He launched himself into the air and delivered a rapid double kick off Huchi’er’s body. Huchi’er stood utterly unmoved.

As Hui Chunqiu used the impact to push off and disengage, Huchi’er suddenly caught him by the ankle.

In that instant, Hui Chunqiu’s eyes snapped wide.

Huchi’er’s eyes blazed with fury. With a roar, he swung Hui Chunqiu in a wide arc.

Hui Chunqiu’s abilities were, by his own reckoning, slightly below the level of seventh in the world — he was in no way a match for Huchi’er.

Grabbed by the ankle, he had no way to break free. All he could hear was a rush of wind past his ears — and in the next moment his body smashed into the wall.

One impact, and Hui Chunqiu’s head was already ringing, his consciousness nearly gone.

Huchi’er swung him up again and slammed him violently into the ground. With a sickening crash, Hui Chunqiu hit the stone, the back of his skull split open in a bloody gash — and he fell unconscious.

Even that was not enough for Huchi’er. He stepped forward and placed a foot across Hui Chunqiu’s throat, then grabbed the man’s ankle with both hands and pulled with full force.

In the next instant — a mist of blood.

The commander of the Inner Palace Guard — loyal and devoted through years of service to the Emperor, who had endured countless storms and blocked countless assassination attempts — was torn apart alive.

Huchi’er discarded the body and looked ahead. The man with the spear had been carried back behind the lines, and that irritated him further.

He crouched and picked up both halves of the broken door panels, holding them before him as a shield. A volley of arrows came flying, clattering against the wood.

He put both panels up in front of him and charged forward. The Tianming Army men rushed in behind him.

A tremendous crash — the doors of the sleeping chambers were battered open by Huchi’er. The door bars had not held for even a breath before snapping clean through.

Many of the Imperial Guards posted at the entrance were knocked off their feet, and before they could rise, the rebels behind cut them down one by one.

The rebel troops pushed into the sleeping chambers, and the archers already formed in ranks inside let loose a massed volley — at the entrance, rebel soldiers died in layers, their bodies almost blocking the doorway.

Huchi’er glanced to the side. He spotted the door panels he had knocked in earlier lying on the ground, and flung the two broken halves he was carrying outward.

Those broken door panels crashed into the archers’ formation and knocked more than a dozen of them sprawling at once.

In that same instant, several arrows found their mark in Huchi’er’s body — but against his immense frame, they seemed to have little effect.

On another man, arrows jutting from his body might have looked gruesome. On him, they were like slender bamboo slivers stuck into a normal person.

But that was not to say Huchi’er felt no pain.

In his pain, Huchi’er picked up the door panel from the ground, held it before him as a shield, and with a roar charged forward once more.

Like a maddened bull he plowed straight into the formation of archers assembled in the courtyard, sending their ranks scattering in every direction.

Using that opening, a considerable number of Tianming Army soldiers also pushed inside.

In that moment, a storm of concealed weapons flew from every direction — the Tianming Army soldiers who had entered fell in waves.

The Inner Palace Guards came sweeping in from all sides, moving like great eagles banking from the heights.

And at that moment, the Emperor, Yang Jing, stood in the doorway of the main hall with a saber in his hand — and no matter who urged him to fall back, he would not move.

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