The Game Beneath the Flame

The wind in Jiǔtiān carried the scent of coming storms.

In the northernmost territories of the Empire, where the forests grew thick with darkness and the mountains clawed into the sky like dragon talons, rumors stirred like dust in forgotten scrolls. A murder—thirty lives snuffed out in a single night. No blade. No trace. Only burnt corpses, twisted in agony, and a black sigil scorched into the earth: a wolf's head with crimson eyes.

The Black Wolves Sect had not interfered in state matters for decades. An underground brotherhood steeped in dark arts, black-market weaponry, and forbidden cultivation—demonic arts, some whispered. Their domain was silence and secrets, not war or politics.

But now, death bore their mark.

The Court's Judgement

Inside the Golden Hall of Jiǔtiān Palace, the Emperor sat atop his carved dragon throne, flanked by stone lions and golden pillars, his presence as severe as ever. The court had gathered to hear the imperial decree.

"A tragedy has befallen the city of Hei'an," the Emperor announced. "The murders are not natural. Forbidden arts were used… and we suspect the involvement of the Black Wolves."

A murmur rippled through the court.

"To this end… Prince Long Wei shall lead an investigation."

Heads turned toward the First Prince, who stood tall in his silver robe, expression unreadable.

"And," the Emperor added, "Prince Long Rui shall accompany him."

That murmur turned into a wave.

The Third Prince. Cunning, sharp-tongued, raised within the silk walls of the palace. While Long Wei was a blade, Long Rui was a scalpel—silent, precise, and dangerous in his own way.

They had never worked together.

Now, they were being sent north together.

Night Before Departure – The Empress's Warning

That night, a eunuch came quietly to Long Wei's palace.

"His Highness is summoned by Her Majesty, the Empress."

Long Wei left the warm firelight of his chamber and entered the cool corridors of the Empress's residence. Lanterns cast long shadows as he passed, the silence broken only by the rustle of silk and the clink of his boots.

He found his mother beneath a blossom tree, gazing at the moon.

"Mother," he greeted softly.

She turned slowly, her eyes carrying that familiar blend of sorrow and strength.

"The Emperor is sending you out again," she said, her voice calm but laced with tension. "Another mission. Another battlefield."

Long Wei did not answer.

"And this time… you're not alone. Rui goes with you."

"He does," Long Wei said quietly.

The Empress stepped closer.

"Tell me… do you desire the throne?"

He blinked. Then smiled faintly.

"I have never desired it, Mother."

She nodded.

"I believe you. But power does not wait for desire. And you are caught in its web—whether you want it or not."

"So what would you have me do?" he asked.

She looked up at the stars.

"You must go. But you must not go as a soldier alone. This time, your sword is not your greatest weapon—your mind is. Use it. Watch everything. Everyone."

She placed a scroll into his hand.

"Inside is a list of six court officials who are loyal to your father… and six who are secretly loyal to me. Trust no one else."

He looked at the scroll and tucked it into his robe.

"This is not a war of blades," the Empress continued. "This is a war of names. Of alliances. Your father wants to clear the board before the Crown Prince is chosen."

"And if I'm not chosen?"

"Then war will erupt in this palace. The Empress's line will be crushed. Our enemies are waiting."

Long Wei said nothing for a long time.

Then:

"Then I suppose… it's time I stop playing the dutiful general."

"It's time," the Empress said, "you start playing the game of emperors."

A Strategic Departure

The next morning, beneath the banners of the Phoenix and Dragon, the palace courtyard was alive with fanfare. Drums echoed. Soldiers stood in formation. Long Wei, dressed in traveling armor, stood before the Emperor for final words.

All eyes were on him.

But instead of bowing and turning to leave… he did something unexpected.

He stepped forward.

"Before I go, Your Majesty," he said, "I have a request."

The Emperor's eyes narrowed.

"Speak."

"I ask that you nominate Prince Long Jie as Crown Prince."

A pause.

The silence was so deep it cracked.

Gasps rippled. Even the nobles who prided themselves on stoicism broke form.

The Empress, standing far behind the officials, remained silent—but her eyes narrowed with sharp recognition.

The Second Queen's face turned to ice.

And the Emperor… did not speak for a long moment.

"You would give up your claim to the throne?" the Emperor asked.

"I have never claimed it," Long Wei replied. "But I have fought for this Empire. And I will continue to do so. Long Jie is wise. He is fair. And more importantly… he is not hungry for the crown."

The Emperor's expression darkened subtly. But he nodded.

"Your words have been heard."

The Shadows Move

As Long Wei mounted his horse with his four elite warriors behind him, and Long Rui beside him with a small group of imperial guards, the departure began.

From a palace balcony, Long Jie stood watching.

His sword at his hip, his arms folded behind his back.

His attendant stepped beside him.

"Will you really let him give you the crown, my prince?"

Long Jie's eyes remained on the horizon.

"I never asked for the crown," he said. "But… if my brother and my mother believe it is the only way to preserve our line… then I'll fight."

"Even if it means war?"

"No," Long Jie said softly. "Especially because it means war."

Back in the Court

The Second Queen paced in her garden, her maids silent around her.

"He's starting to play the game," she murmured. "The Empress's son… the war-born."

"Your Highness," a shadowed voice said from a dark archway, "the ministers who lean toward Long Wei… do we remove them?"

She shook her head.

"Not yet. We wait. Let him walk into the darkness first. Let the north devour him."

Next: Into the North

As Long Wei and Long Rui rode toward the dark city of Hei'an, the mountains loomed like giants ahead.

The Black Wolves Sect had not responded to any envoy. Their agents moved unseen. Their weapons corrupted the very qi that gave life to martial artists.

But this time, Long Wei was not merely a warrior.

He was a hunter of shadows.

And the game had finally begun.