Pan Lian approached the city now known as Slum City, a chaotic and lawless settlement that had sprouted from the ruins of war and desperation. Unlike the last time she had set foot in this region, she found something unexpected—a massive wooden gate blocking the entrance. Guarding it was a man clad in makeshift armor, his stance rigid and expression unreadable. His eyes held a flicker of caution as she stepped forward.
"How much to enter?" she asked, her voice steady yet laced with curiosity.
The guard, without hesitation, responded, "Ten gold coins or five cultivation pills."
Without argument, Pan Lian reached into her pouch and handed him ten gold coins. The guard inspected them before stepping aside, allowing her to pass through the creaking gate into the heart of Slum City.
What she saw inside was a city in its infancy—barely organized, yet teeming with life. The streets were lined with market stalls offering food, herbs, and various supplies, yet among them, a darker trade flourished. Groups of shackled individuals stood on wooden platforms, their faces hollow and resigned, as merchants shouted offers and deals for their unwilling wares.
Pan Lian's expression darkened. She approached one of the slavers, a thickset man with a scar running down his cheek. "Where did these people come from?" she asked, her tone cool and commanding.
The slaver smirked, clearly taking her for just another curious buyer. "Raiders," he said, gesturing to the captives. "These are the ones who dared to attack the empire's borders. No one has bought them yet—our city's reputation is still growing. It takes time to gain proper buyers."
Pan Lian let out a slow breath, suppressing her rising anger. "Take me to the founder of this city."
The slaver looked momentarily puzzled before scoffing. "And who are you to make such a demand?"
Without a word, Pan Lian raised her hand, revealing the royal ring of her lineage. The slaver’s expression instantly shifted from arrogance to fear. He quickly summoned a native, a wiry man who bowed deeply before her.
"Please, this way," the man stammered, his hands trembling as he gestured for her to follow.
The journey to the palace took time—20,000 feet through winding streets of makeshift homes, trading stalls, and the occasional skirmish between rival groups. As they reached the grand yet hastily constructed palace, Pan Lian's thoughts churned. Slum City had potential, but under Lu Sang’s leadership, it needed transformation—order, discipline, and most importantly, the eradication of the barbaric trade she had just witnessed.
Stepping into the palace, she was led to a waiting room, where she took a seat. The scent of incense lingered in the air, mixing with the dust of a place still being built. Her patience remained steady, but one thing was certain: when she left this city, it would no longer be Slum City.
Pan Lian sat patiently in the waiting room, her eyes scanning the dimly lit chamber as the minutes dragged on. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of aged parchment. She tapped her fingers lightly on the polished wooden table, her mind already calculating her next move.
An hour later, the heavy doors creaked open, and General Lu Sang strode in, his presence commanding yet burdened with unspoken thoughts. He nodded at her before taking his seat across from her. Without preamble, he delved into the topic at hand.
"Pan Lian, I trust you are aware of my latest endeavor. I plan to transform the slum city into an underground hub for intelligence gathering and additional revenue streams."
Pan Lian met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "That depends," she said evenly. "If this aligns with my vision, I will support it. But there are conditions."
Lu Sang leaned forward, intrigued. "What conditions?"
She folded her hands together. "Firstly, those who are affected must be criminals or enemies of the Fanism Empire. I will not tolerate the innocent being drawn into this scheme."
A slow smirk formed on Lu Sang's lips. "Of course. That was my intent."
For the next hour, their discussion flowed, shifting from logistical matters to the philosophical implications of such an underground operation. However, as the conversation continued, Lu Sang revealed a darker thought that had been plaguing his mind.
"There is another matter," he admitted. "The Boiling Abyss... I have considered using a female raider and her child as sacrifices to summon an Abyss demon, unleashing it upon our enemies. The devastation would be catastrophic."
