The air in the palace was heavy with the scent of polished wood and incense as Yuhua strode through the halls, the rhythmic tapping of her footsteps reverberating off the marble floors. The quiet elegance of her surroundings did little to soothe the storm brewing within her mind—politics, betrayal, war. She had no illusions that peace was permanent, but she had fought to carve it into the kingdom and had shed blood to erase the sins of the past.
A shadow slipped into her path.
"My Queen," the informant whispered, bowing deeply. His voice carried urgency, his movements tense, as if he feared the very words he was about to speak. "It is the Ghost Sect. Their leader has resurfaced."
Yuhua's gaze sharpened, but she remained silent.
"Their operations have begun again in the East," he continued, his voice grim. "Slavery has returned. The markets are active. They are selling lives."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then, Yuhua exhaled, slow and measured.
Her fury did not burst forth in shouts or slammed fists—it simmered, quiet and dangerous, curling around her like the smoke of a dying flame before erupting anew. Her grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger at her waist, as if testing its weight, as if reminding herself that she was not just a queen bound to diplomacy—she was a warrior, forged by battle, shaped by defiance.
"They dare," she murmured, more to herself than to the informant. "After all that has been done to end it, after all the blood that has been spilled to erase it…"
She lifted her chin, her fury now controlled, sharpened into something usable. "Gather the grand guards. We move before this fester into something larger. I want names. Locations. I want their entire network unraveled before they can take root."
The informant nodded, vanishing into the halls as swiftly as he had appeared.
Yuhua turned toward the towering windows overlooking her kingdom—the city stretching far beyond the palace walls. She had fought for these people, had bled for them.
And now, it seemed, she would do so again.
Ghost Sect would learn that some wounds, once inflicted upon a kingdom, did not heal—they ignited.
Queen Yuhua wasted no time. The moment she stepped into the war chambers, the gathered soldiers and commanders straightened, sensing the gravity of her presence. The torches flickered against the stone walls, casting restless shadows as she took her seat at the head of the strategy table.
She placed her palms flat against the surface, scanning the faces before her. These were warriors—men and women who had fought beside her, who had bled to free those shackled by the horrors of Ghost Sect's reign. And now, the battle was upon them again.
"They have reopened the markets," she said, her voice cold, clipped. "The East has become their breeding ground for suffering. We will put an end to it."
General Shun stepped forward, his jaw tight. "We have reports from the outer villages. Their movements are calculated, swift. They use abandoned trade routes and safe houses hidden within merchant districts."
Commander Liu frowned, tracing a map with his fingers. "If we move too soon without proper coordination, they will scatter, disappearing like mist before we can cut them down."
Yuhua inhaled slowly, measuring every possibility, every risk. "We will strike in waves," she declared. "First, infiltrate their operations—gather intel on their buyers, their suppliers, their strongest and weakest points."
A murmur of agreement swept through the room.
"Once we have the knowledge we need," she continued, her eyes burning with conviction, "we will dismantle them, piece by piece. Their leaders must be taken alive, interrogated, forced to confess their alliances."
Her fingers tightened into fists. "But for those who sell lives—for those who profit from suffering—they will not leave the battlefield breathing."
Silence followed, heavy with unspoken vengeance.
Yuhua lifted her gaze. "We have won this fight before. We will win again. Let the Ghost Sect learn—their shadows cannot hide them from justice."
The commanders bowed their heads. The battle was set. And soon, the weight of Ghost Sect's crimes would come crashing down upon them. Yuhua's hands curled into fists at her sides as she faced her gathered generals, her frustration barely concealed. The war council stood firm, their expressions tense with caution. The thought of sitting back while others carried out the mission, while Ghost Sect continued to thrive in the shadows, was unbearable.
"I will not stand idly by," she declared, her voice steady, edged with steel. "I will fight alongside my soldiers as I always have."
General Shun stepped forward, his posture rigid with authority. "Your Majesty, we do not yet know Zhuo Tang's true intentions. He has kept his movements well-guarded. If you march into battle now, unaware of his designs, you may be stepping into a trap."
Commander Liu nodded in agreement. "Ghost Sect is dangerous, but Zhuo Tang is an entirely different threat. He has played the long game for years. If he wishes to use this conflict to his advantage, we must be prepared."
Yuhua narrowed her eyes, every instinct in her body screaming to defy their warnings. She had never shied away from battle, never allowed others to shield her from the dangers of leadership. But even she knew that strategy was the cornerstone of victory.
She exhaled sharply. "Then what do you suggest?"
General Shun exchanged glances with the other commanders before speaking. "We move forward with the mission to dismantle the Ghost Sect, but in the process, we watch Zhuo Tang closely. His network, his alliances, his movements—we uncover every hidden piece of his game before we act against him."
Commander Liu stepped closer. "And when the time comes, Your Majesty, you will strike—but not blindly. You will do so knowing exactly where to deliver the final blow."
Yuhua studied them, her mind racing through the possibilities, the risks. She despised the idea of waiting, of holding back when people suffered under the chains of slavery once more. But recklessness had never won wars—calculated action had.
Her grip loosened, but her determination did not waver. "Fine," she said at last. "We play the long game. But do not mistake my patience for weakness."
The generals bowed their heads in respect.
Yuhua turned away, looking toward the far-reaching halls of the palace. Zhuo Tang lurked in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike. But when the time came, she would be ready.
And this time, she would not allow him to shape the battlefield to his advantage.