Liu Xie raised a hand. "My new Prime Minister will be a man of experience. A man who understands both the court and the old ways of the Murim. A man who has proven his loyalty to the throne in its darkest hour."

He looked across the hall, straight at the man standing in the place of honor.

"Murong Sheng."

The name landed like a blade on stone.

Before the echo faded, a single voice cut through the hall.

"I, Bai Xiaochun, do not agree."

Every head turned. Alex stood near the center of the chamber, white robes still marked with the dust of the road. He had entered without ceremony, and the shock of his presence rippled outward like a stone dropped in still water. Governors who had been whispering fell silent.

Even the Emperor's hands tightened on the arms of the throne.

Liu Xie stared. He had not expected this. Not here. Not now. Fear coiled cold in his stomach, but he forced his spine straight.

"Prime Minister," he said, trying to sound regal, "this is my country. I am the Emperor. Why should I not make decisions for my own realm? Is it me who rules Xia, or you?"

Alex bowed once, precise and unhurried. When he straightened, his voice was calm, almost gentle.

"This country belongs to you, Your Majesty. The position of Prime Minister belongs to me."

A few governors shifted. The Emperor's jaw worked.

Alex continued without raising his voice. "I accept that my cultivation keeps me from the daily work of governance. But the way I have handled the people and the governors under my charge has been without flaw. Ask them yourself."

He turned his head slightly. Every governor in the hall bowed as one.

"Yes, Your Majesty," they said, voices overlapping but clear. "Prime Minister Bai Xiaochun has done his duty with excellence."

The sound rolled through the chamber and died.

Liu Xie felt the weight of it settle on his shoulders. He was alone here. The eighteen governors stood with the man he had just tried to dismiss.

Murong Sheng stepped forward.

"You, Bai Xiaochun," he said. "This country of Xia belongs to the ancestors of the Liu family. The Emperor is Liu Xie. He decides what he wishes."

Alex met his gaze without blinking.

"I, Bai Xiaochun, agree completely with what you have said."

The words dropped into the hall like ice into hot water. Murong Sheng's mouth opened, then closed. The Emperor's eyes widened. Even Zhuge Liang's brow lifted a fraction.

"Then what is your objection?" Murong Sheng demanded.

Alex's voice remained steady. “If I am to hand over the leadership of this empire as Prime Minister, I would rather see it pass to Zhuge Liang. He knows every province, every river, every border. I have already begun teaching him to take my place."

Murong Sheng's lip curled. "That weak scholar? He would be cut down by the first enemy who crossed his path."

"I agree," Alex said.

The silence that followed was absolute. Governors stared. The Emperor's face had gone pale. Murong Sheng's hands clenched at his sides.

Alex let the moment stretch, then spoke again, softer now, almost conversational.

"If Your Majesty wishes to replace me with stronger hands, there are three men in this empire who already outrank Murong Sheng. He holds only the fourth rank. I do not believe he is the right man to stand at the Emperor's right hand.”

"You bastard," he snarled. "I am the number one."

Alex turned his head slowly. His gaze was steady, almost bored. "Watch your tone. I am still Prime Minister. You are nothing yet."

He looked past Murong Sheng to the throne.

"Your Majesty," Alex said, voice clear and carrying to every corner of the chamber. "I will step down the moment you command it. But only under one condition. Name Zhuge Liang as Prime Minister. Or, if you prefer one of the four highest-ranked cultivators, let them prove their strength here and now, in front of every governor present. Not by old reputation. By what they can do today. Choose the strongest in open contest, and that man will stand at your right hand."

A low murmur swept the governors. They shifted where they stood, faces tight, as if the polished floor had suddenly turned to burning coals. One by one they bowed.

"Your Majesty," the senior governor said. "For the good of Xia and its people, Zhuge Liang is more than capable. We support Prime Minister Bai Xiaochun's proposal."

Another governor lifted his head. "If Your Majesty wishes to test the strongest among the top ranks, we agree. Let them prove it before us all. The victor earns the seat."

Murong Sheng's jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped. He swung toward the throne, eyes blazing.

"Your Majesty, I am Murong Sheng, the undisputed number one cultivator in Xia. Everyone knows it. I once led the entire Murim Alliance. No one stands above me."

Alex gave a short, cold laugh. “I lead the Murim Alliance now. Yet I do not claim the title of number one until it is proven. If you truly are the strongest, and the other top ranks stand here with us, then let us see it. Right now. In front of the Emperor and every governor. Or are you afraid the old title will not hold?"

The challenge hung in the air like drawn steel.

Liu Xie sat motionless on the throne. His fingers pressed hard into the carved armrests. He wanted Bai Xiaochun gone.

He wanted the man's influence broken. If Murong Sheng had to fight for it in public, so be it.

Whoever won would still need the throne's favor to hold power. They would be his to control. Anything was better than leaving Zhuge Liang-or Bai Xiaochun-in that seat.

The Emperor drew a slow breath. When he spoke, his voice was steady.

"I agree."

Murong Sheng's jaw was tight. He shot Alex a look of pure hatred before turning to bow toward the throne.

"We will do as Your Majesty commands."

An hour later the four stood on the platform.

