Plans

"The Star Origin Federation does not need vassals; it needs allies. Vassals require them to spend resources managing them, while allies can develop resources alongside them and share the burden."

Zhou Chen asked no more. He lowered his eyes, as though making his final struggle and weighing his options within his heart.

At last, he raised his head again. Though his gaze remained complicated, there was now a sovereign's resolve in its depths.

"Imperial Father..."

"His Majesty will understand." Li Xuangang's voice carried conviction and responsibility. "This old servant will personally report to His Majesty."

Zhou Chen nodded and said nothing further.

He looked once more at the broken sword, Startled Swan, resting on his knees. His fingers gently brushed over its cold fracture and that fatal crack, his gaze finally settling into a strange calm.

Defeated by this sword, and begun with this sword as well.

The candles in the tent crackled softly, and the light gradually dimmed.

Prime Minister Song Wenyuan silently rose. His movements were somewhat slow as he pulled out a charred wick and replaced it with a fresh candle.

The firelight began to dance anew, stretching the figures in the tent taller and casting the heaviness on every face into sharp relief, along with their new thoughts.

Li Xuangang leaned against the back of his chair and slowly closed his eyes. His wrinkled face was carved with the weariness and hardships of time.

Eighty-seven years... He had witnessed Great Liang at its height, and he had weathered countless storms.

He had once believed that a Martial Saint was the pinnacle of martial arts, the backbone of Great Liang.

*Until today—until that sword intent hanging in the void and piercing heaven and earth, until that young man who, at twenty-three, already stood before the threshold of