The pristine marble corridors of the Heaven Dou Imperial Palace, usually a sanctuary of measured whispers and dignified silence, felt as though they had been plunged into a freezing, suffocating vacuum. The metallic tang of fresh blood lingered heavily in the air, a stark, visceral reminder of the violence that had just transpired.
The news of the Fourth Prince's gruesome blinding spread through the sprawling palace complex with the terrifying speed of a rampant wildfire. Servants trembled in the alcoves, their faces pale as parchment. Elite royal guards, clad in their gleaming silver armor, stood rigidly at their posts, their knuckles turning white as they gripped their halberds.
It was not that the people of the palace lacked indignation. Deep within the opulent chambers of the inner court, several high-ranking ministers and staunch royalists were seething with a furious, boiling anger. They paced their lavish rooms, demanding that someone step forward to petition Emperor Xue Ye. They wanted the Emperor to announce a severe, crippling punishment for this impudent Marquis of the North. How could anyone be so audacious as to violently pull the eyeballs from a prince of the imperial bloodline in such a dismissive, casual manner? Zhang Tian had not even attempted to conceal his actions or flee the scene; he had simply wiped his hands and continued walking, as though he did not care in the slightest about the authority of the Imperial Family or the laws of the court.
The furious ministers muttered among themselves about cutting off all imperial funding to Crimson Zenith City, seizing his lucrative Spirit Tool industries spread across the Heaven Dou Empire, and mobilizing the royal legions. It truly felt as though Zhang Tian was carelessly wiping his boots on the very face of the Heaven Dou imperial court.
Yet, for all their whispered outrage and hollow threats behind closed doors, a profound, paralyzing terror gripped their throats. No one dared to actually step out of their chambers to cause a public commotion. The reason was simple and chilling: Zhang Tian was still here. He was currently walking through the palace corridors. His sheer audacity had broken their courage. The ministers and generals feared that if they dared to raise a voice against him while he was within the palace walls, they would inevitably be targeted next. If he could blind a prince without a flicker of hesitation, what would he do to a mere minister? This was exactly how strong, and how terrifyingly untouchable, Zhang Tian had become in their minds.
Meanwhile, far from the frantic whispers of the court, the Fourth Prince Xue Beng was experiencing a living nightmare. He writhed upon a plush medical cot in the royal infirmary, his agonizing screams echoing against the stone walls. A frantic team of the empire's finest healing Spirit Masters surrounded him, their hands glowing with soft, soothing light as they desperately tried to staunch the heavy flow of blood gushing from his empty, ruined eye sockets. The physical pain was excruciating, but the sudden, total darkness that had consumed his world brought a despair that fractured his mind. His grand, foolish fantasies of claiming the throne and stealing the beauties of the north had been violently, permanently extinguished in a single second.
Unbothered by the chaos he had left in his wake, Zhang Tian walked smoothly toward the deepest, most secure sector of the palace. Ah Yin walked gracefully by his side, her arm resting lightly in his, while Xue Qinghe—the flawless imposter, Liam—led the way with the measured, dignified steps of a Crown Prince.
They arrived before the towering, heavy oak doors of Emperor Xue Ye's private study. The elite guards stationed there swallowed hard, their eyes darting nervously toward Zhang Tian, but they did not dare cross their spears to block his path. They bowed deeply and pulled the heavy doors open.
The private study was a vast, circular room lined with towering bookshelves filled with ancient texts and bound scrolls. The scent of aged paper and expensive incense filled the air. At the far end of the room, seated behind a massive, intricately carved desk of dark mahogany, was Emperor Xue Ye.
The aging ruler looked up from a sprawling map of the empire's agricultural yields. His brow furrowed in genuine surprise as he saw the trio enter. He had not expected to see the Marquis of the North today, let alone accompanied by a breathtaking crimson-haired woman and his eldest son.
Emperor Xue Ye set his quill down, pushing his fatigue aside to offer a polite, welcoming smile.
"Marquis Zhang Tian, this is a rare surprise," Xue Ye greeted calmly, his voice carrying the practiced, smooth cadence of a seasoned ruler. He nodded graciously toward Ah Yin. "And greetings to you, Miss Ah Yin. Please, come in. Take your seats."
