I, the Chancellor, Hold Power over the Court. Your Majesty, Please Die!

Winter of the third year of the Changsheng era.

The Changsheng Emperor, who held the power of the Son of Heaven in Great Zhou, had fallen gravely ill and would not recover.

That year,

At court, princes fought for the throne, nobles struggled for power, and great clans plotted to seize the emperor's authority.

That year,

In the martial world, Confucians, Buddhists, and Daoists vied for supremacy, while black and white, good and evil, clashed without end.

That year,

Beiyuan claimed to command a million armored soldiers, watching like a tiger and preparing to sweep south, their horses trampling the Central Plains.

That year,

The Xirong had two hundred thousand mounted archers, sharpening their weapons and readying their steeds as they repeatedly harried the frontier.

That year,

Su Wen, the Great Zhou chancellor who bore responsibility for all nineteen circuits from north to south, gazed down at Yujing City buried beneath wind and snow and made a decision that defied his ancestors' injunctions.

"I beseech Your Majesty to die."