By morning, the village felt wrong.

The air itself seemed tense, as if at any moment a neighbor might turn on neighbor, blade against blade.

Hu Renxuan sat in a private chamber with General Zhang Xuanming, Hu Junlie, and Hu Lihua. The words he was about to speak would reshape the fate of Ihuoin Mechu forever.

Leaning back in his chair, Renxuan studied their faces one by one. Anticipation flickered behind his eyes; he was savoring what came next. “With public opinion turning sharply against the Zhao family,” he began calmly, “and support for us rising, I’ve decided to take a gamble.” He smiled.

“I’m going to attempt a coup.”

His father shot to his feet. “Renxuan! Have you lost your mind?!”

Renxuan’s smile widened. “Perhaps, Father. But is that such a terrible thing? We’ve spent too long being cautious. Now, when the moment is finally perfect, you want to sit idle? I won’t. Unlike you, I seize opportunities.”

“This is not the time to repeat your past mistakes,” Renxuan said.

Before Junlie could respond, Xuanming cut off from the shadows.

“The heads of the other families have already been contacted. They support him fully. Even within the army, loyalties have shifted. Today could be the day the Zhao family falls.” Xuanming said.

Junlie’s gaze snapped to Xuanming, sharp and full of venom.

“Silence, you devil. Don’t think I’m blind to what you’re truly after.”

“Enough,” Renxuan said coldly. “This plan moves forward, with or without your blessing. Kai and Weilong Zhao may be powerful, but against the combined strength of the village’s finest soldiers, along with Xuanming and myself, they don’t stand a chance.”

Junlie exhaled slowly, then turned and stormed toward the door. As he passed Xuanming, he paused.

“What goes around comes around, Xuanming,” he said quietly. “The evils of this world always fall before the fist of justice.”

The door slammed shut.

Renxuan sighed. “Ignore him. He’s a good man, but he overestimates the competition. The same mistake that cost him every encounter with Kai Zhao.”

Xuanming inclined his head.

Lihua leaned lazily against the wall, inspecting her nails.

“So, brother, when does all this chaos begin? I’d love to help, but I’m not thrilled about staining my beautiful skin with blood. Especially Zhao blood.”

Renxuan smirked. “Not even Liang Zhao’s?”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I might make an exception.”

“Good.” Renxuan straightened. “Once the sun sets. Darkness gives us the advantage. The guards loyal to us inside the palace will turn on their allies and open the gates. By then, Kai Zhao will be alerted, so we move fast. Weilong Zhao will be our greatest threat, along with their generals, but Xuanming will handle that.”

Xuanming nodded. “I’ll begin preparations immediately, Young Lord.”

“You should prepare as well, sister,” Renxuan added. “This won’t be easy.”

Renxuan left the chamber, his thoughts burning with visions of a crown. The rest of the day passed in a blur of whispered promises and fiery speeches as he stirred the noble families into action. He met in secret with soldiers who had abandoned their post, now ready to aid who they believed would be their new king to obtain his crown.

In the general's dojo, the remaining generals trained, staying ready for anything…

General Huo and General Dazheng were locked in a competitive spar like usual, while General Shiming and General Siyuan played chess.

“I suspect a storm is brewing in this village,” Shiming said calmly. Siyuan moved a piece forward, “I fear you’re right like usual. After that last stunt by Hu Renxuan, Kai Zhao’s claim to the throne might be over. But I don’t think that’s all he plans to do…”

“What are you suggesting Siyuan? A coup?” Leng asked. 

“Potentially.” 

“The people are against the Emperor, and it’s not like a coup is an uncommon thing in this village. After all, that is how the previous emperor, Kai Zhao's father took the throne. The irony in that would be a laugh.”

A stray fireball from Huo knocked over the table, setting it ablaze.

“What’s your problem Huo?! Keep the fighting over there,” Siyuan yelled toward General Huo. Huo, who was still mid-fight with Dazheng, looked Siyuan's way while still fighting off Dazheng, “everywhere in this dojo is a place to fight Siyuan. Your fault for bringing a chess board into the dojo.”

Siyuan adjusted his glasses angrily, “whatever. Break time is over everyone! To your posts now.” Siyuan shouted to the generals in the dojo.

He stopped everyone as they were walking out the door, “Oh, and guys,” Siyuan said, giving them a serious look, “watch yourselves tonight. I have a feeling it’s going to be one of those days.”

Back in the Hu estate, Renxuan sat in the armory…

At sunset, as he sharpened his most trusted blade, The Mad Tiger, his father appeared in the armory.

“Have you come to dissuade me?” Renxuan asked without looking up. “Because nothing you say will change my mind.”

Junlie shook his head. “I only have one question.”

He stepped closer.

“Are you doing this for the family… or for yourself?”

Renxuan finally met his gaze.

“I’m doing this for you. I watched you hunger for greatness once, only to lose again and again to a man who never deserved it. Each failure stole your fire. If I succeed, we become royalty. Our family earns the respect it deserves.”

His voice softened.

“You earn the respect you deserve.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Junlie pulled his son into an embrace.

“I am old now,” he said quietly. “My fighting days are behind me. I can’t stand beside you tonight.” He pulled back, placing a firm hand on Renxuan’s shoulder.

“But I believe in you. I admire your drive. Just… protect yourself.”

Renxuan clenched his fist. “I will. And when this is over, it will be you on that throne, not some lazy fool.”

Junlie left without another word.

Night fell.

Under the moon’s pale glow, Renxuan stood at the head of a surging crowd marching toward the palace gates. Torches flickered. Blades gleamed. Every face burned with purpose.

Then, the bells rang.

A fight had broken out in the palace courtyard.

The palace gates suddenly burst open. A guard waved frantically.

“Hurry!”

Inside was chaos.

Soldiers clashed in the courtyard, army warriors battling palace guards who had betrayed the Emperor. Mages unleashed torrents of flame, setting the entrance ablaze. Former allies screamed curses at one another, blades pressed to familiar throats.

Renxuan seized Lihua’s arm and pointed toward the palace steps.

“We have to reach the upper hall now!”

They sprinted—

And suddenly pain ripped through them.

Their muscles seized. Electricity tore through their bodies. Both collapsed, gasping. “What–what is this?” Lihua groaned.

“Electricity,” a voice echoed from above.

“I’ve sent a current through your nervous system, locking your muscles in place. I’m afraid you won’t be entering the palace tonight, Hu Renxuan.”

Renxuan looked up. General Wen Siyuan stood above them, lightning crackling in his palm.

Renxuan laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Siyuan gave him a puzzled look.

A portal tore open behind him, and a blade flew through the air embedding itself into Siyuan’s shoulder. Siyuan turned, and there he was.

From the portal stepped Xuanming smiling menacingly. He kicked Siyuan right in the chest, sending him flying down the steps and into the battlefield.

Renxuan and Lihua struggled to their feet.

“Took you long enough,” Renxuan grinned. “I was starting to think you’d gotten cold feet.”

“Cold feet?” Xuanming replied calmly. “Never.”

Lihua wiped blood from her sleeve, scowling.

“Will you two kiss already? I’ve got some random man’s blood on me, and I’m in a terrible mood. Let’s go kill those fake royals.”

The coup was unfolding perfectly.

But none of them knew—

An uninvited guest was about to arrive.

And they hadn’t come for fun.