He gestured to the comfortable, high-backed leather chairs positioned across from his desk.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Xue Ye asked, leaning back in his chair, his eyes shifting between Zhang Tian and his son. "Do you require something specific from the crown for specially making a trip to my private study today?"
Zhang Tian did not offer a formal bow. He walked forward, his posture entirely relaxed, and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other. Ah Yin stood elegantly just behind his right shoulder, a serene, unreadable expression on her flawless face. Xue Qinghe remained standing to the side, his hands clasped behind his back, playing the role of the dutiful son to perfection.
Zhang Tian stared directly into Xue Ye's tired, calculating eyes. He did not bother with pleasantries or political dancing.
"I have come for a very simple matter, Your Majesty," Zhang Tian spoke, his tone casual, yet carrying an undeniable, heavy weight. "I want you to officially abdicate your throne. I want you to pass the crown and the total authority of this empire onto Xue Qinghe as quickly as possible. Today, if it can be arranged."
The silence that followed those words was profound.
Emperor Xue Ye froze, all the air rushing out of his lungs. His eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock. He slowly turned his head, staring wide-eyed at his eldest son, frantically searching the Crown Prince's face to see if this was a sudden, treacherous coup orchestrated by his own flesh and blood. He wondered if Xue Qinghe had finally grown impatient and brought this northern monster here to force his hand.
But Xue Ye saw only a perfectly blank, expressionless look on Xue Qinghe's face. The Crown Prince betrayed neither ambition nor surprise.
"There is no need to scrutinize the Crown Prince's face, Emperor," Zhang Tian told him, his voice smooth and unbothered. "This is not his idea. He is as loyal a son as you could hope for. This demand comes entirely from me. I want to get this tedious transition of power over with as early as possible, before the impending war against the Star Luo Empire officially begins."
Xue Ye's shock compounded, his mind reeling from the successive blows. "A war? Against the Star Luo Empire?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he leaned forward, gripping the edges of his desk. "Why do you speak of this with such certainty? And even if a conflict looms on the horizon, why is my immediate abdication so vital for the preparation of that war?"
Zhang Tian smiled faintly, a cold, calculating light gleaming in his icy blue eyes.
"There are many deep-rooted, systemic issues within this empire that must be ruthlessly dealt with before the banners are raised," Zhang Tian explained very calmly, leaning back into his chair. "Some of these issues are things that you, with your current political entanglements, will simply never be able to accomplish. I am speaking of cleaning out the severe, festering corruption within your Noble Families. I am speaking of dealing with the opportunistic, fence-sitter kingdoms and duchies who drain your resources while offering no true loyalty. These factions must be brought to heel with thunderous, unforgiving means."
Zhang Tian's gaze darkened. "Furthermore, the hidden rot of the Fallen Spirit Masters operating within your borders must be completely eradicated. This is no longer a simple matter of law enforcement. You are aware that the Clear Sky Sect's legendary ancestor, Tang Chen, has returned to the Star Luo Empire. But what your spies have failed to discover is his true identity during his long absence."
Zhang Tian leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Tang Chen is the new Slaughter King, the supreme ruler of the Slaughter City."
This piece of information struck Xue Ye like a physical blow. The old emperor slumped back into his chair, the color completely draining from his face.
He had known about Tang Chen's sudden return to the Clear Sky Sect, which was currently acting as the martial backbone of the Star Luo Empire. He had also received the staggering reports detailing the massive, failed siege launched by the southern sects against the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect—an attack that had been decisively crushed by Zhang Tian, Ning Fengzhi, and the swift intervention of the Spirit Hall.
But Xue Ye had absolutely no idea about Tang Chen holding the title of the Slaughter King.
"The Slaughter King..." Xue Ye murmured, his hands shaking. He knew of the mythical, cursed city. It was a hellish sinkhole that gathered the most vile, depraved, and murderous Fallen Spirit Masters on the continent.
