A Song For The Ages

The sun hung high as the Red Lotus convoy crested the final hill before the capital. Hu Zhao's fortress city sprawled below them, its layered walls and tiered roofs gleaming with freshly painted banners still bearing the warlord's crimson brand.

Feiyin sat atop one of the forward skyships, eyes calm, posture measured, but his senses alert. Yesterday had been swift, securing the battlefield, ensuring discipline among their ranks, binding Hu Zhao with Qi-restraining shackles, and confiscating key jade slips and command tokens. The warlord had been quiet since his defeat, his eyes burning, but his mouth silent.

It was on that flight back that Feiyin approached Jue Qingling, his voice low, measured. "With Hu Zhao's forces broken and territory now exposed, we may need to rethink our plans. If we simply leave, someone else will claim this land, as it would be ripe for the taking."

Jue Qingling looked at him thoughtfully. "So you believe we should stay?"

"No," Feiyin replied. "We let someone else rule, but ones we can manage. Appoint leaders from those we marked earlier, ones with ambition but no solid loyalties. Give them power, but bind them with gratitude and fear."

He paused, glancing out across the hills stretching behind them. "And if they can hold the city and the trade roads, it'll add stability, good for our operations, good for our name... and good for the innocents in the cracks. Children, especially. A stable regime means fewer raids, less suffering. It's the kind of foundation we can use."

Jue's expression softened by a degree, a rare moment of acknowledgment. "Turn Hu Zhao's legacy into something useful... I like it. It's a good idea, Feiyin."

The Red Lotus mercenaries, under the inner disciples' lead, entered the outer gates without resistance. The capital was braced for their return, not for what would follow.

In the great audience hall of Hu Zhao's palace, the Red Lotus inner disciples stood together at the base of the dais. The space was lined with the symbols of Hu Zhao's regime, banners, gilded weapons, statues of stylized strength. Soldiers filled the corners of the hall, subdued and uncertain. Most of them had heard what happened.

Ba Shanyue, massive and resolute, folded his massive arms in front of him. Jue Qingling stood with poise, her spirit beast curled nearby, its antlers reflecting the torchlight. Ruan Lianhua stood with one hand resting on the hilt of her spectral blade, crimson gaze steady.

Feiyin stood a little farther back, still dressed as a mercenary, eyes lowered, silent. His aura restrained as always.

Hu Zhao knelt at the foot of the dais, wrists and ankles shackled with essence-sealing chains. His armor was gone. His red hair, matted with dust and dried blood, fell loose around a face carved from iron and humiliation.

Jue Qingling stepped forward.

"You all know who we are," she said, her voice projecting across the chamber. "And you know what happened beyond the walls of this city."

The officers of Hu Zhao's army, those who stayed behind, stood in a cluster off to the right. There were ten of them, captains, lieutenants, commanders. Each had been chosen not merely for their rank, but for their temperament and flexibility. They were the type who followed power, not ideals, men and women who still held ambition but lacked absolute loyalty. Individuals who, when pushed, would bend rather than break.

They had been quietly marked during the pre-expedition week, an operation run by Feng Liu and Ruan Lianhua and their sect branch disciples. The two had investigated the city's command structure, observing those most susceptible to influence, compiling the names of officers who could be swayed.

Now, those very officers stood watching, caught between fear and opportunity.

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Jue Qingling's voice lowered. "We will not occupy this territory. We are not interested in ruling Hu Zhao's people. But someone must."

A ripple passed through the hall.

Ba Shanyue stepped forward. "We are not offering power freely. Those who take up this mantle must prove themselves, not just in ambition, but in resolve."

Ruan Lianhua's voice followed like a whisper of steel. "And in loyalty."

Jue Qingling turned to the restrained Hu Zhao. "You all served this man. Some of you out of duty. Some of you out of fear. Today, you are offered a choice."

The officers tensed.

"We offer leadership of this territory. Authority, governance, and protection under the Red Lotus name. You will have access to resources, alliances, trade... and autonomy."

Another pause.

"But only one of you will claim it."

She drew a long, narrow blade and let it rest on Hu Zhao's shoulder. His head lifted, gaze filled with fire.

"The one who strikes the killing blow," she said, "will be named governor of this territory. The rest will be his council."

Gasps echoed through the chamber. The officers glanced at one another, alarm flickering in their expressions.

Commander Xu, older and weathered, grimaced. "You would have us kill our commander? Our leader?"

Jue Qingling's voice didn't waver. "He was willing to slaughter you for a ruin. Are you loyal to him, or to your survival?"

"You offer us a crown dipped in blood," another officer muttered, glancing toward the chained warlord. His eyes flicked between the inner disciples and the restrained man with visible unease.

Ba Shanyue snorted. "Only kind worth anything."

Feiyin stood off to the side, hands folded, gaze watchful. He could see it in their postures, the hesitation, but also the hunger. Men like these had climbed through corpses and compromise. What they lacked wasn't ambition, it was certainty.

Hu Zhao gave a hoarse laugh. "This is what you are? Traitors waiting for a signal."

Ruan Lianhua met his gaze coldly. "No. Survivors."

A long silence followed. The officers looked at one another, tense and uncertain. But then the tension shifted, hope mingled with desperation.

Lieutenant Han's breath hitched. His eyes darted once toward the dais, once toward the other officers. Then he stepped forward, shoulders taut. A man who had reached the edge of caution and now saw only one way forward.

He unsheathed his blade.

Hu Zhao's gaze fixed on him. Still, no plea. No roar.

The first strike came with a grunt of effort. It wasn't deep, just enough to make the others flinch.

Then another officer moved, not to stop him, but to join. Their eyes had the gleam of men who smelled the scent of power, just beyond reach.

A third followed, then a fourth.

The fourth wound staggered Hu Zhao.

And finally, Commander Xu, once hesitant yet now hard-faced, stepped forward. His expression was no longer conflicted.

He knelt before Hu Zhao, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"You would've ended up killing me one day anyway. So forgive me."

His blade slid in, clean and decisive.

Hu Zhao crumpled, his breath leaving with no ceremony.

Jue Qingling said nothing.

But in her eyes, there was quiet satisfaction, as everything went as planned.

She gestured. "Commander Xu, take the reins. Keep the territory from tearing itself apart. You already know the officers, so you'll lead them."

Xu bowed, chest still heaving. "I will."

Ba Shanyue turned toward Xu. "The contract with Hu Zhao has ended. The mine, the support channels, all tied to him are now void. If we wish to continue our operations in this region, we need a new agreement, one with someone we can count on."

He nodded to the hallway behind the throne room. "There's a command office in the back. Let's make it official."

Ruan Lianhua stepped in as Commander Xu turned. "Clean this mess up," she said to the remaining officers, nodding toward the blood pooling around Hu Zhao's body.

They nodded quickly, some already pulling cloth and signaling staff to handle the body.

The Red Lotus inner disciples followed a sweating Xu into the inner office chamber to renegotiate the terms of rule, their silhouettes framed by the tall archway as the door slowly shut behind them.