The spiritual energy was restored, and he became a mortal immortal in two days.

Location: Lingxiao Headquarters, Historical Analysis and Strategic Deduction Center.

On the huge circular screen, the autobiography of Empress Wu Minghuang is being displayed in segments.

The video features detailed content, simulated energy fluctuations to recreate images, and a virtual battlefield sandbox built based on textual descriptions.

More than a dozen of Lingxiao's core analysts, historical researchers, and strategic advisors sat around the central conference table in a somber atmosphere.

A faint energy suppression field permeated the air, ensuring that the content of the discussion would not be leaked.

On the screen, text flows:

[Year 179 of the Swordsmanship Era, Winter. Outside Iron Wall Pass, snow falls heavily.]

The defensive line was crumbling, and the enemy's camp stretched out like a ferocious beast...

Along with the text, on the virtual sandbox, blue dots representing the Tianfeng Dynasty's garrison are sparsely distributed at a strategic location called "Iron Wall Pass".

Meanwhile, the red lights representing the allied forces of Lingyun Sword Sect, Xuanyin Sect, and Golden Saber Sect surged in from three directions like a tide.

The numbers are vastly different.

Simulated casualty figures, resource depletion percentages, and morale indices constantly jumped around the edge of the sand table.

Without exception, all lines were in the red, a truly alarming sight.

"hiss--"

A young analyst gasped, instinctively adjusting his glasses. "How...how are we going to fight this?"

"Military strength, high-end combat capabilities, resource supplies, even the battlefield environment... a complete disadvantage!"

"It's already a miracle that the Heavenly Wind Dynasty can last for two years!"

"The key is willpower."

Beside him stood a gray-haired, composed history researcher named Zhou Wenyuan, pointing to the text section on the screen about Wu Minghuang's solitary tent in the snowstorm.

"Look here, the Empress's own will is almost the only pillar supporting this crumbling dynasty."

"But how long can willpower last in the face of an absolute power disparity?"

"Moreover, she wasn't fighting just one enemy, but three sects!"

Another operations staff officer looked grim. "The Lingyun Sword Sect will lead the attack, the Xuanyin Sect excels in poison curses and assassinations, and the Golden Saber Sect has an extremely strong ability to launch frontal assaults."

"With the cooperation of the three parties, it's only a matter of time before the Tianfeng Dynasty's defenses are breached."

"Once the Iron Wall Pass falls, the enemy will advance unimpeded and head straight for the capital... The consequences will be unimaginable."

A low murmur of discussion filled the meeting room.

Even though they already knew the outcome "later".

Empress Wu Minghuang successfully suppressed the Immortal Sect and even elevated the Tianfeng Dynasty from a secular dynasty to a powerful "Immortal Dynasty".

But when later generations look back on this history and immerse themselves in that desperate situation, they still feel a suffocating pressure and a deep sense of bewilderment.

"I...I still can't understand."

The young analyst, named Li Rui, couldn't help but speak up, his voice filled with confusion and a hint of excitement, "We all know the outcome of history: the Empress won, and the Tianfeng Dynasty rose to power."

"However, given the circumstances at the time, it was a war that was destined to be lost!"

"A newly unified, still internally unstable secular dynasty versus three ancient, deeply rooted cultivation sects?"

"It's like...like a toddler who has just learned to walk charging at three fully armed giants!"

He pointed to the starkly different data on the sand table: "Look at these! The troop strength ratio is 1:5! In terms of combat power at the Golden Core stage and above, the Empress's side only has one Golden Core cultivator."

"The opposing side has at least three elders at the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm or higher, and dozens more at the Foundation Establishment stage!"

"Resources? The Heavenly Wind Dynasty's treasury is almost empty, while the Immortal Sect has blessed lands and spirit stone veins!"

"How can we fight this? Rely on the Empress to fight alone? Rely on those ordinary soldiers to fill the gaps with their own flesh and blood?"

Li Rui's words voiced the questions that many people had in mind.

Yes, the result was certainly brilliant, but the process was so unreasonable! It was almost mythical!

"Perhaps... there are variables we are unaware of?"