"Yes," Zhang Tian nodded. "In a very real sense, Tang Chen possesses the authority and the means to mobilize thousands of deranged Fallen Spirit Masters from the depths of Slaughter City. He could easily unleash them across the borders to sow chaos. Therefore, we need to immediately implement a series of harsh, uncompromising internal reforms, along with deploying my advanced Spirit Tools across the cities, in case such an army of Fallen Spirit Masters is sent to attack territories deep within the Heaven Dou Empire."
It was a shocking, horrifying revelation that truly did make the upcoming political landscape infinitely more troublesome.
Xue Ye swallowed hard, trying to regain his royal composure. He looked at Zhang Tian, a defensive edge entering his voice. "I hear your warnings, Marquis. And I understand the gravity of the threat. But I am still the Emperor. I could accomplish these harsh reforms as well. I can sign the decrees today. Why do you insist that I need to abdicate and let Xue Qinghe take the throne to implement them?"
Zhang Tian smirked, a sound of genuine, dry amusement escaping him. He looked at the aging ruler with a mixture of pity and condescension.
"Do you truly not understand your own position, Emperor Xue Ye?" Zhang Tian asked, tilting his head slightly. "Or are you merely trying to pretend ignorance in front of me?"
Zhang Tian let the silence hang for a moment before deciding to humor the old man. "I will explain it plainly. You cannot do this because of the intricate, cowardly balancing politics you have practiced for your entire reign. For decades, you have actively chosen not to punish those high-ranking nobles who have been involved in audacious, treasonous actions. You have turned a blind eye to their rampant corruption, their blatant theft of military supplies, and their embezzlement of cultivation resources meant for the provincial Spirit Master Academies."
Zhang Tian listed the emperor's sins with clinical precision. "You have even gone so far as to quietly protect certain Noble Families that were caught dealing with Fallen Spirit Masters. You allowed those families to commit all sorts of evil acts, simply because you wanted to keep them in your pocket, hoping to use their hidden, dirty strength as a blade against the growing influence of the Spirit Hall someday in the distant future. Your hands are tied by a thousand invisible threads of compromise."
Xue Ye flinched, unable to deny the harsh truth of his own political maneuvering.
"If you were to suddenly flip your stance and really start helping me clear away all of these corrupt factions," Zhang Tian continued, "you yourself would be caught in the explosive aftermath. There are certain ledgers, hidden testimonies, and dark secrets currently held by those Noble Families that could directly, severely implicate the crown. But it is not just the fear of scandal. It is the deep, familial and marital relationships you share with these very nobles."
Zhang Tian waved a hand dismissively. "I simply wish to avoid that messy, emotional entanglement. I do not want to be forced to openly, repeatedly step on the Heaven Dou Imperial Family's face by executing your cousins and childhood friends while you sit on the throne weeping about it. It is inefficient."
He gestured toward the silent Crown Prince. "As for why Xue Qinghe is a vastly superior individual for this specific task, it is because of the immaculate image he has spent years building. He enjoys great, unwavering popularity among the common populace. He is known for hating evil, despising corruption, and supporting the common folk. When he brings the executioner's axe down upon the nobility, the people will cheer for him as a savior. If you do it, they will see it as a paranoid tyrant purging his own court."
Xue Ye seemed to retreat into himself, contemplating the heavy, inescapable logic of the youth's words. He stared at his desk for a long time, the silence stretching taut. Finally, he looked up, his gaze shifting between Zhang Tian and Xue Qinghe.
"Let us say I agree to this transition," Xue Ye began, his voice hoarse. "If you and Qinghe deal with too many of these Noble Families... how will you possibly manage the kingdom? If the noble houses are shattered or imprisoned, only the uneducated common people will be left. In fact, you must know that the vast majority of the skilled officials in the administration of our cities, towns, and provinces are second or third sons of these very noble families. If you start a purge, they might rise up in a massive, coordinated revolt that could cripple the empire's infrastructure."
Zhang Tian smirked openly as he heard this tired, aristocratic argument.
"Let them rise up, for all I care," Zhang Tian replied, his tone laced with chilling indifference. "Those so-called protesters would all be violently thrown out from their comfortable positions anyway. They are a cancer, not a cure."
