The air was thick with smoke and the scent of war.
From the treeline, Kanyou, the capital of Qin, loomed tall and still. Its white stone walls reflected the early sun, deceptively peaceful for a city about to erupt.
But for the rebels within, peace was already broken.
Ren rode beside the mountain people, forming the core of the vanguard assigned to protect Sei.
The Mountain King, Yotanwa, led her warriors like a storm of controlled fury. Behind her, Shoubunkun held the banner of the king. Ren walked near them, his blade strapped and eyes sharp, part of the group entrusted with escorting Sei directly into the royal court.
Meanwhile, far ahead, the real chaos began.
Just like the plan drawn by Shoubunkun, Shin and a small Qin force led a frontal assault at the main gate.
The enemy underestimated them—and Shin cut through the defenders like a thunderbolt.
Mountain warriors scaled the outer walls, howling as they overwhelmed the palace guards.
On the signal, Sei's escort team—Ren included—entered through a side corridor cleared by Yotanwa's elite.
Every second mattered.
The Inner Palace
Inside, the air was close. Tense.
"Stay alert," Shoubunkun warned. "They will try to cut us off."
Ren's grip tightened on his sword. Though not yet fully recovered from his earlier injury, he had insisted on going. His job wasn't to chase glory. It was simple:
Protect the king.
The group advanced through the corridors—narrow, dim stone paths between tall silk banners and lacquered doors. The walls echoed with distant clashes.
A group of Seikyou's elite guards appeared from the side hall.
"Enemies!"
The mountain warriors surged forward. Ren dashed in, his blade meeting steel with a clash that rang down the corridor.
One slash—parried. A second—deflected.
Ren dropped low, swept a leg, and finished the rebel with a clean strike. A sharp sting raced across his ribs—still healing—but he ignored it.
"Clear!" someone called. The path opened again.
As they neared the throne hall, the last stand came.
Seikyou's personal guard, fully armored, blocked the corridor ahead.
Shoubunkun's voice rang out: "Hold them! Just a little longer!"
Yotanwa's warriors roared. Ren fought near Sei, taking down two more enemies, blade slipping past gaps in their armor.
The fighting here was tight—claustrophobic. Ren fought with shorter, faster movements. One wrong step and Sei would be left exposed.
A sword came flying toward the king's flank. Ren turned, slashed, and barely deflected it—earning a shallow cut on his arm.
But Sei was untouched.
The final corridor was cleared. The great double doors of the throne room loomed ahead.
Shoubunkun nodded. "It's time."
Sei strode forward.
Ren slowed—bloodied but standing—as he watched the young king enter the chamber where Seikyou sat smugly on the throne.
There was silence.
Then:
"You're supposed to be dead," Seikyou said, rising.
But Sei's voice echoed, calm and commanding.
"I live."
He stepped into the center of the throne room. Ministers stared in stunned disbelief. Some gasped. Some dropped to their knees immediately.
"I, Ei Sei, rightful king of Qin, return to reclaim my throne."
The room trembled—not from volume, but from conviction.
Ren, standing just inside the doorway with the warriors who had bled for that moment, felt the shift.
The boy king was gone.
This was the king of a nation reborn.