The golden light of the throne room filtered through the high windows of Kanyou Palace, bathing the great hall in solemn brilliance.
The war had ended.
The Coalition Army had failed to crush Qin.
But the price of survival lingered in every bowed head and every scarred veteran standing before the throne.
King Ei Sei, seated at the center, wore royal robes befitting the moment—but his face held no pride, only gravity. Beside him stood Shouheikun, the architect of Qin's military survival, and further behind, Ryo Fui, his expression unreadable as ever.
This day was not for politics.
It was for those who had held the line when the world sought their end.
"Let the world know," Sei began, his voice ringing clear, "that Qin did not survive this invasion through the strength of generals alone… but by the will of its people."
The first names called were those whose legends already echoed across the battlefield.
"General Ousen—who held the Coalition's right and crushed their advance with iron discipline. You are granted expanded authority and new landholdings in the west."
Ousen bowed with his usual cold composure, silent as ever.
"General Tou—who inherited the will of Ouki and struck down the enemy general. You are hereby recognized as one of Qin's most vital blades."
Tou stepped forward and offered a respectful bow.
"General Moubu—who broke the Coalition center with unmatched strength. You are honored with wealth and command befitting your prowess."
Moubu grinned and pounded a fist into his chest, offering a fierce nod. "Hmph. Moubu will only grow stronger."
"And now," King Sei said, his voice softening, "to the unsung warriors of Sai—to the farmers, blacksmiths, mothers, and sons… who stood against the darkness when no army remained…"
A stunned hush fell over the court as Sei rose from his throne.
"Your courage gave Qin the time it needed. Without your sacrifice, this kingdom would be dust."
Many nobles looked uncomfortable. But Sei's words stood unchallenged.
"You are the living proof that this kingdom is not built only by generals—but by its people."
"Shin of the Hi Shin Unit," Shouheikun spoke next, "For leading troops in defense of Sai, for rallying the civilians and slashing the enemy general Houken, you are hereby promoted to 3,000-man commander."
Shin stepped forward, his expression firm. He bowed deeply—not just to the king, but to the memory of those who had fallen.
"Ren of the Gu Ren Tai," Sei continued, "For defending the eastern flank of Sai, holding the line alongside civilians, and protecting the will of the people—you are also promoted to 3,000-man commander."
Ren moved forward quietly, nodding once before offering a calm salute. The court noticed him—this rising commander who had bled not for glory, but for duty.
The ceremony ended not with applause, but with stillness. A silence heavy with meaning.
King Sei looked over the room—at generals, soldiers, and nobles alike.
"We survived because we fought together. And one day… we will unite this land the same way."
The war had ended.
But the true campaign—the one for the soul of all China—had only just begun.