Emperor Sheng Emerges from Seclusion

Capital City of Great Sheng, center of the Imperial City.

A cold, austere air filled the towering Golden Throne Hall.

Emperor Sheng, having just emerged from a brief period of secluded cultivation, sat behind a broad imperial desk of purple sandalwood.

He wore plain attire, his expression composed and unreadable. Only those deep-set eyes carried the majesty of one who had long stood at the pinnacle of power.

Within the hall, an attendant dressed as an inner servant, his aura steady, was bowing as he reported:

"His Majesty, urgent news has arrived from the Eastern Territory. The situation in the rebellion suppression... I fear it does not look optimistic."

"The rebel forces have been exceptionally rampant of late, seizing cities and territory, nearly spreading like a prairie fire. Lord Wei, the commander-in-chief sent by imperial decree a month ago to oversee the pacification, was ambushed by rebel experts three days ago. He suffered grave injuries and is on the verge of death, no longer able to carry out his duties."

The attendant's voice trembled faintly. Doing his best to keep all emotion from his words, he merely stated the facts:

"The Eastern Territory's defensive line has not yet completely collapsed solely because Second Prince has been coordinating matters from the center, while several eminent monks from Great Brahma Palace have repeatedly intervened—rescuing displaced civilians, stabilizing the people's hearts, and assisting the local garrison in fending off the rebels' unceasing assaults."

The hall fell silent, with only wisps of blue smoke curling from the incense burner.

Behind the imperial desk, Emperor Sheng lightly tapped his knuckles against the smooth tabletop, producing faint knocking sounds.

He listened quietly to the end, without any obvious ripple appearing on his face. He merely gave a calm "Mm."

After a brief silence, he slowly spoke.