Chapter 1
Red Dragon Martial Emperor
Prologue
Huashan (華山).
One of the Five Sacred Mountains.
At its summit, the emperors of three nations had gathered.
For decades, these rulers had waged war to determine the true sovereign of the Central Plains. Yet today, they came together in one place—for the sake of a single man.
Whiiish!
A cold wind howled fiercely, and the faces of the three emperors waiting for the man were dark—so dark one could almost feel their suppressed rage.
“Why is this man so late?”
Emperor Zhao Bei of the Zhao Kingdom raised his voice toward Emperor Li Chi of the Yan Kingdom.
Li Chi replied calmly.
“The road must be rough. Let us wait just a little longer.”
Beside Li Chi sat Emperor Liang Guangxiao of the Jin Kingdom, who closed his eyes with a sigh.
“How will we endure this humiliation…? Haa…”
Whiiish!
The wind grew stronger.
How much time passed?
“He has arrived.”
A general stationed some distance away from the pavilion spoke quietly.
All three emperors turned their gaze at once.
A man appeared on the path leading to the summit—none other than Wu Emperor Li Huan (李煥), the absolute master of the martial world. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath at his appearance.
The imperial guards of the three kingdoms instinctively rested their hands on their sword hilts. Yet none dared draw their blades. Instead, they bowed their heads under the overwhelming force of his presence.
Li Huan walked slowly toward the pavilion where the emperors waited. Though he approached rulers of nations, no one dared demand that he disarm.
Following him were three figures, each carrying either a sword, a great blade, or a spear. They stopped before the imperial guards—these were the Three Kings, Li Huan’s shadows.
The guards, faced with them, could hardly breathe.
A smirk.
“Relax.”
The Sword King’s casual words were somehow more terrifying than a drawn blade.
Li Huan stepped onto the pavilion and spoke evenly.
“The road was rough. I’m a bit late.”
Arrogant.
Who else in the world could speak like this before emperors?
More shocking was the emperors’ response. They simply gestured for him to sit, showing no displeasure—as if this were natural. Even Zhao Bei, who moments earlier had been angry, did the same.
Li Huan looked at each of them slowly.
“Have you decided?”
Unexpectedly, Zhao Bei spoke first.
“Our Zhao Kingdom has decided to accept your request.”
He then took out an imperial jade seal from his robes.
Liang Guangxiao frowned. Hadn’t Zhao Bei been furious just moments ago?
Li Huan’s gaze turned to him.
“Our Jin Kingdom will also accept your request.”
Liang Guangxiao produced his jade seal as well.
The last was Li Chi. Unlike the others, he met Li Huan’s eyes directly.
“And how will you prove yourself to us?”
“Do I look like I came here to prove myself?”
“…!”
“I came only to confirm whether the three of you would accept my request. If you do, peace will be guaranteed. If not…”
He trailed off. There was no need to finish the sentence.
At his audacity, all three emperors’ faces twitched. But none spoke.
Li Huan stared at Li Chi, who did not avert his eyes—but only for a moment.
Tap!
Li Chi placed his jade seal on the table.
“…We will accept your request.”
Soon, the three emperors stamped their seals onto four documents. Each kept one copy.
Li Huan picked up his own. The text was brief, but its content was astounding:
From this day forth, the three nations would recognize the martial world as beyond their jurisdiction and would not interfere in its affairs. Likewise, the martial world would not meddle in the politics of the three kingdoms.
A pact of non-aggression.
For royal courts that had long treated martial sects as tools of war, this was an unprecedented event.
Li Huan flicked the paper in his hand, sending it through the fierce wind to one of the Three Kings with perfect precision.
“On behalf of the martial world, I thank you for your decision. May this oath be passed down through generations. Then—I shall take my leave.”
Li Huan departed.
The three emperors, left behind, trembled with humiliation.
The Banquet of Huashan, later called so by the world, was remembered as the martial world’s greatest triumph—and the three nations’ deepest shame.
Chapter 1 — A New Life
Southern Frontlines of the Yan Kingdom.
Far from the endless rows of military tents stood a lone pavilion.
In its courtyard, a towering man with a square face and a thick beard sat with his arms crossed. Beside him, a young warrior in his twenties kept glancing nervously at the closed door of the pavilion.
“The physician said he’s regained consciousness… so why is he still just lying there?” the young man asked carefully.
“He woke after ten days. It will take time before he can move,” the bearded man replied.
“But even so, he should have at least called for you… He won’t even answer when I ask after his health—”
“Enough.”
The bearded man closed his eyes.
At that moment, two figures entered the courtyard—young officers in icy blue robes, exuding sharp, blade-like auras, clad in blood-red armor.
The young warrior bowed. “Welcome, sirs.”
The bearded man opened his eyes, studied the officers, and slowly rose to his feet.
One of them smirked.
“He’s awake?”
“Yes. He regained consciousness yesterday.”
“Impressive. To survive in that condition… Your life is tougher than iron sinew.”
The bearded man’s eyebrow twitched.
“Watch your words.”
“Ah, my apologies. Habit, you know. But still—he is a prince. Was I too harsh? Sorry.”
Despite the words, the smirk only deepened.
The other officer spoke.
“May we see him?”
“Not now.”
“Have you seen him yourself?”
“I have not.”
The officer frowned slightly at the door, then turned away.
“Let’s go.”
“Shouldn’t we at least greet him?”
“If even his adjutant hasn’t seen him, we’ll wait.”
The bearded man watched them leave through the gate, his gaze calm—but in the depths of his eyes, a fierce heat burned.
‘Bastards… knowing full well the Prince could hear every word…’
Then—
Creak.
The door opened.
A man peeked out, his pale face strikingly handsome—enough to melt the heart of any woman.
“May I have a word?”