He leaned forward, his eyes burning with a revolutionary, uncompromising vision. "As for managing this Empire... is it really all that difficult to manage a nation without a parasitic class of blood-sucking Noble Families? You speak as if intelligence is a trait only bred in silk sheets. There are immense, untapped talents among the ordinary people. There are hundreds of millions of citizens comprising the population of the Heaven Dou Empire. Those with appropriate administrative talents, sharp minds, and a genuine desire to improve their homes can easily, rapidly be selected if we simply bother to look properly within each city or town."
Zhang Tian presented his solution. "The only thing we have to do is fundamentally change the criteria of what we are looking for. We stop requiring noble bloodlines for the management of cities, towns, or villages, and we start implementing strict, merit-based examinations. The empire will not collapse; it will finally breathe."
Xue Ye stared at the youth, genuinely confused and deeply unsettled by how confident Zhang Tian was about achieving such a monumental, societal upheaval. This was a sweeping, systemic feat that Xue Ye himself had never, ever been able to accomplish, nor had he ever truly dared to try. It was the very reason the stagnant Gentry Class had successfully filled all the official positions for generations, hoarding the empire's wealth.
As Xue Ye looked into Zhang Tian's unwavering eyes, he suddenly found he had no further questions to ask. A profound, weary realization settled over his aging bones.
He finally understood the true nature of this meeting. This was not a negotiation. This was Zhang Tian graciously trying to give him an elegant, face-saving way of stepping out of the path of a speeding carriage. He was being allowed to voluntarily let his eventual successor take the throne now, rather than Zhang Tian violently dragging the process out or simply removing the Emperor by force.
Xue Ye wanted to chuckle, a bitter, self-deprecating sound rising in his throat. He now somewhat truly understood how the world functioned in the eyes of powerful, apex Spirit Masters like Zhang Tian, who stood as a terrifying Spirit Douluo with the strength of legends. They probably did not hold even a single ounce of awe or reverence for the Imperial Family, their shiny crowns, or their worldly political power.
Xue Ye's gaze drifted to the beautiful woman standing quietly behind Zhang Tian. Ah Yin had not spoken a single word, nor had she flared her aura. But Xue Ye was not a fool; he knew that true monsters rarely needed to bare their fangs. He could feel it in his marrow. He understood that no matter how many of his loyal, hidden royal guards sprang up from the shadows right now, if Zhang Tian simply willed it, no one in this palace could stop this youth or this crimson-haired woman from taking his head.
With a heavy, rattling sigh that seemed to deflate his entire posture, Xue Ye shifted his gaze to Xue Qinghe. He offered a slow, defeated nod.
"Well," Xue Ye murmured, his voice sounding older than it ever had. "This can be considered simply passing on the throne to my son a few years in advance. It is not an entirely bad outcome. I suppose I can now enjoy my twilight retirement years in peace, without harboring any endless worries about the crushing weight of the Empire or the endless, petty bickering of court matters."
Xue Qinghe bowed his head slightly, his expression softening into a look of filial respect. "I will not disappoint you, Father. I will carry the weight so you may rest."
Liam was acting his role flawlessly, making sure to refer to Xue Ye with the appropriate, dutiful reverence as though he really were his true father taking a well-deserved rest.
"It is settled, then," Zhang Tian said, standing up smoothly. Ah Yin moved to his side, her hand slipping gracefully back into the crook of his arm. "Prepare your decrees, Your Majesty. The dawn of a new era approaches."
Without another word, Zhang Tian, Xue Qinghe, and Ah Yin turned and walked out of the study, the heavy oak doors closing softly behind them.
After they left, the silence in the room became suffocating. Emperor Xue Ye sat alone behind his massive desk. He felt as though he had aged more than ten years in the span of a single conversation. He looked down at his trembling hands. This entire encounter could be considered extremely, profoundly humiliating for him as a reigning Emperor. It laid bare the harsh, unforgiving truth of the world: even the grand Emperor of the Heaven Dou Empire was nothing more than a fragile figurehead unless he possessed overwhelming, personal power as a high-level Spirit Master to back up his edicts.
