The faint glow of dawn filtered through the heavy smoke that still hung in the air from the night's battle. Demon beast corpses littered the base of the mountain fortress, but the Wang Clan's losses were no less severe. Exhausted warriors dragged themselves away from the walls, their faces pale and drawn. The night had been a bitter victory—if it could be called that at all.
Wang Hao stood in the shadows, observing the scene. He had fought briefly, striking down a few minor beasts to maintain his image as a capable young warrior, but his true battle was far from the bloodied battleground. His war was one of words, whispers, and deception. And it had already begun.
From his vantage point, Wang Hao silently watched the figures who would play critical roles in the days to come. At the forefront was his father, the patriarch, a man once known for his strength but now weighed down by the burden of leadership. His once-sharp eyes were dulled by indecision, constantly darting between the walls, the warriors, and the huddled elders. He barked orders, but they lacked the firm command they once carried. His father's primary flaw had always been his inability to act decisively in moments of crisis. That hesitation would be fatal.
Next, Wang Hao's eyes settled on General Fang, the man leading the defense. He was a mountain of a figure, his armor splattered with the blood of demon beasts, his booming voice still commanding the soldiers under his charge. In his past life, Wang Hao had admired the general's raw strength and leadership. But now, with the clarity of hindsight, he saw the man's weakness—his pride. Fang was headstrong, a warrior who believed in brute force over strategy, and Wang Hao knew that would be his downfall.
The elders were a different story. Clad in fine robes, they stayed far from the front lines, their eyes cold and calculating. These men controlled the clan's resources—supplies, wealth, and information. In his past life, they had been content to let the patriarch and his warriors handle the beast threat, while they schemed in the background for more power. They had no interest in the defense of the clan unless it threatened their personal fortunes.
Wang Hao had been blind to all of this before, trusting in his father and the clan's leadership. But now, he could see the fractures in the foundation. The patriarch's indecision, the general's pride, and the elders' greed—these were weaknesses, and they were Wang Hao's keys to seizing power.
Wang Hao took a slow breath, considering his next move. The clan's defense was weak, but it wouldn't collapse on its own. No, Wang Hao needed to give it a little push, just enough to tilt the balance of power in his favor. And he knew exactly where to start.
In his past life, General Fang had eventually turned against the patriarch. It had been a slow, creeping betrayal, born of frustration and paranoia. The general had believed the patriarch lacked trust in him, and that insecurity had festered until it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Fang had defected to a rival clan, leaving the Wang Clan defenseless at a crucial moment. By then, it had been too late to stop the clan's fall.
This time, Wang Hao would use that same distrust to his advantage—only much earlier.
His first target was the bond between his father and the general. The two men had been allies for decades, but Wang Hao knew how fragile that alliance truly was. Fang had always harbored resentment over the fact that, despite his loyalty, the patriarch never fully trusted him with the clan's most critical resources. The patriarch, in turn, had always kept Fang at arm's length, afraid of the man's ambition.
Wang Hao smiled to himself. It was perfect. All he had to do was make that existing distrust bloom into full-blown suspicion.
Wang Hao made his way to the outer courtyard, where the clan's warriors were regrouping after the night's battle. He spotted General Fang standing by a cluster of his most trusted men, his massive form dominating the space. Wang Hao's approach was careful, measured. He wasn't yet in a position to directly confront someone like Fang. Instead, he would begin with something subtle—just enough to plant the first seeds.
As he neared the general, Wang Hao adopted a concerned expression, his voice low as he spoke. "General Fang, I'm glad to see you unharmed. The defense last night was nothing short of a miracle. The clan would be lost without you."
Fang glanced down at him, a grunt escaping his lips. "A miracle? No. We held the line, but just barely. We won't survive another night like that."
Wang Hao nodded, his tone grave. "That's what worries me, General. I've heard… troubling things among the elders. They're saying that the patriarch is considering withholding more resources. He fears overcommitting to the defense, thinking that we should conserve supplies in case the siege lasts longer than expected."
Fang's brow furrowed, his expression darkening. "Conserve? The beasts are at our gates, and he wants to conserve?"
Wang Hao lowered his voice even further, feigning hesitation. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but some of the elders think the patriarch doesn't fully trust the decisions you're making on the battlefield. They've suggested that he… reconsider your command. They fear that you might take too much power if the clan survives."
The general's face twisted in anger. "Reconsider my command? After everything I've done for this clan?"
Wang Hao put on a sympathetic look. "I don't believe it, of course. But the elders are powerful, and if they start influencing my father… Well, I just wanted you to be aware of what's being said. I trust you completely, General, but I thought you deserved to know."
Fang's hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. "I'll handle the beasts at the walls. But if your father and his precious elders start undermining me, I'll have words with them. This clan wouldn't survive a week without my leadership."
Wang Hao gave a respectful nod, stepping back. "Of course, General. I'm sure my father will see reason."
But as he walked away, Wang Hao allowed himself a small smile. The general's pride had always been his greatest weakness. Now, that pride was a weapon, one that Wang Hao would wield with precision. The first seed had been planted.
Later that day, Wang Hao made his way to his father's study. The patriarch sat behind a wide wooden desk, his face etched with worry. Reports and scrolls were scattered before him, detailing the clan's dwindling resources and the growing number of casualties. His eyes flicked up as Wang Hao entered, but there was little warmth in them.
"Wang Hao," his father greeted him. "I'm glad to see you. It's been a difficult day."
"I've heard," Wang Hao replied, his tone careful. "I wanted to speak to you about General Fang."
The patriarch sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Fang has been… difficult to manage lately. He's pushing for more control over the defense, demanding more resources than we can afford to give. I understand his frustration, but we must think about the long term. The siege could last weeks, and we can't afford to exhaust everything on the first few days."
Wang Hao nodded, his expression sympathetic. "I understand, Father. But you know how the general is—he doesn't respond well to restraint. If he begins to feel that his authority is being questioned, he might act rashly."
The patriarch frowned. "You're saying I should give in to his demands?"
"Not at all," Wang Hao said quickly. "But perhaps… we need to be more cautious in how we approach him. We can't afford to lose his support, not now. If he feels slighted, he might make decisions that could put the clan in even more danger."
The patriarch's eyes darkened, his hand rubbing his temples. "I'll think on it."
Wang Hao nodded, hiding his satisfaction. The first cracks had appeared. Soon, he would widen them, and the entire structure of the clan's leadership would begin to crumble—right into his hands.