99

"You should abdicate!" The sudden outburst from the Left Chancellor shattered the silence of the imperial hall.

Emperor Shengming's body jolted as he blurted, "What?!" He glanced at the expressionless Right Chancellor and the gathered ministers, then clenched his teeth and growled, "So you've all conspired long ago. That whole performance just now—it was all for my benefit, wasn't it? Treacherous dogs!"

The Left Chancellor remained indifferent. "That was our affair. Had you obediently continued as a ceremonial emperor, we might have allowed you to sit comfortably a while longer. But you couldn't help yourself. Since that's the case, abdication is the best outcome—for you. At least you get to keep your life."

"Hahaha..." The Emperor laughed in fury. "Martial heroes defying law... yes, just like the old tales. Come then! All of you! You've thrown my empire into chaos! You've turned my realm upside down! I saw this day coming twenty years ago! When those martial sects seized thousands of acres around their temples, when their numbers swelled into the tens of thousands—I knew, one day, they would threaten the throne. I thought if you infiltrated the court, gained a few titles, you'd be content. But now you want to drag me down and place yourselves on the throne? Hmph! You've got some nerve!" With a thunderous crash, Shengming slammed his palm on the dragon throne.

"His Majesty has gone mad," a military official muttered coldly, staring at the Emperor.

"Indeed. Years of toil have weakened his mind. We all saw the signs," another officer added, his voice equally cold.

"The Emperor, now afflicted with madness, can no longer govern," a third minister chimed in.

"Chancellor Situ of the Left possesses great talent and has long enjoyed His Majesty's trust," said another minister, solemnly.

"His Majesty, in moments of lucidity, lamented his condition. Even the royal physicians were helpless. With no heir and the empire in his hands, he expressed concern for the nation's fate."

A sixth minister stepped forward. "Believing Chancellor Situ capable of bearing the burden of the realm, His Majesty resolved to abdicate in his favor."

"Hahaha... What a cabal of traitors! You've even drafted the imperial edict of abdication already! Wonderful... truly wonderful!" Shengming spat the words through clenched teeth. "Go on, what else haven't you said yet?"

It was then the Right Chancellor stepped forth and delivered the final blow: "Chancellor Situ declined repeatedly, but could not defy His Majesty's decree. In the presence of all ministers, His Majesty personally wrote a rough draft of the edict. It was passed to the imperial scribe to be formalized. Shortly thereafter, His Majesty began coughing blood uncontrollably and, despite the best efforts of the royal physicians, passed away. The Great Virtuous Emperor Shengming, benevolent and wise, may be remembered among the legendary sage-kings."

"Well said!" the Emperor sneered, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Such loyalty from my beloved subjects! You even prepared my posthumous tribute! What other plots are you hiding, Chancellor Situ?"

Situ's voice remained calm. "That question should be directed at Your Majesty. Two eunuchs and two palace guards died mysteriously in this very hall. Yet you remain calm—as if you expected this. Fine then. Let us see who you've hidden behind that screen who dares to embolden you."

From the moment morning court began, the screen behind the throne had been utterly silent—almost as if no one were there.

"A ruler unfit to rule, ministers unworthy of service. This farce has gone on long enough," came a calm voice from behind the screen.

Situ's expression shifted. "Who dares speak so boldly? If you're from the martial world, then you know the rules."

No sooner had he spoken than several military officials behind him tore off their armor, revealing the robes of three major sword sects—Mu Zi, Northern Ice, and Southern Star. Beneath the armor, each still bore a sword.

"You dare bring blades into the throne room?!" Shengming roared.

"We've done worse," sneered the Right Chancellor, his eyes gleaming coldly. "And we're about to do something even bolder."

"Kill that meddling rogue behind the screen," Situ ordered coolly, turning to leave the hall. "Then have the Emperor sign the abdication." To him, it mattered little who was behind the screen. Ten cultivators at the Ascension Realm were more than enough to handle it. Just another clown behind a curtain—not worth his concern.

Clack. Clack. Clack...

Footsteps rang out—slow, deliberate, drawing steadily nearer. And yet... why was there no sound from behind? Where were the Right Chancellor and the others? Situ frowned. Something was wrong.

He reached the doorway—then hesitated.

A cold voice echoed from behind.

"You shouldn't have turned around..."

The last thing the Left Chancellor saw was a hall full of comrades impaled by radiant swords, blood pouring from their mouths in unnatural silence—and then a fist hurtling straight for his face.

Boom!

The gates of Chongming Hall burst open. A battered figure was flung through the doorway, crashing heavily to the ground. His face was unrecognizable, but the shredded remains of his official robes revealed his identity: Chancellor Situ.

"Chancellor Situ attempted regicide during court and has been executed," came a voice from within—loud, clear, and heavy with imperial authority. "The Right Chancellor gave his life in loyal defense of Us. For his sacrifice, he shall be posthumously granted the title Duke of Bright Moon and buried with the honors of a national hero. All other conspirators have been executed. Let this be a warning to all—traitorous hearts shall find no shelter. Year 26 of the Great Virtue Era, by Our own decree."

That proclamation was swiftly formalized as an imperial edict and posted across the empire. On that same day, elite enforcers from the Six Gates and the imperial secret service launched coordinated purges. Traveling with them was a black palanquin borne by imperial guards. Any rebel warrior who resisted and surpassed the guards in strength was slain instantly by strange, radiant weapons fired from within the palanquin.

On that day, the imperial family's hidden power was fully revealed. From the moment Shengming ascended the throne, he had been quietly nurturing a loyal force in the shadows—but for twenty-six years, he never once called upon them.

The martial world was fierce, blades always drawn—but when it came to strategy and subtlety, ten swordmasters were no match for one court scholar.

Nearly half of the civil and military officials lay dead. The rest—fence-sitters and cowards—were left untouched. Many old ministers, once granted leave to retire, were summoned back to reclaim their former posts. They wept with joy, brushing off their official robes. The traitors had finally been brought to justice.