Ling Fengxian, the Wind Immortal,

robes fluttering though no breeze touched the square. Xiao W the Limitless Sovereign, broad-shouldered and still as stone. Zhan Tianba the leaver Severing Tyrant, scarred and grinning like a wolf. Murong Sheng, the Heavenly Star of the Murong clan, posture perfect, eyes already calculating.

All four had reached the Nascent Soul realm. The air around them felt charged,

heavy enough to press against the skin of every spectator.

Murong Sheng stepped forward first.

"Brothers," he called, not loud

enough for the gathered governors and officials to hear. "We are here to protect Xia from the Prussian spy Bar Xiaochun. None of you truly want the Prime Minister's seat. Give me the rank of number one and the matter ends here. We stand united."

Xiao Wuji laughed, a short, sharp sound that carried across the square.

"Murong Sheng, I can hand you the position of Prime Minister if that is what you desires. But the title of number one in all of Xia?" He shook his head. "That I will not

give."

"Nor will I," Ling Fengxian added, voice cool and precise. "We are cultivators. The desire to stand at the peak lives in every one of us. You cannot simply ask us to surrender it."

"Fine." Murong Sheng's voice carried across the stone. "I will fight Zhan Tianba. Ling Fengxian will face Xiao Wuji. The winners will decide who stands as number one. The loser of that final match yields the title."

Zhan Tianba's eyes narrowed. He knew exactly why Murong Sheng had chosen him first. The man wanted the easiest path to the final. Old fox.

"Begin," Murong Sheng said.

The air split.

Ling Fengxian moved first. His robes snapped in a sudden gale as he launched toward Xiao Wuji. Wind screamed around his blade, sharp enough to flay skin from bone.

Xiao Wuji met him with a sword that hit like thunder. His sword flashed once, and the ground between them cracked in a straight line twenty paces long.

On the other side, Murong Sheng and Zhan Tianba collided without warning. Murong's blade moved in tight, precise arcs, each strike carrying the weight of decades of Murim leadership.

Zhan Tianba answered with raw power, his swings heavy enough to shake the plaza stones. Every clash sent shockwaves outward. Dust rose in choking clouds. The watching soldiers staggered back, hands pressed to their ears against the ringing pressure of Nascent Soul qi.

Inside a side chamber overlooking the plaza, Zhuge Liang stood with the governors. The door was shut. The windows were covered. No one outside knew they were there.

"My lord, if Murong Sheng wins the final match, the governors will have no choice

but to accept him as prime minister. The people will see it as legitimate.”

One of the senior governors stepped forward. His face was pale. “Sire,” the eldest among them said, “tell us plainly. Did you truly accept the order to

step down as Prime Minister? If you refuse, we will stand together and place you on the Emperor's seat."

The others nodded in unison. Their faces were tight with fear and resolve.

Alex shook his head once. "No. I do not belong on that throne. Stepping down is my choice. I want Zhuge Liang to guide this country because he will make it stronger and its people safer Murong Sheng is no the mar for it simply want someone better in the seat."

The governors exchanged glances. One of them spoke, voice thick.

"Your heart for Xia runs deeper than any of us realized. It is a shame the Emperor cannot see it."

They spoke quietly while the sounds of battle drifted in from the plaza. The conversation lasted until the first pair of fights ended.

Murong Sheng had defeated Zhan Tianba. Xiao Wuji had defeated Ling Fengxian. Both victors stood breathing hard, robes torn, qi still crackling around them.

Alex stepped out onto the viewing platform and began to clap, slow and deliberate. The sound carried across the plaza.

"Both of you have fought well," he said. “You must be exhausted. The final match can wait until tomorrow, when your strength has returned."

Murong Sheng wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and spat on the stones.

"No. We finish this today."

Alex studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Then be careful. The more desperate the fight, the easier it is to lose control. I can summon Wudang disciples to raise protective barriers. You will be able to go all out without fear of harming the spectators."

Murong Sheng's eyes flashed with contempt. "We do not need your protection. We control our swords and our power. We are not like you."

Alex exhaled through his nose. "Very well. Fight for the title of number one. I will not

interfere."

Murong Sheng and Xiao Wuji turned to face each other. The air between them grew

heavy.

“At last,” Xiao Wuji said, voice low and eager. “We settle who stands above all others."

"You will lose again," Murong Sheng replied.

They moved at the same instant.

Swords met with a crack that split the air. Murong Sheng's blade blurred into

afterimages, each strike precise and lethal. Xiao Wuji answered with wild, overwhelming force.

His sword danced in wide arcs that sent gusts of wind tearing across the plaza. Stone flags cracked beneath their feet.

The pressure of their Nascent Soul qi pressed outward in waves, making the

watching soldiers struggle to stay upright.

Murong Sheng launched his flying sword. It streaked forward like a silver bolt. Xiao

Wuji met it head-on with a chaotic, spinning slash.

The impact was violent. The flying sword spun off course, deflected wildly,

screaming through the air toward the imperial viewing stand.

It happened too fast for anyone to react.

The blade punched straight through Emperor Liu Xie's chest and buried itself in the

back of the throne. The Emperor jerked once. His eyes widened in shock.

Blood poured down the front of the dragon robe in a dark flood. He slumped forward, one hand still gripping the armrest.

For a single heartbeat, the entire plaza fell silent.

Then the screaming began.