Genichi looked down at him, his eyes completely devoid of emotion.
"Fine."
He flicked a finger.
A ray of light instantly struck the old minister.
The power of the Myriad Desires Heavenly Demon Scripture surged into his body.
Those desires became like countless venomous snakes, burrowing into his meridians, devouring his reason, and corroding his soul.
His body began to disintegrate from the inside out.
It was not a sudden death.
Instead, he was slowly carved apart, piece by piece, as though being subjected to a thousand cuts.
Muscle peeled away from bone.
Skin separated from muscle.
Blood vessels were exposed beneath the torn flesh.
Blood seeped from countless tiny wounds like crimson droplets of dew, gathering one by one until they formed streams.
His screams echoed through the great hall, shrill, piercing, and utterly despairing.
He watched pieces of his own flesh fall from his body.
He watched his bones become exposed one after another.
He watched his organs continue beating within his opened chest.
The terror, the agony, the torment of being unable to die even when he desperately wanted to made everyone present recoil in horror.
In less than a moment, the veteran minister who had served three Emperors had been reduced to a skeleton.
The stark white bones somehow remained standing upright upon the golden floor.
The skeleton swayed slightly.
Then it collapsed with a crash, scattering bones across the floor.
Blood spread around them like a blooming red flower.
Someone vomited.
Someone else fainted.
One official went mad with terror and tried to flee, only for a black shadow outside the doors to silently drag him back inside.
No one dared speak again.
No one dared step forward.
No one dared question a single word Genichi said.
They finally understood.
This young man was not threatening them.
He was not trying to frighten them.
He was not joking.
He meant every word.
If he said he would kill someone after counting ten numbers, then someone would die.
If he said the Empress had to come out, then the Empress would come out.
There was no room for negotiation.
No opportunity to resist.
No possibility of getting lucky.
The Emperor collapsed back against the Dragon Throne, his face deathly pale and his lips tinged purple. His eyes were filled with fear and despair.
Only now did he realize that the imperial authority he had always taken such pride in was nothing more than a joke before this young man.
The Imperial Guards, the ministers, the city walls, the palace, everything he had once believed could protect him was as fragile as paper.
Genichi lowered his hand and swept his gaze across the terrified civil and military officials.
There was no pity in his eyes.
"Go get her."
His voice was quiet, but it was an order that allowed no refusal.
A eunuch scrambled out of the hall on all fours, nearly tripping over himself as he ran. His shrill voice drifted through the night wind, filled with tears and terror as he called for the Empress.
About the time it took for a stick of incense to burn later, Ruyan arrived.
She wore the ceremonial robes of an Empress, with a phoenix crown resting upon her head.
Her face was like flawless white jade, her brows like distant mountains, and her eyes like autumn waters.
Her steps were graceful and composed, like a butterfly dancing through the air or a peony blooming in the wind.
A faint smile rested on her lips.
Her eyes were filled with confidence and pride, as though nothing in this world could disturb her, as though no one in existence could ever make her lower her head.
She entered the hall.
She saw the white bones scattered across the floor.
She saw the blood-soaked figure crawling on the ground, his limbs twisted and ruined.
Her footsteps paused for the briefest instant.
Then she continued forward as though she had seen nothing at all.
She stopped before the Dragon Throne and gave a slight bow.
Her voice was soft and sweet.
"Your Majesty, this consort has arrived."
Then she heard a voice.
Hoarse.
Weak.
Yet filled with an almost insane excitement and longing.
"Ruyan... Ruyan... it's me... it's me..."
The General lay on the floor, squirming toward her like a maggot.
He had no usable hands or feet.
All he could do was drag his body across the ground.
His face scraped against the floor until the skin tore open, blood mixing with dust and smearing across his features.
His eyes remained fixed on Ruyan.
They were filled with obsession and madness, like a drowning man clutching at the final piece of driftwood within reach.
"Ruyan... tell me... someone framed me, didn't they? Someone was plotting against me, right? You were forced into this, weren't you? You had your reasons, didn't you?"
His voice was hoarse and broken, filled with tears, pleading, and a kind of pathetic desperation that made the scalp crawl.
He refused to believe Ruyan had tried to kill him.
He refused to believe that letter had been a trap.
He refused to believe that the woman for whom he had sacrificed everything could have betrayed him.
He would rather believe it had all been a misunderstanding.
He would rather believe Ruyan had been forced.
He would rather believe everyone else in the world was to blame.
As long as Ruyan said one word, "yes," he would believe her without hesitation.
He would die satisfied and happy.
He would believe that his entire life had been worth it.
Ruyan lowered her gaze and looked at him.
Those eyes that had once haunted his every waking thought held no heartache.
No guilt.
No sadness.
There was only faint, condescending disgust, the same kind someone might show while looking at a dead rat.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
She moved half a step backward, as though avoiding something filthy.
Her lips parted.
Her voice remained soft, yet the indifference within it was enough to chill the blood.
"Who are you?"
"I don't know you."
The General's entire body froze.
His eyes widened, Ruyan's cold and indifferent face reflected in his pupils.
His mouth opened and closed, then opened again, like a fish thrown onto dry land desperately trying to breathe but unable to draw in a single breath.
His body began trembling violently.
Not from fear.
Not from anger.
But from heartbreak.
The convictions he had believed indestructible collapsed completely in that instant.
The love he had believed worthy of protecting with his own life vanished into nothing.
The obsession he had believed would allow him to die without regrets became the greatest joke of all.
Genichi stood to the side and watched the scene, the corner of his mouth twitching.
He couldn't listen to any more of this.
This ridiculous melodrama.
This absurd conversation.
This utterly illogical emotional mess.
Every single detail was testing the limits of his patience.
He didn't want to look at Ruyan's hypocritical face anymore.
He didn't want to hear the wailing of the General's shattered heart.
He didn't want to remain in this absurd world for another second.
Genichi raised his hand.
The power of the Myriad Desires Heavenly Demon Scripture gathered within his palm.
Chaotic-colored light poured outward, enveloping the entire Golden Throne Hall.
The civil and military officials.
The Emperor.
Ruyan.
The General lying on the floor.
Every last one of them.
Their flesh began falling from their bodies piece by piece as agonized screams filled the Golden Throne Hall.
When the light finally faded, the hall was empty.
Only one person remained.
Genichi stood there, staring at the vacant Dragon Throne and the flesh, blood, and white bones scattered across the floor.
He remained silent for a moment.
Then the glittering golden Human Sovereign Banner appeared in his hand.
The banner fluttered gently in the night wind, golden patterns across its surface gleaming strangely beneath the moonlight.
"Just dying would be letting you off far too easily. Every last one of you can enter the Human Sovereign Banner and suffer instead."
Several new souls appeared within the banner.
Corrupt.
Ugly.
Souls belonging to this absurd world.
The debt of this world had finally been settled.
Next...
The female-oriented cultivation world.
(End of Chapter)
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