When loyalty is imposed, does it remain loyalty?

The sound spread through the forest, passing between soldiers and generals like a flexible flash, winding around them and enveloping some. Although it was not directed at them, the cold sensation creeping down the soldiers' spines did not fade.

That feeling of standing on the edge between life and death. Their heartbeats quickened relentlessly. Once again, images of that tyrannical prince and his overwhelming presence resurfaced in their minds.

Finally, they recalled whom they were serving. It was not a pleasant memory, but one filled with tension and the looming specter of death. This unpredictable individual could take their lives without the slightest hesitation at any moment.

It didn't take long before their breaths grew heavy and labored, escaping their nostrils like flames, only to freeze under their prince's frost. This was nothing new to them—on the contrary, it was incredibly common.

As common as the countless soldiers who had fallen beneath him—not due to battles or crimes, but because of one simple thing. They all knew an unspoken rule. It formed in their minds automatically:

"Whoever makes a sound, falters, delays, or displeases the prince under any circumstance… will never know how they lost their head!"

The carriage, or rather, what was inside it, was like a towering mountain. Millions had attempted to cross it, but how many had survived? None. Its collapsing rocks had crushed them all,

as if they were worthless ants! Now, this towering mountain commanded, in a voice that carried the weight of existence itself. It ordered all beneath it—with its dread, its might—to submit!

With a deathly silence and an icy chill, the prince's voice tore through space itself, piercing existence as if forcing it to acknowledge its own helplessness before him.

In the end, even existence itself had no choice but to echo his voice throughout the entire forest. The trees and their leaves trembled violently in terror! Even the tiniest of insects quivered.

"Kneel."

Nature itself submitted. There was no resisting this voice. Submission was the only path to survival beneath it.

The soldiers froze for fractions of a second, not daring to move. Despite the terrifying situation, not all of them shared the same reaction.

"Sito Wan, it's time for you to repay my favor!" one of them thought.

A general immediately felt his own energy turning against him! It surged out of his control. "What is happening?!!" the general thought in horror.

Every fiber of his body trembled, torn between his master's will and the force of his rebelling energy. Only a few seconds passed. The general, using the last remnants of his control, attempted to reclaim dominion over his body. But in the moment he was supposed to move—his body froze.

He finally realized the truth. It wasn't he who was attacking. He was the one being attacked!

The energy he had relied on his entire life had betrayed him, stabbing him in the back as if in treacherous defiance. He could not comprehend how this had happened, but that no longer mattered.

His body was now beyond his control, as though he were merely a spectator, seeing through it but unable to act. He could neither move nor call for help, nor even show that something was wrong.

His rebellious aura surged outward, desperately attempting to resist the prince. It stood against him, rising fiercely! But it didn't last long. In the blink of an eye, an invisible hand, armed with razor-sharp claws, emerged.

The general's body shrank instantly. Not because he had submitted at the last moment—but because his body had failed to respond.

In the end, he vomited all his blood. Or rather, it simply spilled out of him, as if it had submitted in humiliation on his behalf, proving its loyalty instead.

Neither the soldiers nor the generals, nor even the most insignificant creatures, hesitated in that moment. The moment when time's river was severed. When the fabric of space froze. When the air fell still.

The moment their hearts pounded like war drums, yearning to escape their chests. The moment a horrifying shiver ran from their heads to the soles of their feet. The moment their eyes widened as if craving annihilation, desperate not to witness the terror before them.

It was a dreadful sight—all creatures prostrating, encircling the carriage. Where the one who, no matter what he did to them—punishment or reward—they still thanked him. Regardless of life or death, of frost or flame.

All auras submitted and were suppressed. Only one remained dominant. the aura of that prince! All souls aligned beneath him. No more lies, no more truth. The only absolute was Ji Hai!

Ji Hai did not limit his dominion to humans alone; even nature and beasts could not escape his tyranny. When the withering grass attempted to resist, it was crushed, as if it had never existed. When the towering trees, standing for decades, dared to challenge his authority, they immediately swayed in humiliation the moment his aura neared them.

Their roots cried in agony. They fell. And they kept falling until they were lower than his feet. When the wild boars finally realized what was happening, they didn't even get the chance to be afraid.

In an instant, nothing remained of them but fragile bones and blood soaking the earth—a lesson carved into the land itself, declaring that this person… was not to be trifled with!

But amidst this heavy air, where the river of time had frozen and was tainted with dark blood, there was one who remained untouched—shielded in a space slightly apart from the others, within an aura that lessened the oppressive force.

