This day was a calamity for Eastlyn. Not only did disaster strike at Sutton Manor, but a major incident at the city gate threw all entry and exit into chaos.
No one knew where the siege wagons came from—they suddenly appeared outside the city gate, ramming the walls and crushing civilians beneath their wheels. In an instant, countless innocents were slaughtered, and the gate guards were ground to bone and dust.
Blood ran like rivers at the city gate, chaos everywhere. Screams and cries tangled together as people waiting to enter the city bolted in terror, only to be hunted down by the siege wagons. Those who tried to retreat found their way blocked—at this moment, death seemed the only fate.
The Imperial Guards rushed to intervene, but for now, they couldn’t reach the siege wagons. All they could do was try to contain the panic and guide the crowds, desperate to prevent more innocent deaths.
The siege wagons outside the city weren’t large, but their destructive power rivaled the war machines of the Night City battlefield. The Imperial Guards had only heard rumors of such weapons, never faced them in combat—now, confronted with these engines of death, all they could do was flounder in confusion.
Unable to break through, the front-line soldiers fell like wheat. The City Defense General and Commander of the Nine Gates saw the catastrophe and dared not hide it—they sent urgent word to the palace, pleading with the Emperor for reinforcements.
At the Imperial Temple, Ghost Hall’s assault was relentless. The shadow guards and palace attendants struggled to hold their ground, fearing for the Grand Empress Dowager, Empress Dowager Xie, and the others. Desperate, they fired signal flares, begging the palace for help.
Yet at this hour, every person with the power to command was trapped inside the throne hall—none could get out, and none could send reinforcements.
Felix Fuller had underestimated everything. As the Taishang Emperor’s chief confidant, he hadn’t even realized the old emperor could stand and speak—so when the Taishang Emperor struck, they were caught utterly off guard.
At morning court, the Taishang Emperor appeared without warning and seized control of the Forbidden Palace.
The Taishang Emperor had secretly summoned a private force and surrounded the Forbidden Palace. He replaced the Imperial Guard commander in an instant, and the men below only followed orders, not knowing the truth. William Wang Jinling and the other officials were trapped inside, and no one outside could get in.
The Taishang Emperor launched his coup to reclaim the throne, demanding that every civil and military official recognize him as emperor once more.
Ignoring the shock of the court, the Taishang Emperor strode to the dais, ordered the child emperor carried away, and sat himself on the dragon throne—waiting for the officials to kneel before him.
William Wang Jinling led the officials in open defiance, seizing the initiative before the Taishang Emperor could speak. He called out loudly, "The Taishang Emperor is gravely ill and confused—attendants, escort His Majesty back to the palace!"
William Wang Jinling’s words were outright rebellion, but he had no choice. If the Taishang Emperor returned to the throne, the Wang Clan was doomed. Prince of Jiangnan, Prince Colin, even Prince Jason could claim the crown—but the Taishang Emperor could not.
The palace guards outside the hall were all loyal to Ninth Royal Uncle. At William Wang Jinling’s command, they stormed in, saluting respectfully, but prepared to drag the Taishang Emperor away by force.
Just as the guards rushed forward, an unassuming old eunuch at the Taishang Emperor’s side stepped out. With a single move, he knocked the charging guards off the dais.
William Wang Jinling frowned. In the imperial palace, where ritual supposedly reigned, brute strength still decided everything. Today, it seemed, there would be no peaceful resolution.
The Taishang Emperor snorted and sat unmoving on the dragon throne. His once-dim eyes now shone sharp and lethal.
His gaze swept the court and landed on William Wang Jinling, mocking. "It seems Lord Wang’s eye disease hasn’t healed. I should summon the imperial physician to treat you properly."
"My eye disease has long since healed. The Taishang Emperor is advanced in age and confused in mind—I respectfully urge His Majesty to return to the palace and recuperate." William Wang Jinling stood unmoved, eyes wide open, lying through his teeth, treating the Taishang Emperor’s anger as nothing.
"Insolent!" the Taishang Emperor roared. In the past, that word alone would have sent the whole court to their knees. But today, not a soul moved. A few timid officials broke into cold sweats, legs trembling, wanting to kneel but not daring.
How unlucky to be a minister right now—choosing sides today could mean disaster.
But in a moment like this, how could anyone possibly choose a side?
Ninth Royal Uncle was off at the Imperial Mausoleum—distant water couldn’t put out a nearby fire. And now, the Taishang Emperor, diagnosed by the Imperial Physician as paralyzed and bedridden, had suddenly stood up, brought a master fighter, and strode into court full of vigor. It was enough to scare them all to death.
The civil and military officials wore faces like mourners, each secretly regretting not calling in sick today. Attending morning court on a day like this was practically asking for death.
The old ministers cursed their luck, but having been singled out, they had no choice but to respond. Shaking, they knelt and pleaded, "We are terrified, Your Majesty. There cannot be two suns in the sky, nor two sovereigns in a kingdom. We beg the Taishang Emperor to reconsider."
What they really wanted to say was: Taishang Emperor, please spare us. However you royal brothers and fathers fight, it’s none of our business—just don’t drag us into it. We only wish to serve faithfully, not chase the dubious glory of following the dragon.
"So, no two suns in the sky, no two rulers in a kingdom? I abdicated to the Crown Prince because of illness. Now I am recovered, and the Crown Prince is but a child—what’s wrong with me reclaiming the throne?" With one light sentence, the Taishang Emperor dismissed the child emperor’s legitimacy, referring to him only as 'the prince.'
"Your Majesty, spilt water cannot be gathered," William Wang Jinling replied, still smiling, utterly unshaken by the Taishang Emperor’s pressure.
At this moment, he could not retreat even half a step. One step back, and it would mean utter ruin.
"Is that what you all think as well?" The Taishang Emperor’s gaze sharpened as it swept over the officials. Their legs gave out, and with a thud, the whole court knelt. Yet even as they kowtowed, none dared to openly support his restoration.
If they recognize the Taishang Emperor’s return now, what if Ninth Royal Uncle storms back later—what then?
But if they refuse, and the Taishang Emperor succeeds in reclaiming the throne, what punishment awaits them then?
Heavens above, earth below—this was simply deadly.
The civil and military officials wore faces like mourners, each secretly regretting not calling in sick today. Attending morning court on a day like this was practically asking for death.
With the entire court prostrated at his feet, the Taishang Emperor felt the intoxicating rush of ruling over the world, of holding the power of life and death. His aura only grew stronger.
So when he saw three figures standing tall in the hall—unmistakably visible—the Taishang Emperor’s displeasure spiked. And when his gaze landed on Felix Fuller, it reached its peak.
"Lord Fuller, do you also believe I am ill?" The Taishang Emperor bit down hard on the word "ill," and his question made every official look up. Seeing the scene, they were utterly stunned...
In the center of the grand hall, only William Wang Jinling, Felix Fuller, and General Warren Yu remained standing. The officials could understand William and General Warren refusing to kneel—but Lord Fuller?
Why wasn’t Lord Fuller kneeling?
The Taishang Emperor’s faction felt a chill when they saw Felix Fuller standing tall before the throne. Was the Taishang Emperor’s power already spent, and was this his last desperate struggle? Otherwise, why would his own confidant, Lord Fuller, openly oppose him at such a critical moment?
The officials kneeling on the floor felt their backs involuntarily straighten, hesitating—should they stand up too? They were hardly alone in that thought.