A female analyst, Ye Qing, pondered, "For example, that 'Saint Master' Chen Xiang?"

"His autobiography mentions that the Empress visits him every year. Will he intervene at a crucial moment?"

.........

[180th Anniversary of the Kendo Era - Early Spring]

Winter at Tiebiguan is as long and agonizing as a century.

The enemy's new offensive came earlier and was more intense than expected.

The poisonous fog of the Xuan Yin Sect corroded the city walls, the heavily armored warriors of the Golden Saber Sect surged like a tide against the damaged pass, and the sword cultivators of the Lingyun Sword Sect poured down a rain of swords in the air.

The defending soldiers went from initially being united in hatred against the enemy, to fighting to the death, to numbly wielding their swords and watching their comrades fall one by one in pools of blood.

The walls were piled high with corpses, and the blood melted the ice and snow, forming dark red streams that flowed gently.

I led the charge, my Phoenix Fire blazing across the plains, burning away the poisonous fog, slaying flying swords, and killing the enemy chieftain who charged onto the city walls.

However, human strength has its limits.

The Heavenly Phoenix Golden Core within his body was dimming, and his primordial power was constantly being depleted in years of bloody battles, causing the newly added wounds to heal more and more slowly.

The deep, bone-revealing sword wound on my left arm was left by Yun Yizi himself. The Lingyun sword intent attached to it is like a maggot clinging to my bone, constantly eroding my meridians.

"Your Majesty! The western section of the city wall has fallen! General Liu has been killed in battle!"

The deputy general, covered in blood, staggered in, bringing yet another piece of bad news.

"Your Majesty! The eastern arrow tower was smashed down by the Golden Saber Sect warriors, and all the defending soldiers have perished!"

"Your Majesty! There are spies from the Xuan Yin Sect within the city, poisoning the water supply!"

The bad news came one after another.

The defense line is like a candle flickering in the wind, and could be completely extinguished at any moment.

I stand atop the ruined gate tower, gazing at the enemy troops roaring and charging like wild beasts beyond the pass, at the soldiers inside the pass lying dead and wounded, exhausted and desperate, and at this scorched earth soaked in blood.

Five years of dedicated efforts, two years of bloody battles... In the end, has it still come to this?

Holy Master, your disciple has disappointed you.

I once thought that by gripping a sword tightly, I could carve out a path to survival.

Only now do we realize how insignificant an individual's courage and will are in the face of absolute power and the accumulation of time.

However, the backbone of the Tianfeng Dynasty cannot be broken by my hand.

That night, the wind and snow subsided slightly, and the moonlight was cold and desolate.

I left behind a handwritten edict and military tally, which I entrusted to the most loyal old general.

He was ordered to lead his remaining troops to retreat to the second line of defense once the pass was breached, to preserve his strength as much as possible, and wait for... a turning point that might not even exist.

Afterwards, I changed into civilian clothes and left Tiebi Pass quietly without alerting anyone.

The goal is that deep mountain that haunts my dreams, that simple thatched hut, that silent peach tree, and that person.

[Deep in the Mountains - Farewell]

The mountain road remains familiar, but my state of mind has changed drastically.

When I dragged my wounded and exhausted body through that bamboo forest again and saw the thatched cottage and peach tree standing quietly under the moonlight, my eyes welled up with tears.

The door to the hut was open, and a warm, orange glow shone from inside.

A figure in a blue robe sat by the stove, quietly looking at a scroll of bamboo slips.

He is a holy teacher.

He looked exactly the same as when we first met many years ago—handsome and calm, as if time had never left a mark on him, and as if the war that swept through the dynasty and caused rivers of blood had nothing to do with him.

I stopped under the peach tree and did not go forward immediately.

The heavy stench of blood and the lingering murderous aura emanating from him clashed sharply with the tranquility of the mountain forest.

He seemed to sense something, raised his head, and looked towards the door.

His gaze was calm, devoid of sorrow or joy, like a deep pool.

I stepped forward, stopped at the bottom of the steps outside the door, and slowly knelt down.

This is not a royal ceremony, but a ceremony for a disciple to bid farewell to his master.