The prince was not the only one lost in thought; Zhang Yu was thinking as well. He observed, analyzed. His gaze never strayed from that carriage, as if entranced by its beauty—or perhaps by the one inside. Questions and thoughts stirred, ripening in his young mind.

This scene was beyond description for him. Deep within, where his soul resided, a sensation coiled around it, seeping in slowly—like a serpent wrapping around its prey before sinking its venomous fangs into it.

Zhang Yu did not understand the source of this feeling, but the growing sense of envy—or perhaps emptiness—continued to spread within him. The color of his hand darkened slightly, fingers curling into a loose fist.

"Look at him. Everyone reveres and worships him. But what about me? Will people ever stop looking down on me? When will they truly see me as human? Is it when I… become something? Something… but what could it be?"

The serpent had injected its venom, and it began working slowly within Zhang Yu. At first, he didn't notice it, but it slipped into him like a warm breeze. His fist tightened audibly. "Power… huh."

It was not simple jealousy, but something far deeper. Something much darker—something he had yet to recognize, but which had now taken root in his heart. It crept slowly through his veins, slithering with malice, searching every corner of his body… preparing to seize control.

But was Zhang Yu's thinking correct? Did one need something to instill fear in others? Or was loyalty something to be earned rather than imposed? These were questions he might one day find answers to—or perhaps they would remain an eternal riddle lodged in his chest.

Yet, as these thoughts swirled within him, neither Zhang Yu nor anyone else present realized that the carriage had begun to fill with something. It did not wane, but rather intensified.

"These formalities… do you think I don't recognize them? I spent years doing the same for my father, and now you—ignorant as you are—think you can try them on me?"

The prince's thoughts halted momentarily. A quiet chuckle escaped him. Though brief, it caused the entire aura of the carriage to shift.

"A good idea. Since your loyalty is so great, endure what comes next!"

As the prince moved within the carriage, those outside heard the creaking of the wooden structure. The animals panicked, scattering in chaotic terror. They had no idea how to escape, but they knew—anything that emanated from that carriage was a death sentence.

As for the remaining trees, they lamented their inability to move. Their leaves withered, surrendering completely. They knew nothing could restrain this man. The air itself quivered. If given a choice between existence and annihilation, it would have undoubtedly chosen the latter.

Meanwhile, the soldiers' breathing grew heavier, carving marks into the dirt beneath them. The generals stood firm—like iron statues, unmoved by any aura or raging storm. Inside, they harbored nothing but absolute loyalty, their only concern being to prove it to their prince.

But not all had surrendered. Not everyone was trying to demonstrate their devotion to the one they served. Amidst this atmosphere of submission and subjugation, there was a certain general, positioned on the left side of the procession, whose thoughts were occupied with something entirely different. A general who had not ceased his attempts—nor would he.

He was healing his injuries; half of them had already vanished.

"Ji Hai, oh Ji Hai… I watched you grow before my very eyes, and now you wish to reassert your status? Fine, I'll play along. But don't be upset later when my plans come to fruition, alright?" thought Fang Bai.

Gathering his aura within his mind, he spoke with it—internally. When he finished, it shot out in an instant, reaching another general. One not too close, yet not too far.

The aura entered the general's mind, displaying a message from Fang Bai before he could even react.

"Tian Luo… How many times have you knelt before the prince, begging, just to be granted a chance to meet the imperial doctor? And how many times has he promised you, only to turn his back on you?"

"You know, sometimes the prince doesn't even need to kill you himself. He just makes you wait. And wait. Until you become useless. Then he discards you, like a corpse thrown from a cliff. How many generals have met that fate before you? You know their names, don't you?"

"But I am different from the prince. I do not forget those who serve me. I do not see my subordinates as mere tools to be used and discarded. I seek allies, and I swear—if you assist me in my endeavor, I will grant you a chance to meet the imperial doctor. My promises are not like his. I do not keep my men beneath my feet—I lift them up with me."

"Think carefully, Tian Luo. Birds know when to leave the nest… and they are no better than you. Tian Luo, you have two choices: remain a dog, waiting for its master's scraps, or become a wolf—seizing the opportunity!"

From the outside, the general showed no reaction. He remained prostrate, utterly still. The only thing that changed was the heat of the soil beneath his palms. It rose, as if the earth itself could feel the turmoil within him.

He was not a mere stone within a volcano—he was an ember refusing to melt. A crackling coal, glowing brighter, threatening to transform into a river of crawling flames.