A storm of confusion and shock raged within Long Su's mind as he struggled to process the improbable scene unfolding before him.
The silent army of skeleton soldiers, seemingly content to follow his every command without question, had suddenly been disrupted by the voice of one who dared to speak.
But what truly threw Long Su's mind into turmoil was the fact that this soldier had referred to him not as their commander but as "Fu Su," the name he had carried in a past life, a name that should have been lost to the winds of time.
Amidst the swirling chaos of his thoughts, a small spark of inexplicable happiness began to kindle, its warmth pushing back against the shadows of uncertainty.
Yet, even as this strange sense of elation took root within him, Long Su knew he could not afford to lose himself in the moment.
With a deep breath, he drew upon every ounce of resolve he possessed, forcing the storm within to subside as a sense of calm descended upon him.
With a voice that echoed through the palace square, commanding and powerful,
Long Su addressed the soldiers:
"You who have dared to break the silence, who have spoken words unasked for, step forward and stand before me."
As the final echoes of his words faded, Long Su fixed his gaze upon the assembled ranks of skeletal warriors, his expression a mask of stoic determination.
Despite the confusion and intrigue that still lingered within him, he held fast to his duty as their leader, knowing that maintaining control and understanding the reason behind this strange turn of events were of the utmost importance.
As the silent tableau held, a single figure stirred among the ranks, stepping forward with a measured and deliberate gait.
began to make its way down the hundreds of worn steps leading from the palace square. Each step echoed through the stillness of the morning air
As the soldier approached, Long Su found himself studying the figure with renewed interest, searching for any clues that might shed light on the mystery that had so abruptly presented itself.
For the first time since claiming dominion over these undead legions, he was faced with a being that, while still very much a creature of bone and armor, possessed a spark of individuality that set it apart from its mute comrades.
And as their eyes met, Long Su knew that the secrets this soldier held would be vital in unraveling the enigma that now hung heavy in the air.
Zhang Han, the once-famed general of a fallen empire, stood before Long Su with a weary resignation in his posture.
As he moved to stand at attention, his skeletal frame seemed to reflect the burden of his past failures, each bleached bone a testament to the weight of his guilt.
With a solemnity befitting a man who had witnessed the dissolution of a dynasty, he lowered himself to his knees, his empty sockets trained upon Long Su with an intensity that spoke volumes of the regret buried within.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice heavy with the memory of a thousand battles fought and lost.
"I am Zhang Han, your humble and shamefully ineffective servant. Though my loyalty to the great Qin Dynasty has never wavered, I have failed in my duties as a general, unable to prevent its fall into the hands of tTraitors and thefts"
As he spoke, the weight of his despair seemed to hang in the air, an almost palpable force that bore down upon the assembled soldiers.
His voice, barely more than a rasping whisper, carried with it a deep sense of remorse, an unspoken acknowledgment of the sins he believed himself to have committed.
"I beg of you, Your Majesty the oldest son, to grant me forgiveness for my failings," he continued, the words dragging from the depths of his being.
"Though I am but a shadow of the man I once was, my devotion to the Qin Dynasty remains as steadfast as ever. Should you deem it fit, I am prepared to accept any punishment you decree, for my loyalty is unwavering."
In the hollow of his gaze, there lingered an unflinching determination, a resolve to bear the consequences of his actions.
As he kneeled before Long Su, Zhang Han's regret was etched into every line of his posture, a testament to the guilt he carried for his perceived failure to protect the empire he had once called home.
As Long Su stood before the kneeling form of Zhang Han, his mind was flooded with a torrent of memories and knowledge, courtesy of Fu Su's experiences.
In the grand tapestry of Qin history that unfolded before him, he recalled with vivid clarity the man who had once been a stalwart pillar of the dynasty's military might.
Zhang Han, as Long Su knew, had initially served as a personal bodyguard to the First Emperor, Qin Shi Huang.
Even in this esteemed position, he was privy to the inner workings of the imperial court and the schemes that ran rampant within its gilded halls.
Yet, despite the prestige and honor associated with his role, Zhang Han had been a man of unwavering loyalty, willing to lay down his life for the Emperor without hesitation.
However, the Zhang Han before him had gone on to hold various military positions and shoulder the immense responsibility of commanding armies and devising strategies, but he never got the general position.
With the help of the Meng family, a clan renowned for their wisdom and insight, they had been instrumental in documenting and preserving the knowledge of these momentous undertakings.
so even he, who was supervisor of the building of the Great Wall, knew almost everything that happened inside the empire.
As the fragmented memories coalesced into a cohesive narrative, Long Su found himself grappling with the incongruities that lay before him.
How could it be that the Zhang Han he knew, a man who had been intimately acquainted with the First Emperor and was a key player in shaping the Dynasty's destiny
Now he calls himself a sinner general and asks for forgiveness. What happened to the Qin Dynasty after his suicide was a dark history for him.