At least, Xue Ye mused bitterly, if he had been a Titled Douluo, Zhang Tian wouldn't have been so incredibly audacious or casually arrogant in front of him.
But despite the humiliation, Xue Ye didn't dare to harbor any thoughts of antagonizing Zhang Tian or plotting a secret revenge. He had a chilling, undeniable premonition that if he had stubbornly refused or called for his guards, he would have been killed immediately, along with every single loyal guard in the wing, without any exception. And the end result would have been exactly the same: the swift, uncontested enthronement of his eldest son, Xue Qinghe, over his fresh corpse. He had chosen life over pride.
A few tense minutes later, a timid knock sounded at the study door.
"Enter," Xue Ye called out wearily.
A pale, trembling maid hurried into the room, falling to her knees before the desk. She kept her head bowed to the floor as she frantically, tearfully informed Emperor Xue Ye about the horrific incident that had just occurred in the eastern hallway.
She recounted the bloody matter of Zhang Tian violently blinding the Fourth Prince, Xue Beng. She detailed how the Marquis had effortlessly pulled both of the prince's eyeballs directly out of his skull, simply because Xue Beng had foolishly stared at the crimson-haired woman with lust for a few seconds.
And the most chilling detail of her report was the timeline. This brutal, open mutilation of a royal prince had happened right before Zhang Tian had casually entered the private study for their discussion.
Xue Ye closed his eyes, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. The sheer, terrifying magnitude of the situation crashed over him.
This gruesome news made Xue Ye even more absolutely sure that he had made the right choice. He had to give up this throne quickly. Tomorrow, even.
After all, the fact that Zhang Tian could brutally blind one of his own sons—and although Xue Ye knew full well that Xue Beng was a trashy, useless playboy, he was still officially a prince of the Heaven Dou Empire—yet no one in the entire crowded hallway had dared to cause a commotion, shout for an arrest, or draw a blade, showed just how terrifyingly great Zhang Tian's influence and presence in the Imperial Palace existed.
No one, not even the fiercely loyal, elite guards of the Imperial Palace, wanted to confront him. They had watched a prince be maimed and had simply looked away in terror.
Was this truly the power of a single, young Spirit Master? Xue Ye thought in despair. Not even an erratic, lethal Titled Douluo like Dugu Bo could make the royal guards so deeply, fundamentally terrified of making a move. Zhang Tian's presence commanded a fear that transcended rank.
"Leave me," Xue Ye whispered to the maid. He pulled a fresh sheet of imperial parchment toward him and picked up his quill, beginning to draft the most important, and final, decree of his reign.
The next day, the atmosphere within the grand, vaulted ceilings of the primary throne room was thick with a buzzing, nervous energy.
The morning court was fully gathered. Hundreds of high-ranking ministers, influential noble family patriarchs, and seasoned military officials were present, standing in their designated ranks upon the polished jade floor.
On the elevated dais to the right, Zhang Tian stood casually, looking entirely relaxed in his dark robes. Ah Yin stood by his side, a vision of untouchable beauty. Standing prominently at the forefront of the royal platform was Xue Qinghe, surrounded by the numerous, powerful members of his political faction as the Crown Prince.
On the opposite side of the hall, the scene was grim. Prince Xue Xing stood with a face like thunder, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Standing slightly behind him was Xue Beng. The Fourth Prince was a pitiful sight, his face wrapped heavily in thick, blood-spotted white bandages covering the empty voids where his eyes used to be. He trembled continuously, leaning heavily on a cane.
Standing near Xue Xing, projecting an aura of lethal, quiet detachment, was Poison Douluo Dugu Bo. The green-haired elder stood with his eyes half-closed, seemingly ignoring the tension in the room. Xue Xing had begged him to be here for support, but Dugu Bo had already made up his mind. He knew exactly what had happened, and he knew exactly who was responsible. He simply stood there, internally mocking the foolishness of the royal uncle, having absolutely no intention of ever crossing the monster who had saved his granddaughter's life.
At the head of the hall, seated upon the grand, golden throne, was Emperor Xue Ye. He looked deeply exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to a sleepless night.
