Chapter 3: I Won

The shock on the imperial court instantly settled the disputed succession.

Who would dare challenge a Saint Realm cultivator for the throne, especially when that Saint Realm cultivator already sat upon it?

Throughout history, only Saint Realm cultivators had ever seized the throne by rebellion—no one in their right mind would provoke a Saint Realm powerhouse.

What’s the difference between that and seeking death?

The entire hall fell into an eerie silence, so quiet a pin could be heard dropping.

Originally, everyone at this court session believed the three main players were the Empress Dowager, the Chancellor, and the Grand General who Protected the Nation.

Each of them led their own faction, and their subordinates controlled most of the court’s power.

After this session, their influence would grow even stronger.

Then a powerful second prince had appeared out of nowhere, already catching everyone off guard.

Now, the new emperor, Li Chen, was utterly invincible—the Chancellor and the Grand General dared not speak, not even daring to breathe loudly.

All conspiracies, all factional struggles, were mere clouds before absolute power.

After all, if angered, the new emperor Li Chen could kill everyone present and replace them with obedient substitutes.

Here, no minister needed to wonder whether Li Chen would dare—he could do it, and no one could stop him.

“Second son,” Li Chen said to Li Xian, who trembled before the throne.

“Your servant—I am here,” Li Xian replied, immediately kneeling on the ground.

How could he now claim to be Li Chen’s second brother? He had already bowed his head and submitted.

Recalling how he had just defied the new emperor, declaring himself the rightful emperor, he was drenched in sweat.

He knew that if Li Chen chose to execute him now, no one could save him—and he had no moral ground to stand on.

He hadn’t claimed the throne, and now his life might be forfeit.

“What I bestow upon you is yours; what I do not give, you may not seize—do you understand?”

“Your servant understands. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

Seeing the entire court fall utterly silent, Li Chen finally showed a look of satisfaction.

He had originally doubted his own fitness to be emperor and had been reluctant to speak.

But after the second prince’s outburst, Li Chen instead thought: If not me, then who? Who is stronger than I am?

“That concludes today’s court session. The first minister on the left and the first on the right, report to my imperial study this afternoon.”

This time, as Li Chen rose to leave, not a single official dared utter another word.

The ministers bowed respectfully as he departed—even the Empress Dowager waited until Li Chen had left before she dared to move.

Not to mention Li Xian, the second prince, who still knelt in the grand hall.

Finally, the Minister of Rites helped him to his feet, offering him a face-saving exit, and only then did he dare to leave.

“Your Highness, you arrived at a terrible time. Shall we return first and plan our next move?”

Outside the imperial palace, the Minister of Rites saw his master could not swallow his humiliation and feared he might cause trouble, so he began to soothe him.

Li Xian had plotted for years, waiting patiently for the crown prince’s sudden death—how could he willingly abandon his chance now?

Just now in the court, he had been terrified—only fear for his life had made him kneel before Li Chen.

Now that he was outside the palace, his courage swelled again.

“You’re right—I can’t stay in the capital anymore. I must bring my master here. Only a Saint Realm cultivator can oppose another Saint Realm cultivator!”

Li Xian’s strength came from becoming a disciple of a living supreme master.

He had rushed here immediately upon receiving a secret message from the Minister of Rites, arriving empty-handed—and had been thoroughly humiliated by Li Chen.

Now he must plan slowly—but the throne will still be mine!

On his way out of the capital, Li Xian couldn’t fathom how his sixth brother had attained such cultivation.

He hadn’t even been secure on the throne—and now, with my outburst, he’s become unshakable!

Damn it—I’ve become his pawn!

Meanwhile, on the frontier of the Tian Ce Dynasty.

The army rolled like a vast, churning sea of black, majestic and awe-inspiring. Sunlight glinted off iron armor, each shield and spear seeming to carry the valor and glory of countless warriors.

This army was unquestionably the army of victors, advancing toward the distant capital with unstoppable momentum.

Every pass they passed through yielded passage without resistance.

The third prince, the young commander of the Tian Ce Dynasty, wore a military uniform edged with gold, his noble status evident and his aura forbidding.

His face was resolute, his gaze deep and sharp; his forehead, bare and full, was framed by neatly bound hair beneath his helmet, adding to his martial vigor.

A faint, calm smile lingered on his lips—the composure of a man who already held the throne in his grasp.

The third prince thought: Even if the second brother returns faster, what of it? When my army reaches the capital’s gates, won’t the throne still be mine?

Who dares withstand the might of this army?

This was the lesson he had learned after years of training on the frontier.

That was why he had long secured command of this elite force—waiting for the right moment to ascend.

The old emperor was dead; no one remained to restrain him.

!

Even if the second brother has cultivated to great heights, can he possibly reach the Saint Realm?

As the third prince rode his steed, he pondered how he would instruct the historians to record his succession as legitimate.

A messenger galloped ahead.

The third prince’s subordinates instinctively moved to intercept the messenger, protecting his safety.

But he waved them off, signaling calm—he knew this man was his own, likely bearing news from the capital.

The messenger reined in before the third prince, dismounted, and respectfully handed him a sealed letter.

The third prince frowned as he opened it, sensing ill tidings—but the contents stunned him.

“Withdraw the army. Return to the frontier!”

The third prince immediately issued the order.

In this army, his word was law.

As the deputy commander began organizing the retreat, he asked curiously: “Your Highness, what happened in the capital?”

The third prince remained silent for a long moment, then gave a bitter smile: “The sixth brother hid his strength—he’s a Saint Realm cultivator. He scared the second brother into fleeing the capital.”

He hadn’t intended to speak, wanting to maintain troop morale—but this news would reach everyone soon anyway; better he say it himself.

At these words, the deputy commander dared not reply.

What? The new emperor, Li Chen, is a Saint Realm cultivator?

No wonder the third prince dared not march on the capital.

Had the message merely claimed Li Chen had reached the Saint Realm, the third prince would never have believed it.

He would have suspected it was a deception by court officials, meant to halt his return.

Who could reach the Saint Realm at such a young age? This was no age of great contention.

But the second brother, who had cultivated so far, had fled in terror—proof enough that the sixth brother’s power was terrifying.

The third prince withdrew because he feared only the Saint Realm.

A Saint Realm cultivator might not slaughter his entire army, but he could easily cut down the third prince in the midst of ten thousand soldiers.

How could the third prince not fear?

He didn’t understand—wasn’t the second brother the most gifted among the imperial princes?

He had even taken a Saint Realm master as his teacher.

How had the usually meek sixth brother surpassed him?

Li Chen revealed his power once—and the second prince fled the capital overnight, the third prince recalled his entire mutiny.

Meanwhile, Li Chen was napping in his chambers, while two senior ministers waited trembling in his imperial study for his arrival.

(End of Chapter)