The iron gates of the Secluded City didn't just open; they were torn asunder by a divine gale, leaving the path clear for the three legendary nobles and their iron-clad legion. As the five thousand elite soldiers marched forward, their rhythmic footsteps sounded like the beating of a war drum against the city’s heart. On the battlements, the defenders—men who had only known how to bully merchants and tax the poor—shook with a terror that no amount of armor could hide. They realized, with a soul-crushing certainty, that for them, surrender was no longer a mercy they could afford.
Old Zhu, standing atop the wall, felt the first cold touch of true despair. He saw the golden carriage, the azure banners, and the small figure of the prince who had once been his "toy." He knew that staying meant