As the morning court officially began, the murmurs died down, only to be instantly replaced by a loud, righteous clamoring.
The first matter was naturally, aggressively raised by Xue Xing's faction, which was the secret political backing for Xue Beng.
Prince Xue Xing stepped forward into the center of the hall, bowing stiffly to his brother.
"Your Majesty!" Xue Xing's voice boomed, thick with righteous indignation, pointing a trembling finger toward the dais where Zhang Tian stood. "I bring before this court a matter of highest treason and unimaginable barbarity! I demand that you, as the Emperor, announce a heavy, crippling punishment for the Marquis of the North, Zhang Tian!"
The hall erupted into a flurry of shocked and nervous whispers. Many nobles nodded in agreement, emboldened by Xue Xing's public stance.
"Look upon your own son, Your Majesty!" Xue Xing shouted, gesturing to the bandaged, whimpering Xue Beng. "This man committed the audacious, unprovoked action of violently blinding the Fourth Prince's eyes within our very halls! This horrific act clearly shows the absolute contempt he holds for the Imperial Prince, for the laws of our land, and for the dignity of the Imperial Family itself! He must be stripped of his titles and brought to justice!"
Xue Xing glared at Dugu Bo, hoping the Titled Douluo would step forward to back his aggressive play with a show of lethal force. But Dugu Bo simply kept his eyes closed, remaining as still as a statue, offering no support whatsoever.
Up on the throne, the loud, demanding shouts gave Xue Ye a profound, throbbing headache. He looked down at his brother, then at his maimed son, and finally at Zhang Tian, who was currently examining his own fingernails with an expression of supreme boredom.
Xue Ye raised a hand, his royal ring catching the morning light. The hall instantly fell silent.
He masterfully dodged the volatile, explosive matter entirely.
"Your grievances are heard, Brother," Xue Ye spoke, his voice echoing clearly across the vast room. "However, the matter of the Fourth Prince's unfortunate... accident... must be shelved for the time being."
Xue Xing's jaw dropped. "Shelved? Your Majesty, he was mutilated!"
"It must be shelved," Xue Ye repeated firmly, his tone brooking no argument, "because I have called this morning court to announce another, far more important matter that concerns the very foundation of this empire."
The Emperor slowly stood up from his golden throne. He looked out over the sea of faces—the corrupt nobles, the loyal generals, and the imposter son who would soon rule them all.
"After decades of bearing the heavy weight of the crown, my health and my spirit have grown weary," Xue Ye declared, his words sending a sudden, chilling shockwave through the gathered assembly. "Effective immediately, I am officially abdicating my throne."
A collective, stunned gasp swept through the throne room. Nobles stared at each other in sheer disbelief. Xue Xing stumbled backward a step, his political maneuverings instantly crashing down around him.
"I am passing the heavy mantle of leadership onto my eldest son, Xue Qinghe," Xue Ye continued, gesturing toward the Crown Prince. "He has worked exceptionally, tirelessly as the Crown Prince, proving his dedication to the people and the stability of our realm. He possesses the vision required for the future."
Xue Ye raised his chin, projecting the last remnants of his imperial authority.
"This is not a matter open for debate or court discussion. This is my final, binding notification," Xue Ye announced, sealing the fate of the nation. "From this very moment on, Xue Qinghe shall assume the full duties as the Regent of the Heaven Dou Empire. And on an auspicious day, chosen by the Ministry of Rites in the coming weeks, he will be formally enthroned as your new, reigning Emperor."
Xue Qinghe stepped forward smoothly, dropping to one knee in a flawless display of royal humility, bowing his head to accept the monumental burden.
Zhang Tian smiled a cold, victorious smile from the sidelines. The bloodless coup was complete. The Heaven Dou Empire now belonged entirely to the shadows of the Spirit Hall, and the true, brutal cleansing of the continent could finally begin.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels [Villain: Manipulating The Heroines Into Hating The Protagonist] and [Harem Master: Seduction System].
Also, check out 20 Chapters Ahead for this fanfic on my P.atreon. [Check Out Art Of Characters On My Patreon. It's Free To View btw.]
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