Pan Lian's expression hardened. "Lu Sang, I will not shield you from the consequences. The Holy Sword Sect, under An Yang, will not stand idly by. And the nations that suffer from the demon's rampage will seek vengeance. You may be inviting a war you cannot win."
Her warning hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Lu Sang said nothing for a long moment, absorbing her words, weighing the risk against his ambition.
Having made her stance clear, Pan Lian rose from her seat. "I will be heading to the capital. There is much to prepare."
With that, she departed, her mind already shifting toward her next task. Upon arriving in the capital, she wasted no time drafting letters. The Holy Sword Sect would need to be informed, as well as any potential allies or targets. Her actions quickly set off ripples across the continent.
The Inlo Kingdom, the Holy Sword Kingdom, and the Chang Republic—the three dominant nations—took note of the brewing tensions. The Chang Republic remained mostly isolated due to the towering mountain range that separated it, but the bandits who managed to cross the rugged terrain and settle near the Fanism Empire had only escalated their raids, desperate for food and resources.
With each letter sent, the foundations of future conflicts were laid. The world teetered on the edge of change, and Pan Lian was determined to be the one holding the strings.
The responses to Pan Lian’s letters arrived swiftly, each sealed with the sigil of its respective nation. As she unfurled the first parchment, the official reply from the Holy Sword Sect, she noted the precise, almost ceremonial handwriting of Grandmaster An Yang.
Holy Sword Sect Response:
Pan Lian,
Your concerns regarding General Lu Sang’s potential summoning of an Abyss demon have been noted. Should such a blasphemous act be committed, rest assured the Holy Sword Sect will act in accordance with our sacred duty. The invocation of abyssal forces is an abomination, and we will not permit its taint upon this land.
Furthermore, any nation complicit in such an atrocity will face righteous judgment. The sect will begin assembling its forces for potential deployment. Consider this a warning—intervene before it is too late.
— Grandmaster An Yang, Holy Sword Sect
Pan Lian exhaled sharply. An Yang’s words were not idle threats; the sect’s warriors were among the most formidable on the continent. If Lu Sang moved forward with his plan, retribution would be swift.
She moved to the next letter, its wax seal bearing the crest of the Inlo Kingdom.
Inlo Kingdom Response:
To Lady Pan Lian,
The Inlo Kingdom does not meddle in the affairs of sorcery and summoning, nor do we seek unnecessary conflict. However, should the Fanism Empire allow an Abyss demon to ravage the land unchecked, we will be forced to defend our borders. If this act endangers our people, we will not hesitate to retaliate.
Our eyes remain on your empire, and we expect you to act with wisdom.
— Queen Mei Lan of the Inlo Kingdom
The next letter bore the sigil of the Holy Sword Kingdom, a nation closely aligned with the sect. The handwriting was firm and unyielding.
Holy Sword Kingdom Response:
Pan Lian,
The very notion of summoning a demon is an affront to all that is holy. Should the Fanism Empire fail to prevent this, we will consider it an act of war. If this ritual is carried out, we will march upon the perpetrator and those who allowed it. The might of the Holy Sword Kingdom is prepared to strike.
Your vigilance in this matter will determine the path forward.
— King Jien of the Holy Sword Kingdom
The final letter was from the Chang Republic, separated from the rest of the continent by the towering mountain range. Unlike the other responses, this one was brief, almost casual.
Chang Republic Response:
Pan Lian,
The mountains have long shielded us from the troubles of the continent, and we have little interest in the petty rivalries of foreign nations. However, should this demon or its summoner send chaos beyond the Fanism Empire’s borders, we will not hesitate to act. Keep your war within your walls.
— Chancellor Yao of the Chang Republic
Pan Lian folded the letters, contemplating the situation. Every major power had made their stance clear—if Lu Sang carried out his plan, war was inevitable. The weight of the decision lay upon her shoulders. Would she intervene and prevent disaster, or allow events to unfold and prepare for the consequences?
Either way, the continent braced itself for what was to come.
