In the capital of the Chen state, the city was alive with festivities, banners fluttering in the wind, drums beating a relentless rhythm. The lord of Chen, Chen Guoguo himself, sat at the center of a massive hall, surrounded by ministers, generals, and officials of considerable rank. They had gathered to celebrate a triumph so great, it seemed the earth itself had bent to Chen's will.
"Congratulations, Lord of the State," a eunuch intoned, bowing low, voice syrupy with flattery, "for successfully destroying the Tang Kingdom. Henceforth, this land shall honor and obey your rule."
Chen Guoguo chuckled, the sound low, triumphant, almost casual. "Hah, the Tang Kingdom? A kingdom so fragile… without a world item, taking them down would have been like swatting flies. A trivial task. Easier than drinking water," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. Pride radiated from him. And why shouldn't it? Tang, a once-mighty neighboring state, now lay in ruins, its territory—stretching across hundreds of thousands of miles—claimed by Chen. A kingdom dissolved into nothing, and his strength had, in an instant, doubled.
It wouldn't be long, he thought, before he ruled unchallenged, his name feared and revered across the land. The title of invincible overlord was within reach, the kind of title spoken of in whispers, or in panic-stricken curses.
"Is it not remarkable?" a general spoke up, admiration, awe, and a hint of fear in his tone. "The Gravity Ball… the world item under Chen Guo's control… just as it unfolded, it increased gravity tenfold. Tang soldiers, trapped under its pull, could barely lift a foot. Helpless. In the end… surrender was all they could do."
A quiet murmur of agreement spread across the room. Truly, world items were more than mere tools—they were forces that defied the natural order. In mortal hands, even the mightiest armies became fragile, insignificant.
"Even a legion of millions could not hope to match the power of a world item," the general continued. "Take the Gravity Ball, for example. It can summon a gravitational force from nothing, crushing anything in its sphere. Soldiers immobilized, unable to fight, swept aside as if they were nothing. Whole battalions rendered useless in an instant."
With the Gravity Ball in his grasp, Chen Guoguo's army swept across Tang lands like a wildfire, burning, slaughtering, and plundering relentlessly. Cities fell one by one. Within months, the once-proud capital of Tang lay conquered, the territory claimed entirely by Chen. One might say it was not merely conquest—it was annihilation, a rewriting of history. And here, only other world items could compete with such devastation. Mortals… mere mortals… were helpless, powerless against such an instrument of destruction.
Chen Guoguo leaned back in his chair, letting the words sink in, a satisfied glint in his eye. "And yet…" he muttered, voice dropping slightly, "what of that useless prince? The heir of Tang… Li Xiao… where has he gone? Was he caught?"
This mattered most of all. Capture the prince, and the remnants of Tang would crumble, knowing their leader had fallen. Without him, resistance would be meaningless—a hollow gesture. Control over Tang's lands, its people, its wealth… all hinged on this single point.
"Report, my lord," a general stepped forward, bowing low. His expression was grim, his tone heavy. "I bring… unfortunate news."
Chen Guoguo's brow furrowed. "Unfortunate?" His voice, calm yet sharp, betrayed the slightest tremor of tension. "Explain."
"The general, Fei Ying, tasked with pursuing Prince Li Xiao, has returned with a report. The pursuit… failed. Entirely. One hundred thousand soldiers… wiped out. Lost." The words hung in the air like a curse.
The Chen court was silent for a heartbeat, disbelief rippling across the assembled officials. "Flying eagle message," the general clarified. "A special method… rapid, nearly instantaneous communication. For a distance of three thousand kilometers, only three breaths are needed. Yet… this is rare, reserved only for matters of great importance."
"What?" Chen Guoguo's hand tightened around his goblet. Rage flared in his chest, dark and hot. "Chasing down remnants, defeated soldiers… and still, one hundred thousand troops are lost? How? How is this possible?" His voice rose, echoing in the great hall. "One hundred thousand men! Do you know what that means? Even our full attack on Tang yielded fewer losses. And now, in a mere chase… vanished? What did those… those remnants consume to grow so formidable?!"
The general's gaze was steady, almost somber. "There is a reason, my lord. Prince Li Xiao fled… to the vicinity of the Forbidden Land of the Gods. Unexpected… an ancient god appeared from the forbidden land. Our army, one hundred thousand strong, was powerless before such a force. Only a few escaped… scattered, lucky to survive."
Gasps swept through the hall. "The… forbidden land of the gods?" murmured one minister, voice trembling. "Legends speak of it as a cursed place, where gods fell… none survive the journey. And yet…"
Time had long eroded fear. The forbidden land, once feared, had faded into myth. Stories of gods there were considered fables, tales to frighten children. Yet, the general's words painted a reality far darker, far more immediate. An ancient god, untouched by time, emerging now—this was not story, not legend. This was calamity.
"Tell me… is this true?" a senior official demanded, eyes wide, heart pounding.
"My lord," the general said, voice steady, "I swear by my most trusted confidant. Truth is not twisted here. Even if this is not the ancient god, the force before us… it is beyond imagination. Unfathomable. One hundred thousand soldiers… utterly powerless. The prince… escapes."
Chen Guoguo's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint replacing the earlier amusement. The room held its breath. All recognized the stakes. If an ancient god truly emerged from the forbidden land, the Chen state, so recently emboldened by victory, faced a threat far beyond mortal comprehension.
Yet, Chen Guoguo's expression shifted. A slow, deliberate smile spread across his face, dark as the void. "Ha," he said, voice low, dangerous. "An ancient god? Very well. Let us see, then, if the gods of legend… are truly as mighty as they are said to be."
The court froze. Some hearts faltered, some whispered prayers under their breath. But Chen Guoguo, the conqueror, the master of the Gravity Ball, laughed. Not with fear, but with challenge. A rare courage—or recklessness—surging through him. He would meet this god, alone if necessary. The world had seen his triumphs; now it would witness his defiance.
Outside, the wind carried the faint echo of battle cries across the conquered Tang lands. Smoke rose from cities, rivers ran dark with the stains of war. Soldiers of Chen marched on, oblivious to the emerging threat, their loyalty absolute, their confidence built on the power of a world item.
Yet within the hall, the unease lingered. A god, long thought extinct, now stirred in the Forbidden Land. If angered… what havoc would it wreak? And what fate awaited those under Chen Guoguo's rule, whose strength, for all its enormity, might still prove inadequate before such a force?
Chen Guoguo did not answer these questions. He merely lifted a hand, gesturing to the Gravity Ball floating silently beside him, shimmering faintly with unearthly light. The weight of the object, a gravity beyond mortal, pressed on all who gazed upon it. It was both a tool and a warning—a symbol of dominance, yet also a challenge to destiny itself.
"My army will march, my lands will expand," Chen Guoguo said, voice resolute. "And if a god dares to interfere… let them come. Let them see the strength of the Chen state. Let them face me, Chen Guoguo. I will see if legends survive the world I command."
In the corner, a minister whispered softly to another, eyes wide with fear and awe, "He… he is mad… but perhaps he is the only one who could stand against a god."
The hall, vibrant a moment ago with triumph, now pulsed with tension. Outside, the capital gleamed beneath a sky streaked with the colors of celebration and war alike. Inside, the power of a world item—gravity, unstoppable, unyielding—defined the shape of a new world order, even as the whispers of gods long thought dead began to stir once more.
Chen Guoguo's laughter echoed, low and dark. And far, far away, in the shadowed reaches of the Forbidden Land of the Gods, something ancient and immovable shifted, taking notice.
The game had only just begun.