Chapter: The Empress
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the long, silent hallway, each step weighed down by the tension that thickened the air. This hall was a place steeped in the essence of blood and sweat a testament to the many battles fought, the sacrifices made. The walls were lined with portraits of honored soldiers, their stern gazes watching him as he passed. It always felt eerie here, like the very walls held the memories of pain and discipline.
At the end of the hall, the massive doors loomed before him. He pushed them open slowly, the heavy wood groaning under the weight of its own history. As the doors parted, the scene beyond greeted himb his mother, the Empress, sitting beneath the shade of the pavilion.
Wei Yù sat with regal poise, her body draped in the finest robes, rich fabrics of red and gold that shimmered under the sunlight. Her neck, wrists, and fingers glittered with ornate jewelry, a reflection of her status. Despite her beauty, there was an undeniable fragility in her appearance now a shadow of the weakness that had begun to plague her. But it only seemed to magnify her terrifying presence, making the tension around her almost suffocating.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to approach. His steps were slow, cautious, as if any sudden movement might provoke her. When he was finally close enough, he bowed low, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Your Highness, Huánghòu Wei Yù, greetings to you," he murmured, his voice quiet and respectful.
But before he could lift his head, a sharp, stinging pain erupted across his left cheek. The force of the slap was swift, brutal. He gasped, barely able to process it before another blow struck him, and then another. His cheek burned with the impact, but he remained silent, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.
"How can you be so useless and incompetent at the same time?" his mother's voice cut through the air, dripping with venom. The rage in her eyes was unmistakable. "Do you even realize how late you are? How dare you disrespect me in such a way?"
He kept his head bowed, his face stinging with each word. I knew this was coming, he thought bitterly, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
"Don't you dare repeat this behavior again," she hissed, her voice rising in fury. "If you want to prove yourself a deserving bastard, then you must become perfect. You have no room for error. No room for weakness."
Each word was like a lash across his skin, her contempt and disgust palpable. His breath caught in his throat, but he remained still, fighting the urge to defend himself. Defend myself? What good would that do? She's never going to see me any other way.
The weight of her expectations hung over him like a shroud unattainable, suffocating. He clenched his jaw, the pain in his cheek a dull throb now, but the pain in his heart was sharper. Perfect? he thought, the word echoing in his mind. How can I be perfect when I am already broken in your eyes?
Finally, he dared to raise his head slightly, keeping his eyes lowered to avoid meeting her gaze directly. His cheek burned, but he forced himself to speak. "I... I will not fail you again, Your Highness."
The words felt hollow in his mouth, but he knew they were what she wanted to hear. Anything less, and her fury would only grow.
He hated his birthday. To be quite frank, the day felt more like a curse than a celebration. With each passing year, his birthday marked an increase in the difficulty of his training a grueling tradition that began when he was a child. As he grew older, the trials grew harsher, pushing him beyond the limits of his body and mind. The first day of this "new" training was always the worst, a reminder that his strength was never enough.
Today was no different.
He dressed in his training robes, the dark fabric loose and designed to allow freedom of movement. His mind was already focused on the day's lesson: core control and the cultivation of his martial power. This day would be dedicated to refining his connection to the energies within the very foundation of his strength and the key to unlocking his true potential.
As he stepped into the training grounds, he found himself face-to-face with six cultivation masters. They were imposing figures, each hailing from different nations, their powers representing various elemental forces. Four of them controlled the core elements: fire, water, earth, and wind, their presence like living embodiments of nature's wrath and serenity. The remaining two were masters of the rarest and most dangerous forces ,light and darkness, the balance between creation and destruction.
They're here to break me, he thought grimly, his heart already sinking.
The masters stood in a silent line, their gazes piercing as they watched him approach. Each of them carried an aura of power that made the air around them feel thick, suffocating. His body tensed, every muscle preparing for the intense challenge ahead.
"Begin," the lead master commanded, his voice low and authoritative, and the air around them shifted immediately.
The ground beneath him seemed to pulse with energy, a mixture of all the elements swirling through the atmosphere. He focused inward, steadying his breath as he began to summon his core energy, feeling the familiar warmth of his dantian the center of his power. But today was no ordinary session. The masters didn't just guide him; they attacked him, their combined forces bearing down on him relentlessly.
The master of fire was first, his flames roaring to life like an inferno, heat radiating toward him in waves. He dodged swiftly, using his internal energy to deflect the burning assault, but the next master, controlling water, followed immediately with a torrent of liquid force, slamming against his defenses.
His muscles strained as he maintained his balance, his mind sharp, calculating every movement. But it was never just about evasion he was expected to master the elements, to manipulate them as they came at him. The earth master summoned jagged spikes from the ground, forcing him to leap and twist in midair, while the wind master sent slicing gusts that tried to cut him down.
Every attack was a test of his endurance, his focus, and his ability to harmonize with the elemental energies around him. And yet, even as he fought to hold his ground, the masters of light and darkness stood at a distance, watching, waiting. They were the most dangerous.
When the time came, they moved with terrifying precision. The light master's strikes were blinding, each beam of energy piercing through his defenses, forcing him to concentrate harder than ever to avoid them. The dark master was the opposite his power was a suffocating void, a blackness that threatened to consume everything it touched. It was like fighting the embodiment of night itself, and every time he felt his energy weaken, the darkness seemed to close in.
For hours, he endured. His robes clung to his body, soaked in sweat. His skin was bruised, his muscles screaming in agony, but he couldn't stop. Not until they were satisfied. His hands trembled as he summoned the last remnants of his strength, focusing all his martial power to drive away the darkness, to shield himself from the blinding light.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the assault ended.
He collapsed to the ground, his breath ragged, his body battered and covered in fresh bruises. A few cuts had opened up, thin lines of blood tracing down his arms and legs. The training had left its mark, as it always did. The pain was familiar, a reminder of his never-ending struggle to be more, to be stronger.
But before he could gather himself, his mother's voice sliced through the air, cold and sharp as a blade.
"Well, what do I see? More mistakes. More incompetence," Huánghòu Wei Yù sneered from where she sat, her eyes narrowing in disdain. "Can't you do anything correctly? How pathetic. You useless, incompetent bastard."
Her words stabbed deeper than any blow he had received today. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to stand. It's never enough, he thought bitterly. No matter how hard I train, no matter how much I endure I'm never enough.
He didn't dare look at her. He knew if he did, he would see the disgust in her eyes, the disappointment she never hesitated to show. His heart ached, but he buried it deep. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him broken.
"I will try harder," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and controlled, though his body screamed in pain. He bowed low, as expected, keeping his head down.
I won't let her break me, he vowed silently. Not today. Not ever.
The masters, standing behind him, gave no reaction. Their expressions remained impassive, as if none of what had just transpired mattered. To them, it was all part of the process, part of the path to cultivation. Only he felt the weight of his mother's scorn.
As he walked away, bruised and weary, the words still echoed in his mind. He knew that today was only the beginning. Tomorrow would be worse.